"I deserve neither such praise, nor such censure."

 As a passionate writer, it can be hard to realize that there are other pursuits I enjoy just as well...

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure. I am not a great reader, and I enjoy many things."

I had not realized that I was neglecting my love for reading until I picked up Jan Karon's Home to Holly Springs and revelled in another author's writing like a man parched for water in a desert. My writing was suffering slightly from what I cannot explain as anything but over-working. Trying to be a fountain of inspiration when I'm dry as a bone. Just as in life one cannot pour love into another person with an empty cup, neither can an author pour life into her writing if she is not filling her mind with words other than her own.

Our minds are not so original we can thrive entirely on its own wanderings. We must feed it and cultivate it and then make it work. So this Christmas break I decided that I would not push myself to write anything unless it "came" to me. I will not work on the Gypsy Song or think about Puddleby Lane or anything else. I will instead read and read and read. It's a luxury I have not been allowing myself, but oh the joys of it! I have already been privileged to bury my nose in Louisa May Alcott's Eight Cousins, the aforementioned Home to Holly Springs, Elisabeth Elliot's A Chance to Die, and I plan to simply live in them for a little while, filling my mind with things other than my usual trails of thought.

It seems silly to say that I've forgotten my love for reading--I never quite did that, but I did forget how beneficial, how vital it is as an author to read nearly as much as you write. Otherwise your reader will detect a hint of staleness in your words that is the death-blow to any book. We want our writing to be alive, kicking, breathing, pulsing, nearly made of flesh and blood--not the skeleton of a good story hanging up in chains. :D

You have no idea how marvelous it felt to read Eight Cousins again. Louisa May Alcott and I, as far as writing goes, are soul-mates. I love her books--they hold a place in my heart that will never be effaced--and to once again wander the pages of those dear tales was as relaxing to me as a vacation, almost.

So here's to a week of reading other people's writing, and here's to renewed inspiration when I return! :)

15-day Challenge: Day Four: Inspiration

15-Day Challenge Day Four:
{A novel or author that has inspired something in your writing style}

I am one so apt to catch grains of inspiration as they fall from each book I open that this is rather an interesting question for me. But of course I now realize the happy truth that the question is a writer or book, not the writer or book.

"Let us proceed at once to business. What is the use of delay when we agreed to take that up the first thing?" ~The Society for the Suppression of Gossip (hilarious Victorian play, that)

ANY-whoo, to answer the question, I am afraid I must again choose two authors, and one of those authors will be making his second appearance in this 15-day challenge:

1. Louisa May Alcott- I have always felt a deep connection with this author's novels. You see, being the eldest sister in a chunk of four girls right in the middle of our big family, I felt much like Meg with Jo, Beth, and Amy to look after. Even our personalities match up to the March girls! So it was only natural that my life would be rather Little Women-ish, and it will not surprise you to hear that we started our own literary society when my fellow members were 9, 6, and 4 respectively. *Harumph* (Needless to say, talent was limited. :P)
Louisa May Alcott novels are sweet and innocent, and I feel each time I put one down that I walk away a better girl for it. Morals and wisdom are entwined so effortlessly in the windings of the story that one doesn't know one has learned anything, and yet the day is colored by noble ideals afterward.
I did not realize her writing had truly influenced mine until I'd had...oh...probably near a dozen people tell me that my books remind them so much of Louisa May Alcott's. Someone said that The Seasonings had the flavor of Eight Cousins about it. :)

2. Charles Dickens. I know, I know you must be sick to death of hearing about him. You must think I never read anything else. But I had to bring him in, because I have come to realize that he has influenced me in the forming of my characters. I am continually delighted with the ream of people I find in the pages of his novels. They are so queer and quaint and unusual. He can concoct the most interesting mash of qualities into a larger-than-life personality that one remembers forever. In Puddleby Lane, particularly, one character is fashioned on purpose in the Dickensian style. :)

It did not take as long as Cora expected to get to town. Perhaps it was the cheerful conversation of Ann Company, or the novelty of walking like a caravan of gypsies down a sandy road, that made the two miles seem like a hundred yards, but Cora did not feel at all fatigued when they finally reached the train station.

Piper’s Corner was not so bleak after all. Cora tilted her head at the station. Still windswept, and the row of wax myrtles weren’t the most robust bushes she’d ever encountered, but there was a certain charm even in the loneliness.

“Hey, Pa!” Ann Company’s shout startled Cora, and she turned to find Tucker and Dot sitting on the edge of the platform.

“Don’t sit so near the edge, Tuck. What if a train came along?”

“Shoot, Miz Cora! There’s only the nine-fifteen, the one-thirty, and the five-forty-five that comes through here this time a’year. Tucker could sit there another three hours an’ he’d be no worse’n me fer it.”

“Can I, Cora?” Tucker hammered the side of the platform with the heels of his shoes.

“Certainly not.”

A heavy hand descended on Cora’s shoulder. “Well what’ve we got here? A pack of young’uns?”

Cora turned to find Flounder’s red face crinkled up in what she supposed to be a grin. “Good morning, Flounder.”

“Good mornin’ to you.” He withdrew his hand and stuck his thumbs through his suspenders. The sleeves of his shirt were still rolled up. And was it the same shirt? If not, surely the ink-stains on the cuffs had been duplicated with a careful eye to authenticity.

Ann Company adjusted Flounder’s collar and brushed crumbs from the front of his shirt. “I’m fixin’ t’give these kids a tour a’Piper’s Corner.”

Flounder patted Ann Company’s curly hair as if she was a favorite puppy of his and cast his wall-eye at Cora, Tucker, and Dot. “A splendid idear. I splendid idear. Didn’t I say this mornin’, Ann Company, it’d be a splendid idear?”

“I b’lieve you did, Pa. That’s what put it in m’head in th’ first place.”

Flounder shook his head like a ponderous bull-dog. “Splendid idears sometimes do come to me, you know. Though some might doubt it.”

“Course idears come t’you.” Ann Company, who had been putting her father in shape with many a tender push, pull, and shove the whole time, stepped back and grabbed Tucker’s hand. “I guess we’ll be goin’ now, Pa.”

“Yes, yes. And don’t forget to show your friends Adolphus.”

“I won’t, Pa.” Ann Company nodded to Cora and led the way across the tracks, leaving Eulalie near the railroad office.

See? :) Flounder is turning out to be a rather fussy but good-hearted man. He whines. Rather a Mr. Dorrit, if you will, minus the debtor's prison. I admit Dickens has influenced this character heavily, but that's okay. Since I did it on purpose, it doesn't count as copying. ;)

My Friends of Antiquity

The sweet novels of Louisa May Alcott, the whirling gaiety of characters peopling the pages of Dickens' books, the perfect wording and heart-touching allegories of C.S. Lewis' Narnia series, the gentle humor of James Herriot's veterinary adventures, the beautiful poetry and careful mythology of Tolkein's middle earth, and the charm of Prince Edward Island and a certain red-haired lass who live there concocted by Lucy Maud Montgomery...the unbroken secrecy of that Secret Garden and the troubles of the Little Princess so unforgettably told, the wit and social juxtapositions of Jane Austen's novels, the passionate romance of Jane Eyre....these are the books I have loved and always will love.

My earliest brushes with book-love were when I was a little bit of a girl and Mama would read aloud to us. She always chose the best books, and I grew to feel as if Hans Brinker and his silver skates, or Heidi and her mountain chalet were as real to me as anybody and anyplace I knew. Mama took the greatest of care not to let us read or read to us "twoddly" books. Books that were, perhaps, popular but had no more "meat" to them than a canary. All bright feathers and no use except to provide a little amusement.

My young mind, raised on the classic tales of childhood that never grow old, soon acquired its own voracious appetite for reading. Naturally I looked to the sort of books that had started my love of literature, and before I knew it I had read Little Women a dozen times, worn down the edges of Anne of Green Gables, and could quote pieces of them by heart.

A few years later, spurred onward by mention of these works in the very books I love, I peeped my nose into The Pickwick Papers, never to lose my delight in Dickens. :) My literary tastes have been carefully cultured toward the classics: the best of the best. And I find now that I can't stomach anything less than wonderful books. It is a taste I do not wish to change, and one that I'm blessed I possess. Why would one spend time reading something second-rate when there are thick volumes of tried-and-true novels pining away in dark corners of the library for lack of sufficient modern popularity? It is my mission to hunt up these books and divulge myself of their secrets, then spread round the word and try to renew their popularity amongst my fellow literary friends. :)

There is only one problem though with my loving classic literature so much. Actually, two reasons.

1.) I know good writing when I see it, and I sometimes can't write the way I wish to.

2.) My writing has a decidedly old-fashioned flair which is not so much in vogue at present.

To address issue number one, I can but continue to practice my writing and hope that someday I might write something that may endure through the most critical eye that falls upon it.

Now issue number two. It is something I cannot change, and do not really wish to change. The things and people one loves always color one's own writing. And so among my characters and descriptions you will find distinct impressions of the people and books that have inspired me. I do not mean unoriginality. No indeed. I abhor copying, and even squirm at fan-fiction, feeling that C.S. Lewis and C.S. Lewis alone should write about Narnia. It was *his* world, and ought not to be tampered with.

But I do admit that I gain inspiration and ideas from my reading. My writing is old-fashioned, and there is nothing wrong with that. Indeed, it made me feel warm and happy when a certain sweet young lady sent me my first real "fan-mail" and said my writing reminded her of Louisa May Alcott.

These authors are the ones I grew up on, the ones I love best, the ones I would give my right hand to be like. So I do not apologize over my style. I merely wonder if it will ever find a publisher, or if it is destined to follow after Anne Shirley's Camelot dreams:

"Romance may have been appreciated in Camelot, but it certainly is not in Avonlea." ;)

And so I wondered, dear readers, if you could recommend any truly great modern books. I love Jan Karon's Mitford series. She has a certain warmth that I can identify readily with. I don't particularly want to read any of those Christian romance novels, as that is not what I write and so I have no need to read them. I am looking for books that possess the beautiful qualities of my hundred-year-old favorites. Noble ideals, clear ideas of good and evil, wit, humor, tenderness, and fantastic story-telling and description.

If you have any recommendations I would love to hear of them! You can leave them in a comment or email me, whichever you would rather.

Perhaps I have hit upon the point though. Perhaps my favorite books will always be resigned to the ranks of respectable antiquity, and my writing will follow after them without gaining much of a following. Who really cares? I will be satisfied and I trust that a kindred spirit or two will read my scribbling, detect the shadow of a mutual friend or two inside the pages, and will think of them fondly as they read.

~Rachel

The Opening Line: No Once-Upon-A-Times please :)

Elizabeth Gaskell 

I wish I was clever enough to write such captivating openings as I read in famous books! :)

Take the opening paragraph in Wives and Daughters: 

"To begin with the old rigmarole of childhood. In a country there was a shire, and in that shire there was a town, and in that town there was a house, and in that house there was a room, and in that room there was a bed, and in that bed there lay a little girl;"

Isn't that marvelous? It takes a simple opening, and by throwing in a bit of humor, lifts it to a higher plane of literature. I often find that writing opening lines is one of the hardest things of the book. As many authors will tell you, you may a gorgeous, brilliant line on page two, but if the reader isn't captivated from the time they open the book, they may never get to the second page. 

Readers are a most picky race of people. There is a saying "never judge a book by its cover", but even in my own experience I have found that if nothing catches my eye from flipping through the first few pages, I'm much less likely to read the book. 

But how to connect the reader with the principle character on the first page? You could take some notes from Charles Dicken's Great Expectations:

"My father's family name being Pirrip, and my christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. so, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip. 

      I gave Pirrip as my father's family name on the authority of his tombstone and my sister--Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith."

Already in that paragraph you have discovered a quaintness of character in little Pip, a rough concept of his age, the fact that his father is dead, and that his sister is married to a blacksmith. Truly remarkable a feat in only three sentences! :) 

There is, of course, always the style of barging into the story with dialog, like Louisa May Alcott does in her Little Women:

" 'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

'It's so dreadful to be poor," sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. 

'I don't think it's fair for some girls to have lots of pretty things and others girls nothing at all,' added little Amy with an injured sniff. 

'We've got father and mother, and each other, anyhow,' said Beth, contentedly, from her corner."

Again, with only a short paragraph, you are sympathetic towards the girls in this story, know a little about their family, and their personalities. 

Take stock of your own opening lines sometime, and see if you can't harness the words to work harder for you. If you play around with them long enough, you could very well end up with a glittering opening that will captivate the reader. :) ~Rachel

My Illusions of Allusions :)

Just like detectives love tracing clues in a crowded city to find a criminal, I love finding literary allusions in books! :) Over the years I have become sufficiently acquainted with Victorian literature to be able to detect and trace some of the many allusions the authors made to famous poetry, and other books.
So it thrilled me when my sister, Leah, showed me a sentence in "An Old-Fashioned Girl"by Louisa May Alcott that went something like this: "...and Polly sucked her orange in public with a composure that would have scandalized the good ladies of Cranford."
Now, unless you were familiar with the story of Cranford, the allusion would not be interesting at all. But to me, a literature-lover, it was super exciting! I feel at those times, that I have stepped into the author's word, on her footing! :)
During a unit-study I did with my sister, Sarah, on the Victorian era, we walked through "Anne of Green Gables" and were able to thoroughly trace all the allusions the author made in the book. From that study, I've come to be familiar with, and love so much Victorian-era literature from Sir Walter Scott to John Greenleaf Whittier, Charles Dickens, and many more!
Maybe it's an old-fashioned and outdated idea, but in my writing, I love to tuck allusions in the story! :) It will fly right over most people's heads, but I'd love to think that at some point, some girl like myself would take notice, and find amusement in tracing it all out. Not that I put so much thought into hiding little clues in the writing! :) Some quotations are easy to use, like Shakespeare's, while others might take a bit more thought. But try tucking something like that in your writing- it adds additional charm! :) ~Rachel