squeetus

I do believe in fairies and first drafts

Thanks for all your comments last post. I found them all very interesting and several points I think deserve further discussion another day.

But first I must crow.

Callooh Callay! I stand atop the dresser with my fists on my hips like Peter Pan and declare, "Oh, the cleverness of me!" I finished a first draft.

By the time I finish and publish a book, it's no longer mine. I don't really feel that I wrote princess academy or book of a thousand days. It seems like too much for one person to do. Besides, now those stories don't belong to me anymore. They've split and become hundreds of thousands of individual stories, each belonging to their individual reader-creators.

But the first draft is always ALL mine. In all it's glory, it is me, me, me! I did that, I claim that, I own that. I thunk it all up with my very own brain. I'm the only person in the world who knows that story, who read that story, who controls that story. Midnight in Austenland is all mine. Mwahahaha!

I already know what will happen tomorrow. A creeping unease will crawl over me, tickle me at night, nag at me during the day: "But what if it's all crap? And what if I can't fix it? What if it remains crap forever and ever and ever?"

Be quiet, evil thoughts, I say! No matter today! Today I am the conquering hero, I am winged victory. I am youth and joy, and I crow to the sky, "Oh, clever, clever me! I wrote a first draft all by myself!"

New in paperback!

Ambles in Austenland

[Edit: I'll be in Tennessee and Mississippi the next few days. If you're in the area, check my events page.]

One really cool bit of feedback I've had on austenland, and one I didn't anticipate, are the women who email and tell me how their relationship improved with their husband after reading the book. I love that. One woman said, "I read a lot of self-help, and I find myself looking at my husband and analyzing him for what's wrong. And then I read austenland and I was like, "C'mere, honey..." Indulging in the occasional good romance is good for women, I think. It doesn't pull us away from our significant others--it spruces us up, makes us feel all gooey and affectionate, and reminds us how much we love them. Really, I should be getting thank you cards from the husbands. Hop to it, gentlemen.

From single women, I've heard that reading austenland gave them new hope in a dating scene, helped them to feel pretty and desirable again. Also, I've had so many readers tell me that they didn't read books. Then because they loved the movie of Pride & Prejudice, they decided to read this book. And have read several other books since. I love that austenland has become a gateway book! A book that non-readers read and discover that they might like reading after all. So cool.

And on the other hand, I've come under criticism from some for writing a "vulgar" and "trashy" book. This absolutely astounds me. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for every reader having that individual reading experience, for their experience to be much different than mine. I'm just so surprised by it! If it were a movie, I feel pretty confident it'd be rated PG. When I was writing austenland, I thought, "People like me who enjoy romance but don't like to read the smutty stuff will dig this book! It's so fun and clean and yet still sexy!" And then come the accusations of vulgarity. sigh You really, really can't anticipate how people will respond. For me, a kissing scene is good clean fun, but for others it's wrong and degrading. For me the mild language was clean and added spice and character, but for others it was offensive. I am so sorry about that. I would so like for all readers to feel "safe" in my books. A part of me wants to please everyone, to never offend anyone, to make everyone happy...but I don't know how. I just have to keep going with what I know--writing for my internal reader. And let all those external readers respond any way they need to.

I just hope they respond nicely.

Goth girl

"The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid."
Northanger Abbey

Myrna asked in a recent comment, "You don't really dislike Northanger Abbey, do you?" Thanks, Myrna. You're not the only one wondering about this, so I should probably clarify. It seems I've earned a reputation as a Northanger Abbey hater because of a line in austenland: "Sure, Jane had first read Pride and Prejudice when she was sixteen, read it a dozen times since, and read the other Austen novels at least twice, except Northanger Abbey (of course)." Though I didn't anticipate this reaction, I can understand why people might think I'm bashing the book, so let me explain.

The truth is, I very much like Northanger Abbey. I took a class in college where we studied gothic romances, sentimentalism, and the emergence of realism as the dominate literary style. It was fascinating, my favorite literary theory class of all time. Northanger Abbey is a parody of gothic romance, a very popular style of novel in Austen's day. As a general rule, I'm a big fan of parody. I also love Austen and highly enjoy gothic romance, so all that adds up to a book that is quite my cup of tea. It doesn't hold my heart as securely as Persuasion and Pride and Prejudice for sheer reading pleasure, but I'm quite fond of it.

So why that line in austenland? Because if you were to take a broad poll of non-scholarly readers of Austen, those who read her for fun, the one book that most of them won't have read or else won't have enjoyed as much as the others is Northanger Abbey. (Quite often I find they will have started it but never bothered to finish.) I am not Jane Hayes, my main character. As much as some of her personality intersects with mine, we're very different. Just as I am quite different from Ani, Enna, Razo, Miri, Sileph, Ungolad (let's hope, anyway)...And I'm also not the authoritative voice of the austenland narrator, who bandies about opinions I don't always agree with. I didn't write this book in order to subject the reader to my personal opinions. I wrote it...well, so I could laugh. The line was supposed to be funny.

Now my mind is racing ahead, wondering what I can write in my next book to outrage large special interest groups...

"Everyone knows," said Susan as she unloaded the groceries, "that Shakespeare is a fraud and a poser. I sprinkled some vinegar on my copy of The Tempest and used it to clean my windows."
"Good call," said Charlotte. "Are we going out to eat at The Olive Garden tonight? You know how I love supporting those chain restaurants. Let's drive all the ma & pa diners out of business."
"High five me on that, sister!"

(P.S. That last bit was a joke.)

Glammin' it up

I got an email that austenland would be featured in Glamour magazine in August. In a section called "Reviews you can use: 8 things you'll love this month," they have a cover shot of austenland and a brief and lovely review. This is a magazine I never, ever imagined to find my name in. Cool, I wanted to scream. That is so freakin' cool!

When I read the email, I was wearing capri sweat pants and a t-shirt splattered with baby food. I hadn't left the house in two days, partly because on Monday I had a pre-cancer spot removed from above my lip and am sporting a band-aid that resembles a faux-Hitler moustache. (So I also hadn't done my hair or put on any make-up -- really, what's the point when you have band-aid in mustache position?) Because of the surgery, my upper lip was swollen to three times its normal size and seemed more beak than mouth. I had eaten 2 (two) chocolate cake donuts and spent much of my time cleaning up various child-related messes from the carpet.

That's me. 100% Glamour.

And now...normal life

Yes, the austenland tour is over. I have one more event this Saturday in Provo, but no more airports or taxis until the book of a thousand days tour starts in October. It was fantastic. So wonderful to meet such fun, intelligent people everywhere, so great to tuck myself into all those wonderful bookstores. Truly the best way to travel is to hop from bookstore to bookstore.

Fun news keeps coming in...austenland mentioned in Newsweek, princess academy paperback on its third week on the NYT bestseller list, 9th (I think) on the Booksense list, Max brilliantly sweet and uber-active despite a fractured foot, Maggie winning all baby contests hands down. And someday here soon, I'm really going to tackle that Bayern 4 first draft. Seriously.

I have my camera at last! Thanks to Nikki for tracking it down. Here are a couple of photos from the King's English party:

My sister and I pose with the guest of honor. Yes, that is Colin Firth there in two-dimensional perfection. My friend Laura Middleton (of limerick fame) made him especially for the party. He now lives in my bedroom. Except when he's staring out the sliding glass door into the backyard. It's pure joy. I've taught Max to say "Hello Mr. Darcy" politely whenever he passes. Max has found nothing odd in this new housemate, has never asked a question about it. Makes me wonder just how normally odd our home is. And doesn't my sister look fantastic? She pulled off the Regency lady much better than I did.

Here's a scene from the karaoke fun. Jessica and Mark headed up the show. The only outfit we could find for Mark was a George Washington gig, but it included the essential breeches and gave him the appearance of a noble Regency servant. Which we then exploited all night. Such a good sport. See another gorgeous Regency lady on the left? She won a costume prize. It was quite a swingin' party, if I do say so.

Our Chum Jane

A curious thing: I was on NPR's Weekend Edition this morning, interviewed by Linda Wertheimer. Wow. How about them apples?

And while I'm at it, another curious thing—with all the focus on Jane Austen lately (new movies, new Austen-inspired books, general Austen love fest), there’s emerged much speculation on her looks. I’ve read more than one snarky journalist bemoan the fact that Austen wasn’t a looker. They say such things as, “Isn’t it a shame that the writer of Pride and Prejudice herself wasn’t attractive enough to bag a husband? Her fans mourn the fact that she didn’t look like her movie-version heroines.”

Um, you couldn’t be more wrong, daddy-o. And it may not only be for the reason that you guess. Sure, we might take the high road here and argue it’s not a person’s outer appearance but inner…so on, so forth…and that’s why we don’t care whether or not Austen was pretty. Certainly that’s true, but there’s so much more. We don’t need Jane Austen to be the ideal of feminine beauty because she’s not our romantic interest—instead, and far more importantly, she’s the ideal of our best friend.

Who else in all of history would we rather sit beside at a boring meeting than the woman who once said, “I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal."  Who else would we rather sent us a letter from home than she who wrote to her sister, "You express so little anxiety about my being murdered under Ash Park Copse by Mrs. Hulbert's servant, that I have a great mind not to tell you whether I was or not." We love her because we love her thoughts, her words, her delicious way of looking askance at the world. Whenever we’re in the midst of reading Austen, we walk around with a touch of her sensibility, as if her witty, sardonic voice were a ghost over our shoulder, and our thoughts began to see the world as she might. It’s delightful and often vital to keep her voice with us, especially at those moments when we’re in danger of taking it all too seriously. Having romance issues? Too often subjected to the pompous and the snide? You, my friend, need a little dose of Jane.

So who among us would actually wish that Jane Austen looked like Keira Knightly? The Pride and Prejudice star may be nice to watch on the big screen, but can you imagine vegging out with that skinny beauty? Her fitness routine includes eating no carbs after four p.m. I mean, really. Of course we don’t need Austen to be breathlessly beautiful because, let’s face it, we’re not. Thank goodness. Those kinds of women are beyond irritating—the kind who only want to hang out when they’re temporarily boyfriend-less, the kind who go with you to a party but leave you to drive home alone.

No, we’re not that woman, so we don’t want Jane Austen to be either. But some folk just don’t get it. Case in point: The only known portrait of Austen is a sketch done by her sister Cassandra, a likeness that some have described as “dreary.” For a new edition of Austen’s works, publishers have prettified the sketch, dolling her up to supposedly increase her appeal.

Well, excuse us, but we LOVE the portrait as is. Austen has her arms folded, looking to one side, as if saying, “Come on, Cassandra, I want to get back to my writing. Mary Musgrove is just about to say something horrifying.” She’s got lines under her eyes, making her look a bit tired but also intensely human. She’s no slouch—she’s curled her hair, made herself nice. She doesn’t have the glazed, sterile expression of one trying to look her best, she’s not airbrushed and falsely perfected. Cassandra has caught Jane in a tangible attitude. She’s the woman we love caught at an off moment, but nothing a girl’s night out and a chocolate mint milkshake won’t cure.

All this speculation and lamenting Austen’s looks is pointless. We her loyal readers don’t wonder whether or not Austen was beautiful—we already know. She wasn’t a starlet and she wasn’t a hag. She was a woman, just like us, sorta pretty and sorta plain, who sometimes caught an admiring eye but often didn’t, who mostly spent the party at the side of the room, observing, exchanging witty remarks, and laughing herself sick with a best friend. Us. Whenever we’re reading her books, we shamelessly claim Jane Austen as our best friend. And if she were ever to ask us, “How do I look?” We’d say without hesitation, “Jane honey, you look divine.”

Awash in austenland

Maggie and I will be at the Changing Hands bookstore in Phoenix tomorrow (Tuesday) night. My first visit to Arizona! For a Utahn, that's uber-ridiculous.

It's been very interesting to see reactions to this book as they come rolling in. I've never had a book where I've had to deal with such extremes. With the young adult books, the feedback has been breathtakingly positive to mildly indifferent, but really never dipped below that line. Not so with austenland. Some of the reviews (by individuals at least) have been downright contemptuous.

Is it the difference of grown-up versus young adult books? Is it just because my style is different with this book? Maybe. But I think the major reason is because I've stepped onto sacred ground--Jane Austen. She is revered. And by writing an Austen-inspired book, the potential to offend those who love her is serious. I love her too. But in a different way than some, I guess. Just as friends. You know.

I think another big factor is that this book essentially is a comedy. And humor is personal. Some people just plain don't think it's funny. That's cool. I mean, you've got your own thing going on and you can work it. Go ahead. Work it, work it, shimmy shimmy coco-puff. Not everyone has the same sense of humor, thank goodness, or I might actually have to laugh at those frat boy prank movies.

So often lately I've been experiencing a sensation like where you tell a joke at a party and suddenly everyone goes quiet to hear it and then no one laughs, and you're left with the cricket noises, smiling apologetically for your lame joke. And then the next minute in another room, telling the same joke and being knocked over by appreciating laughter and applause. Man. If I took either of those responses too seriously, I'd be a basketcase. Good thing I spend a large portion of my free time changing diapers.

Sorry no austenland party photos yet. My friend fetched my camera from The King's English for me, and it wasn't mine. I don't know if it was a mix up or if my camera really is lost. Maybe someone stole it and took it home to put on their secret Shannon Hale shrine in their closet. That would be creepy. Also lame because I'd have to buy a new camera. But also kind of funny. I mean, come on, a Shannon Hale shrine? That's funny, isn't it? Anyone?

Anyway, a supercool review from The Bookpage, my new favorite review journal: "the best Austen tribute since Karen Joy Fowler’s The Jane Austen Book Club....chick lit with soul….there’s a laugh on nearly every page—Hale, like Austen, is adept at subtly skewering the ridiculous..." Huzzah, huzzah!

Regency-a-go-go

Tomorrow is the big austenland release party at The King's English for all you folks hereabouts (2 pm). And to clarify some points:

True: I will be adorned in a Regency era dress.

False: I will be looking smokin' hot.

True: There will be open mike karaoke all afternoon during the signing.

False: I will be performing a solo rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings."

True: We're going to have a red hot good time. You may want to bring your camera for a certain photo op...

And I hope you will permit me a small squee as I tell you that princess academy paperback is back on the New York Times Best Seller list (squee!).

Now, just because it is SO cool, I must share a limerick my friend Laura Middleton wrote in honor of the austenland release:

If the Pembrook Park (a.k.a. Austenland) brochure were written in limericks:

Our sales pitch:

If you're seeking a lovely vacation,
Or you've got (shhh!) a Darcy fixation,
Then come and make haste!
We'll keep it all chaste
But won't skimp on fervent flirtation.


Our location:

Forgo the hot sun of the beaches.
Walk gardens, taste sweet English peaches,
Enjoy our terrain.
(Ostensibly, Jane.)
Did we mention the men all wear breeches?


Our guarantee:

For one of our gents you'll be fallin'.
Any reticence we'll be forstallin',
'Cause your corset's tight strain
Cuts the blood to your brain;
Then, any old guy looks like Colin.