Author: Frances

Jane Austen at Home

Jane Austen at HomeThis book could be considered a companion piece to the BBC documentary Jane Austen: Behind Closed Doors.

“Young people reading Jane Austen for the first time think that the stories are about love and romance and finding a partner” (p.2) but Lucy argues that Jane “didn’t really believe that a man, on his own, could bring a happy ending,” (p.175) it’s the home he promises that’s important.

There is detail that the conservative Victorians tried to gloss over – that her family worked to keep a household running; they dug in the garden, they tended cows, they were not idle gentry. More attention is paid to Bath and Southampton, a period in her life that is often ignored perhaps because it’s not idyllic; it was an unsettled time. Cassandra was there when she died, but it’s never mentioned that her sister in law Mary was in attendance too.

Jane’s love life is explored in detail; it’s bigger than you’d think. There’s a doctor, a lawyer, a clergyman and her almost mythical romance at the seaside. Tom Lefroy based on his letters turned out to be a “pompous, Puritanical bore” (p.188). I always wondered if she was teasing about her relationship with him but everyone else takes it so seriously.

I found one mistake and I loved this book so much that I hate to say it. The text refers to Isabella Thorpe always wearing white in Northanger Abbey but this is incorrect, it’s Miss Tilney (p.91).

Jane comes across as a determined woman who recognised that “good fortune was not going to come knocking on her door, either in the form of a husband of a legacy. But she could go out looking for good fortune herself” (p.227). I recognise myself in Jane, like Lucy “I have found her to be simply a far, far better version of myself: clever, kind, funny but also angry at the restrictions of her life, someone tirelessly searching for ways to be free and creative” (p.4), someone “so private that even members of her own family did not know her” (p.26).

In the last poem Jane Austen wrote appears the line:

But behold me immortal!

It’s a loss that she didn’t live longer, that she didn’t write more. It’s been argued that people have children to achieve a form of immortality; for Jane her books are her children. She raised (wrote) them so well that 200 years later they still have an impact.

Also posted on the Jane Austen Society of NZ

Nights End

Nights End, the final in the Nights Champion trilogy, released the first day of Lexicon. I finished reading it the last day of Lexicon. This feels appropriate as the first two were shortlisted for the Sir Julius Vogel award for Best Novel.

The cast has grown over the series and it’s hard to keep track of everyone. At one point someone appeared and I had no idea who he was till the next scene. There’s someone for everyone; a tough female detective, a powerful young woman, a military woman…do you notice a theme here? There are some guys thrown in too; one of them is even a werewolf (don’t worry there’s a female werewolf too).

Coffee plays a big role in this book. It appears throughout to be argued about, savoured, and at one point it even appears without being ordered. I could bet a lot of coffee was consumed in the writing of this novel.

It’s about the same length as its predecessors but it feels less wordy, more concise. I found two typos (because I’m the sort of person that those things irritate) but I bet you won’t notice.

There are a lot of moving parts, it’s a complex story of a near apocalypse. It went into some interesting religious places which could have been explored more fully and the ending was almost too tidy. It unwittingly stumbles into other genres; there are two occurrences of instalove that trope of romance fiction.

Nights Favor, the first in the series, was Richard Parry’s first published work. As you’d expect he’s learnt a lot and it shows. I think it’s safe to say that Nights End will join the rest of the series on the nominee list.

(If you’d like you own copy you can get it here)

Also posted on specfic.nz

Lexicon 2017

lexicon

noun, plural lexica [lek-si-kuh], lexicons.
  1. a wordbook or dictionary, especially of Greek, Latin, or Hebrew.
  2. the vocabulary of a particular language, field, social class, person,etc.
  3. inventory or record:
    unparalleled in the lexicon of human relations.
  4. Linguistics.
    • a) the total inventory of morphemes in a given language.
    • b) the inventory of base morphemes plus their combinations with derivational morphemes.
[dictionary.com]

Though I’m not technically a SpecFic writer I somehow ended up at a SpecFic convention over Queens Birthday weekend. I spent most of my time anti-socially reading Nights End, the final in Richard Parry’s Night’s Champion series*, as it was released on Friday (you can read my review here).

The venue for Lexicon could not have been more perfect. The Suncourt Hotel was very accommodating (they let people bring rats!), could house most of the attendees and the bar/restaurant was right next to the convention rooms…not that anyone decided to forgo a talk for a coffee or beer at all. Also Taupo is ridiculously beautiful. I’m glad I had a day before the convention to enjoy it.

I managed to sunbathe on the second day of winter and even get a little writing done.

Other attendees read a lot more widely than I do so I got super excited when books or authors I was familiar with were mentioned. During the Crossing Genres panel I realised I know none of the rules of genre. During the Book Covers talk I realised I probably draw more attention to myself when I don’t want attention (my pretty, pretty book cover was mentioned – more on this later). During Publicity for Authors I realised at some point I’m going to pay someone to do marketing for me rather than do it myself.

During the Out of the Background panel Cassie Hart talked about how stage of life can influence your writing. How motherhood and pregnant women kept turning up in her writing. I recently realised that, although I lack a genre, themes appear in my writing. A central female character dealing with loss, trying to be independent at a transition point in their life.

There was a lovely community feeling; speakers were also attendees and therefore very approachable. Highlights of the weekend include; the multi-coloured “con hair” of many participants (and my jealousy of said hair), a very bad microphone which speakers had to get intimate with to be heard, but most of all, above all things was Seanan McGuire.

I hadn’t heard of Guest of Honour Seanan McGuire before this and even if I never read anything she’s published I’m a fan. She can speak eloquently on almost any topic, she’s generous, kind, funny, intelligent, widely read and multi talented.

I drove home with the co-chairs of the convention asking them what they’ll do differently when they never do it again and dreaming about how much I’d love an Austen convention just like it.

*The second in the series, Nights Fall, was shortlisted for an SJV. Richard was also shortlisted for best new talent.

A little Austen in your everyday life

I am wondering whether I need a tag line:

A little Austen in your everyday life

because, whether intentionally or not, she keeps popping up in my writing. People tell me it vaguely resembles hers, I borrow characters, concepts, plot lines. Being so immersed in Austen it makes sense that she would appear; she’s been a huge influence in my life.

If you read Alison’s the Sensible One then read Beautiful Abomination you may be asking “where’s the Austen?” There is one big intentional Austen reference, though there may be others even I didn’t pick up on.

At the end of Mansfield Park when Edmund finally breaks it off with Mary Crawford he realizes he’d never been in love with her, who she really was, but with the person he’d wanted her to be. He tells Fanny he would rather have all the pain of parting from Mary than the pain of knowing that she didn’t exist, so he could still hold on to a small part of her. There is something so beautiful, so vulnerable in this.

Who among us hasn’t been misled, or misled themselves, on the character of a partner or friend?

 

The plague

Imagine 19 people in a 5 bedroom home for a long weekend. Imagine these people are related. Now imagine these people one-by-one succumb to the plague. Sounds like a great story right? Not so much if you live it.

This was my Easter holiday weekend.

My thoughts while voiding my guts ranged from “Huh, I ate carrot” to “I’m never going to eat gluten or diary again, why me?” to “Wow, there’s a lot in there.”

The plague hit at a rate of two per day (with a days delay for travelling – hitting two more once they reached their destination). Thankfully each case only lasted 24 hours and it skipped the pregnant lady (that’s right, soon there’ll be 20 of us).

Another unexpected present of this trip – black socks that now have orange bottoms thanks to the liberal amount of bleach used throughout the weekend (in the hopes of stemming the plague).

We survived and next time we holiday together (oh don’t worry, it’s already planned) we’ve opted for seperate motel rooms to make quarantine easier.

Jane Austen The Secret Radical

I read several reviews of Jane Austen The Secret Radical before reading the book itself. Reviewers Abigail Bok and John Mullan agree that there isn’t much new. This is amusing as Mullan’s What Matters In Jane Austen* has even less original material. I agree with him that Edward Ferrars and Catherine Moreland’s behaviour is unlikely to have Freudian undertones. But those who view Austen’s novels as romances may be surprised (“Jane’s novels aren’t romantic. But it’s become increasingly difficult for readers to see this.” p. 31); readers who know about Austen herself won’t be. 

Kelly (the author) points out that much of what we take for fact is hypothesis or family tradition. The book includes a lot of historical fact, not all of it solidly tied to Austen.  For example, abortion was legal during part of Austen’s lifetime (an interesting point as there is a movement to legalise it in NZ). She declares the real reason Jane Austen never married is because “sex can kill you” (p. 69). What then for Charlotte Lucas who married Mr Collins a “fate worse than death” (p.137)?

There are some strange ideas; that Mary Musgrove is pregnant, that Catherine never finishes the Mysteries of Udolpho, that Anne and Fredrick aren’t in love at the beginning of Persuasion, that Harriet and Jane Fairfax are sisters. But the most laughably absurd is that Mr Knightley has ulterior motives in marrying Emma and that he’s a “terrible landlord” ( p. 235).

Jane Austen The Secret Radical is written on the premise that “it’s impossible for anyone to write thousands upon thousands of words and reveal nothing of how they think or what they believe” (p. 30). But almost anything can be twisted to mean what you want it to – just look at The Bible. Do give it a read though, she might convince you.

All quotes from Kelly, H (2016). Jane Austen the Secret Radical. London: Icon.
*I recommend you read Jane Austen the Secret Radical over What Matters in Jane Austen. Or read both.

This review is also posted on the Jane Austen Society of Aotearoa NZ

We Won’t Know the Ramifications

Last week was the six year anniversary of the Christchurch earthquake that killed 185 people. A memorial wall was unveiled for the occasion, much like a war memorial, it lists the names of the people that died. My next book is set in the week leading up to this tragedy.

After the first big quake in September 2010 there was a certain amount of just carrying on with life. This is something I experienced in Wellington following the Kaikoura earthquake  in November last year. But after the second large quake it became clear that things would never be the same for Christchurch.

I explore this feeling in my new book; how one event, one choice, one realization can change the entire course of your life. We won’t know the ramifications till much later. Over the course of a week huge changes happen for characters and they have no idea what is drawing closer.

Beautiful Abomination will be published in March.

2016: the year in review

This was a hard year. The normal rounds of death, political upheavals, and natural disasters seemed to multiply. I’ve never heard so many people refer to a year as the problem (“fuck 2106″or “bloody 2016”).

I had my share of disappointments this year too; a broken heart, a lost job, an earthquake, losing the bid on a house and that’s besides worrying about the state of the world. But, 2016 had some wonderful life changing events too; my two brothers got married, my niece was born and I published my first book. I made some wonderful new friends and built friendships with people who were previously acquaintances.

I’m looking forward to 2017 being a better year (it doesn’t have to try hard to achieve that). My next book, Beautiful Abomination, a complete rewrite of something I wrote years ago, should be published. I’m toying with the idea of publishing some poetry; very, very, bad poetry. Another niece or nephew will be born, there will be a family holiday and I will probably purchase a new house. I’m optimistic about 2017 and I hope you are too.

I leave you with a summary of all that was wrong with 2016:

Earthquakes and Body Disposal

Times of natural disaster are a good time to practice body disposal. That’s how the mind of a writer works.* If you don’t want to be disturbed avoid looking at their search history, or sitting within hearing distance of a group of them. I had thought it was just the writers I knew but I recently attended an authors panel, they mentioned how the general public are uncomfortable with the things writers discuss openly.

Wellington was hit by some big earthquakes this week. There was driving around in the early hours of the morning due to evacuations, messages from writing friends and oddly a couple of exes (it’s nice to know you care but you need to move on). My current work-in-progress is set during the Christchurch earthquakes of 2011. Recent events have made me consider depicting the earthquakes themselves. I think it’s just a distraction. You can have an apocalypse story (not that this is) but what you really care about are the people involved.

When someone legitimately dies there are limited options to dispose of a body legally; burial, cremation or donation to a medical school. Unfortunately I don’t live close enough to either of the medical schools to donate…unless I plan my death well. I can still (and intend to) donate organs. Natural burial is the most environmentally friendly form of body disposal.  I found a cemetery that does this in Wellington. I also found traditional (natural) coffins. When I go I’m going in this one:

*When I hear fireworks I think it would be a good cover for gun fire
Published
Categorised as on death

On death

I interrupt myself from asking a friend if she thinks someone would die if they fell down the hill behind her house to ask instead;

“Do you think I’m morbid?”

“Yes. But I like that about you.”

When critiquing another writers stories I often ask whether characters I dislike are going to die. I cheer when they kill off characters.

I have a strange idea that I’m only going to live till 41. I have no idea why. Perhaps because Jane Austen died at 41. A friends response to this was;

“I’m 41. That’s not old.”

I’ve dated guys older than him. I know 41 isn’t old. But, for the moment at least, that feels like my use-by date.

A friend is turning 70 next month. This is a huge milestone for him as his father died at 69, his grandfather didn’t make 70 either and, he’s worried he won’t make it.

A couple of years ago I started watching the Ask a Mortician YouTube series. This changed the way I view death. I used to be scared of it. Now I recognise it’s inevitable, it’s what happens to all of us, it’s how we all end. To be honest I’m looking forward to it. To me it seems like a big sleep and I need one of those.

I’m not saying I put myself in dangerous situations. My body was not impressed when I went sky diving, it was several months before it trusted me again. I don’t want to piss my body off so I don’t put it in situations it’s uncomfortable with. You may notice I talk about my body separately. My mind was calm, even during free fall; I only screamed when I remembered that’s what you were supposed to do. After the parachute opened I asked the instructor in a normal voice;

“How long till we’re on the ground? I would prefer to be on the ground, please.”*

I’m not a thrill seeker. I don’t even like scary movies. I appreciated when a friend, seeing I was nervous about the fate of characters on screen, leaned over to tell me;

“It’s OK. They don’t die.”

Last year I wrote my will. I don’t have a significant other or anyone I can rely on to take care of things for me when I die. I think this year I may plan my funeral to make it easier for my sister who is the executor of my will.

I found a natural burial cemetery in Wellington and funeral homes who specialise. I intend to investigate further, I will keep you posted.

*Even when fearing death I am extremely polite