Collected Samples of His Good Opinion

I've shared three samples of His Good Opinion over the last few months. They're all scattered around my blog however, so I've gathered them here in one place.

Chapter One

"I will never understand, Darcy, why you insist on going out in Society only to be displeased with everyone you meet."

Fitzwilliam Darcy poured two glasses of brandy and handed one to his friend before he took the chair opposite him. "I go out because it is expected of me, Bingley. You know that."

Charles Bingley pointed at him. "Ah, but that does not answer the question, does it?"

Darcy conceded the point with the barest shrug of his shoulders. Here, in the comfort of his own study, there was no need to pretend. "I admit that I find little in Society of which to approve."

"Only because you are determined to disapprove." Bingley protested. "What of the young lady you sat out with tonight? Let me hear your opinion of her."

Darcy ran his fingers down the side of his glass. "Her aunt approached me and said her niece had sprained her ankle, and would I be willing to keep her company? Good manners forbade I refuse, though you know how little I enjoy making conversation with someone I am not intimately acquainted with. I have not your ease of speaking on subjects in which I have little or no interest." His lips curled in disdain, and he took a sip of brandy to wash the sour taste from his mouth.

"That is a commentary on your own character, not the lady's."

He ignored the familiar needling. "After two minutes of idle chatter, I inquired after her injury."

Satisfaction gleamed in Bingley's eyes. "Ah, you are capable courtesy after all."

Darcy leaned forward, his forehead creased in a frown. "Perhaps you will not be so victorious, Bingley, when you hear the rest of the story. She did not understand what I spoke of. When she returned to her aunt shortly thereafter, she did not have a limp. The entire incident was manufactured so she could gain my attention. No doubt they have heard that I do not dance often —"

"Or ever."

The leather chair creaked in protest when Darcy stood. He took Bingley's glass and strode to the table, glad to have something to do, even if it was only refilling their drinks. This topic never failed to rile him, but he found a measure of calm in pouring the liquor into their glasses.

"They sought a way to get time with me, and they found it. You wish to know why I so seldom give my good opinion to those I meet; it is this dishonesty, this deception of which I cannot approve. I cannot—I will not—marry a woman I do not trust."

Bingley took his refilled glass, and Darcy noted his frown with some vexation. "You are being a bit presumptuous, Darcy. How can you be so certain she wished to marry you? It was simply a dance."

Darcy set the decanter down on the tray with a hard clang. "Surely even you will acknowledge that a single woman in possession of no brothers must be in want of a husband."

Bingley shook his head and laughed. "You can hardly claim that to be a universal truth."

Darcy ran his hands through his close-cropped dark curls. Has it truly escaped his notice that he too has received such attentions? Though it was this very ability to see nothing but the good in people that recommended Bingley to him, at times his amiable nature bordered on naiveté. 

"Perhaps not universal, but a truth nonetheless." He paced the confines of the study. The paneled walls, usually calming, pressed in on him tonight. London always wore on his nerves, but this Season had been worse than most. "I need to get out of town, Bingley."

Bingley eyed Darcy over the edge of his glass. "You sound as if you had a plan in mind."

Darcy stood in front of the empty fireplace and tapped his fingers on the mantle. "I believe it is time I visited Georgiana in Ramsgate."

"Is that what has made you so tense of late? I know you take great care of her."

Bingley's insight startled Darcy. "Yes, I imagine so. I trust Mrs. Younge of course or I would not have consented to the plan. Still, I will feel better once I see for myself how she is getting on." He turned back to his friend, at ease for the first time in weeks.

"When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Bingley raised his eyebrows. "That is rather spontaneous, Darcy—indeed, it is the kind of precipitous decision you often tease me for."

Darcy tossed back the rest of his brandy before he answered. "In truth, I have been thinking about it some weeks," he replied. "I just did not realize it until tonight."

"Well, if you are decided, then I wish you safe travels."

Bingley rose and shook his hand in farewell, and Darcy retired for the night soon after. He slept well, content with the knowledge he would soon be free of the artifice of town, once again in a comfortable family setting.

From Chapter 11: The Netherfield Ball

Darcy glanced at his watch one last time. Guests had begun arriving over half an hour ago, and he had purposely delayed his own entrance in order to avoid the Bennet family. For Mrs. Bennet surely saw to it they were among the first to arrive.

He walked through the open doors, and all his good intentions were lost. Elizabeth Bennet stood not ten feet away. Her back was to him, and though Darcy told himself to turn away, to pretend he had not seen her, he could not.

She took his breath away. The delicate fabric of her ball gown revealed more of the lithe lines of her figure than he had previously seen, and the candlelight caught and reflected off the jewels in her hair.

 Darcy approached her slowly, gauging his own reaction. Only when he was certain he could maintain his usual reserve did he speak. "Miss Elizabeth?"

She turned, and he wondered if perhaps he had overestimated his own control. Up close, he could see the smooth texture of her creamy skin, and he clenched a fist to keep himself from taking her hand to see if it felt as satiny as it looked.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?"

He flushed at the question in her voice; how long had he stood without saying a word? "I trust the weather has not dampened your sprits this evening?"

He thought her smile was a little forced, but as he himself struggled to find enjoyment in balls, he did not wonder at it. "You will find, sir, that I rarely allow anything to interfere with my enjoyment."

He bowed and walked away to hide the emotions those words stirred in him. "You will find…" Could this possibly be a hint that she would welcome further attentions from me? Darcy had thought himself immune to her charms, inured against them by the knowledge of her family connections. However, the idea that she would encourage his suit enthralled him, and none of his previous arguments held any weight against it. 

From Chapter 25

Richard left the following morning for the Fitzwilliam family seat near Matlock, and Darcy, in desperate need of distraction, threw himself into the affairs of his own estate. In consequence of his lengthy absences over the last year, there were many things that have been left unattended to.

Nothing, however, could drive Elizabeth from his mind. With every task he completed, he was conscious of how much easier or pleasanter it would have been with her by his side.

 When he walked the estate with his steward, he remembered Georgiana commenting that he needed a wife who could walk with him, and he thought again of Elizabeth and the walks they had shared in Kent. How he had looked forward then to showing her the grounds of Pemberley and his favorite walks through the park. Those spots he had loved all his life lacked luster, now that he saw them without Elizabeth. 

Not long after his return to Pemberley, one of his best tenants celebrated the birth of his first child. By rights, the mistress of the estate would visit the family—but Pemberley had no mistress. 

When Darcy appeared on the Coombs' doorstep, the man could not hide his surprise. "Mr. Darcy!"

"Good day, Coombs. I hear your wife has provided you with a son."

Coombs snapped his gaping mouth shut and swallowed. "Yes sir. That is… Well, yes sir. May I ask, sir, why you are here?"

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "I should think that obvious, Coombs. I came to congratulate you."

Coombs nodded slowly. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Would you like to come in and see James?"

Darcy took his hat off and followed Coombs into the cottage. Mrs. Coombs smiled up at him when he entered. "Mr. Darcy, this is such a surprise!"

He knit his brows together for a moment. Why are they both so shocked to see me pay this form of courtesy? 

Before he could think any more on the question, a babe was thrust into his arMiss "This is our James—isn't he the sweetest lad you ever did see?"  

Darcy held the child six inches out from his chest, and when James yawned and stretched, he panicked. Please do not wake. But young James had not yet learnt that the master of Pemberley was always to be obeyed, and the tiny eyes opened. On beholding an unfamiliar face, his mouth opened in a wail that would have scared years off the life of a grown man, had he not known where it originated. 

Mrs. Coombs bustled over and took her child back into the comfort of her arMiss "There there, Jamesey—Mama's here. You aren't afraid of Mr. Darcy, are you?"

Darcy watched in wonder as the child immediately quieted and settled back to sleep. Never had he been more aware of his own awkwardness, or longed more for Elizabeth's ease of manner.

The incident did not quickly leave his thoughts. Late into the evening he pondered it, always coming back to one thing: his own tenants, who knew him to be a generous landlord, had been surprised when he also showed them courtesy. 

"Your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance…"

Was there truth in her words? Did he look down on those he saw as beneath him and not treat them with the same kindness he treated those of his own class?

Darcy paced the length of his study, an empty brandy glass in his hand. How do my fellow landowners see me? Would they be likewise surprised to receive a note from me on the birth or marriage of one of their offspring? The answer came in an instant—they would not. Those common forms of politeness were de rigueur among the upper class.

Am I then so caught up with social standing that I cannot offer simple congratulations to a family without it being a noteworthy event? Was Elizabeth so right about me? 

Darcy had long acknowledged he had not the ease or openness of manner that many did. Of course he had pride in his family and his land, but he had never taken the time to consider how that was presented to others. In truth, he had never cared enough for the opinion of others to care how they saw him, but now he wondered if it was more than how he appeared. Am I truly prideful?

Over the next few weeks, he examined his interactions with all he met: staff, tenant, and landowner alike. What was his first response in all of these situations? Was it one of habitual pride? Did he consider himself so far above even his friends? Were Elizabeth's accusations true?

Such self-examination is never a pleasant course of study, and therefore, Richard's return in late May was welcome for the diversion it offered. "Did you grow tired of your family so soon?" Darcy gibed when they were seated in the study.

His Good Opinion can be purchased from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, Amazon UK, Amazon DE, and Amazon FR. 

Giveaway Winner!!

After taking out my post and taking account for those who put all their entries in one post, there were 41 entries for The Annotated Pride and Prejudice giveaway. I popped the numbers into Mr. Random, and the lucky number was 38.

Congratulations, Whitney! Please contact me with your address, and I'll get the book in the mail to you right away.

Thank you everyone for entering, and stay tuned for more giveaways as my book release approaches.

Sense and Sensibility Adaptations

I know I've been remarkably lax in the one reading challenge I entered this year. I confessed in January that Sense and Sensibility is not my favorite Austen book, but still, I felt I should re-read it before I started reading and watching various adaptations.

Well, the Sense and Sensibility group read at Indiejane.org just finished yesterday, so now I'm ready. We started our read by hosting a virtual movie night--the '95 movie--in our chat room, and then last week I finally watched the newer BBC production. I'm going to compare them today, knocking off two items for the challenge!

There are two major areas that affect the way an adaptation strikes the audience: casting and script. Both productions have pros and cons on both.

Casting:

I do not care for Hugh Grant in the role of Edward. Dan Stevens was far more suited to it, and I realized as I watched how much Grant's demeanor affected my opinion of the character--keeping in mind that the movie was my first introduction to the story and characters.

Until I watched Dan Stevens as Edward, I truly disliked the character. I could not forgive him for his behavior at Norland, for not leaving once he realized he was in love with Elinor. I couldn't understand how Elinor could accept it! Why wasn't she angry when she found out he'd been engaged the whole time? Looking back on the story, I think it was Grant's delivery of the apology which struck me wrong. Stevens was just pitch perfect in all those scenes, including... ah, but that is part of the script, is it not?

On the other side, for me, Alan Rickman is Colonel Brandon. I didn't dislike David Morrissey, but once you've seen a portrayal you love so much, it is hard to accept anyone else in the role. My favorite scene is at Cleveland when he begs Elinor to give him something to do to keep his mind off Marianne's illness. It strikes just the right note of barely restrained despair that I imagine him to feel.

Script:


Something odd happened here. Usually, I prefer the mini-series version of Austen novels, as there's simply too much to fit into a feature length film. However, despite the things that were cut or only hinted at in Thompson's script, I feel she did a better job, for one reason: she use a much larger percentage of Austen's dialogue.

Jane Austen wrote superior dialogue. It moves the plot along, it defines her characters, and it is charming and witty. Why write other lines that only attempt to say the same thing hers did? I was surprised to find this problem, because the 1995 Pride and Prejudice, also by Sir Andrew Davies, did an amazing job at sticking to the dialogue in the book.

I have to wonder if the shorter length played a part here. Sense and Sensibility is only half as long as Pride and Prejudice, and it's possible he felt there simply wasn't time to use Austen's dialogue. There were certainly some very choppy scene changes, such as when Mrs. Jennings announced they were all removing to Cleveland.

There were four places where I really appreciated the new script:

1. The beginning. Mildly salacious (which Davies seems to prefer), it goes a long way toward displaying Willougby's character. However, on further reflection part of the plot of the book is the whole mystery--is he a rogue or an honorable gentleman? Showing his seduction of Eliza in the first five minutes of the film is like reading the last chapter of a mystery first.
2. The duel. I loved actually seeing this. It's one of those little things you might not even be aware of if you skim over that chapter of the book, but Brandon does indeed call Willoughby out. However (again, a caveat!), I thought the way they filmed in and where they placed it made it seem like he was calling him out over Marianne, not Eliza. If one hadn't read the book before, they would certainly get that impression.
3. Edward's first apology. Though I don't believe for a minute that Elinor and Edward would have had a conversation that came that close to acknowledging what their relationship was while he was still engaged, I absolutely loved his question--"Why don't you think badly of me?" (Um... paraphrasing here!) That sincere admission of guilt and repentance did more to win me over to the character than anything else. 
4. Willougby's horrible excuse for an apology. Okay, Austen purists. I admit, this is one thing I really don't care for in the book. Why does he get to come back and explain away all his bad actions? Why does Elinor give him time to do so, and then accept at the very least, he always loved Marianne and will regret her? Why doesn't she just say, "Hey! You lost your chance because you were too selfish to do the honorable thing. Get out!"? These are things Nancy wants to know, and the abbreviated apology in the mini-series (which is completely omitted in the film) gave me some small bit of satisfaction.

All that being said, the film script wasn't perfect. As mentioned, it omits Willougby's apology altogether. There are times when dialogue moves from mouth to mouth, most notably when Marianne gives Elinor's quote about how Willougby might soon have learnt to rank the demands of his pocketbook above those of his heart. Since this quote is given by Elinor in answer to Marianne's doubt that Willoughby was truly selfish, it is really out of place in the film. 

Also, I don't think it's just Hugh Grant's delivery that makes Edward's explanation and apology at the end fall flat. It's just... off. Like, it doesn't sound like his voice. Also, it didn't sound really apologetic, more like... "Hey, I know things didn't go so well earlier, but now that I'm free, what do you think?" which really made me hate him.

Okay, I know this was long, but I thought it would be easier to do them both in one blog post. These are my second and third completed items for the Sense and Sensibility Bicentenary Challenge.

When Editing Makes Babies Cry

Sunday I got notes back from one of my critique partners. The inline notes were minimal, but in her email, she mentioned some pacing problems she'd seen--problems I knew existed, but that I hadn't been able to fix despite trying.

The story moved too quickly from Darcy thinking about Elizabeth's words at Hunsford to her being at Pemberley. There was some reflection, but not much that showed why he might have begun to change.  This had been plaguing me for weeks, and it was the source of my problems with balancing the front and back halves of the novel as well. (Front half was about 55-58% of the story, way more than the 50% it should be.) 

I turned to another crit partner who happened to be online and asked for her thoughts, and she pinpointed one chapter that could be expanded on to show his thought process. Here's the original: 

None of these tasks, however, were capable of driving Elizabeth from his mind. When he walked the estate with his steward, he remembered Georgiana commenting that he needed a wife who could walk with him, and he thought again of Elizabeth and the walks they had shared in Kent. When he visited a tenant and awkwardly held the baby he was handed, he thought how much more comfortable he would have been with Elizabeth by his side.

It's not bad, but there's not much detail. The question became, "How can I expand that into something that really shows him missing her and beginning to take her words to heart?" In the end, this is what I came up with (please be kind, this is quite rough):

Richard left the following morning for the Fitzwilliam family seat near Matlock, and Darcy, in desperate need of distraction, threw himself into the affairs of his own estate. In consequence of his lengthy absences over the last year, there were many things that have been left unattended to.

 Nothing, however, could drive Elizabeth from his mind. With every task he completed, he was conscious of how much easier or pleasanter it would have been with her by his side.

 When he walked the estate with his steward, he remembered Georgiana commenting that he needed a wife who could walk with him, and he thought again of Elizabeth and the walks they had shared in Kent. How he had looked forward then to showing her the grounds of Pemberley and his favorite walks through the park. Those spots he had loved all his life lacked luster, now that he saw them without Elizabeth.

 Not long after his return to Pemberley, one of his best tenants celebrated the birth of his first child. By rights, the mistress of the estate would visit the family—but Pemberley had no mistress.
 When Darcy appeared on the Coombs' doorstep, the man could not hide his surprise. "Mr. Darcy!"

 "Good day, Coombs. I hear your wife has provided you with a son."

 Coombs snapped his gaping mouth shut and swallowed. "Yes sir. That is… Well, yes sir. May I ask, sir, why you are here?"

 Darcy raised an eyebrow. "I should think that obvious, Coombs. I came to congratulate you."
 Coombs nodded slowly. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Would you like to come in and see James?"

 Darcy took his hat off and followed Coombs into the cottage. Mrs. Coombs smiled up at him when he entered. "Mr. Darcy, this is such a surprise!"

 He knit his brows together for a moment. Why are they both so shocked to see me pay this form of courtesy? 

Before he could think any more on the question, a babe was thrust into his arms. "This is our James—isn't he the sweetest lad you ever did see?"   

Darcy held the child six inches out from his chest, and when James yawned and stretched, he panicked. Please do not wake. But young James had not yet learnt that the master of Pemberley was always to be obeyed, and the tiny eyes opened. On beholding an unfamiliar face, the mouth opened in a wail that would have scared years off the life of a grown man, had he not known where it originated.

 Mrs. Coombs bustled over and took her child back into the comfort of her arms. "There there, Jamesey—Mama's here. You aren't afraid of Mr. Darcy, are you?"

 Darcy watched in wonder as the child immediately quieted and settled back to sleep. Never had he been more aware of his own awkwardness, or longed more for Elizabeth's ease of manner.

 The incident did not quickly leave his thoughts. Late into the evening he pondered it, always coming back to one thing: his own tenants, who knew him to be a generous landlord, had been surprised when he also showed them courtesy.

 "Your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance…" Was there truth in her words? Did he look down on those he saw as beneath him and not treat them with the same kindness he treated those of his own class?

 Darcy paced the length of his study, an empty brandy glass in his hand. How do my fellow landowners see me? Would they be likewise surprised to receive a note from me on the birth or marriage of one of their offspring? The answer came in an instant—they would not. Those common forms of politeness were de rigueur among the upper class.

 Am I then so caught up with social standing that I cannot offer simple congratulations to a family without it being a noteworthy event? Was Elizabeth right about me?

 Darcy had long acknowledged he had not the ease or openness of manner that many did, and of course he had pride in his family and his land, but he had never taken the time to consider how that was presented to others. In truth, he had never cared enough for the opinion of others to care what they thought of him, but now he wondered if it was more than how he appeared. Am I truly prideful?

 Over the next few weeks, he examined his interactions with all he met: staff, tenant, and landowner alike. What was his first response in all of these situations? Was it one of habitual pride? Did he consider himself so far above even his friends? Were Elizabeth's accusations true?

 Such self-examination is never a pleasant course of study, and therefore, Richard's return in late May was welcome for the diversion it offered. "Did you grow tired of your family so soon?" Darcy gibed when they were seated in the study.

 I had particular fun with the image of Darcy holding a squalling baby. Poor man... I do so love to torment him.

So class, what did we learn today?

1. Pay attention to your gut. I knew from the start that I needed more here, and I never did anything about it.
2. 2. Critique partners are worth their weight in gold.
3. Editing makes small children weep.

Until next time!

PS: Don't forget, my giveaway of The Annotated Pride and Prejudice is still running.

His Good Opinion can be purchased from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, Amazon UK, Amazon DE, and Amazon FR. 

Enjoying the Ride

Fall is finally here. This is my absolute favorite time of the year: everything I love most is packed into the space of about four months, starting with October and the changing leaves.

However, last week Jessica did a blog post on countdowns, and I realized exactly how much I've got going on this fall.

• Finish my final edits for His Good Opinion and send it to an editor
• Assimilate those edits and send it to a proofer
• Assimilate the proofs and format the book for sale
• November is NaNoWriMo--I'll be writing my next novel, focusing on Colonel Fitzwilliam
• I'm one of Vancouver's Municipal Liaisons for NaNo, so I'm busy planning events right now.
• Launch my book

And that doesn't even take things like the holidays and my birthday (Feb. 2) into account. When Jess said Christmas was 100 days away, I did panic for just a minute. 

Then I realized something: These are all good things! I love being an ML, even with all the extra work that goes along with it. (This year, I'm also mentoring new MLs... another thing, but it'll be fun.) I can't imagine a November without NaNoWriMo, so even though it might be crazy to write one book while publishing my first, I'm going to do it anyway. And of course, all the various bits of the publishing process will be time-consuming, but HELLO! By the end of November, I will be able to hold my book in my hands! 

So I'm going to take the advice I gave Jess. "Pretend it's a ride at Disneyland. The ride operator has buckled you in, and you just have to sit back and enjoy." 

Are you hanging on to your hats, friends? 'Cause this here is the wildest ride in the wilderness.

Darcy In My Head and a Giveaway

When I decided to write His Good Opinion, I printed a copy of Pride and Prejudice out from Project Gutenberg and sat down with a pen to make notes. I listened to the book while reading, and when the DIMH spoke up, I jotted down his thoughts. In this way, I created a sort of map of what Darcy was thinking throughout the book, and that map became the back bone of my book.

(I actually turned it into a mind map, but apparently those scare people so I won't show you that. However, you can see it here if you wish.)

However, DIMH could only explain the things that were within my scope of experience. If I didn't know what a certain phrase referred to, my own subconscious couldn't make it clear to me. That's when I had to turn to outside sources, AKA reference material.

My final pass of His Good Opinion is being made with an annotated Pride and Prejudice. I want to know what experts have said about the novel, in particular its social situations.

Since this is where I am now, I'd like to give away a copy of The Annotated Pride and Prejudice. 

To enter, simply comment on this blog post.

You can also gain additional entries by: 

• Following me via Google Friend Connect
• Following me on Twitter
• Tweeting up to once a day about the giveaway with this tweet: Want to know more about Darcy and Elizabeth? Enter to win The Annotated Pride & Prejudice from @Nancy_Kelley: http://ow.ly/6vchp 

Please add an additional comment for each entry. This giveaway is open to US/Canadian entries only, and runs through the 9/28/2011. I will then use a random number generator to select a winner, who will be announced on 9/29/2011.

Good luck!

Great Expectations

The first weekend of August, I went to the Oregon coast with my family. When we went to the beach that Saturday morning, it was grey and misty--typical for the Pacific Northwest. Since we're all born with webbing between our toes, we didn't let the damp get to us. Rain or no, the ocean was amazing as always.

As it happened, the skies parted that afternoon and we had a sunny drive down the coast to another small tourist town. We stopped along the way to enjoy the beautiful day, because we know they don't come along very often.

Later, while in a tourist shop, I entered a conversation between the clerk and some tourists. They wanted to know where a certain restaurant was, and she happened to give the wrong answer.

"Actually, that's in Newport on the historic bay front," I corrected.

"We were in Newport earlier and we didn't see it. But then, it was so busy we didn't really stop to look around."

"I'm not surprised, on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon like this."

The wife then looked at me in shock. "Really? It's a little windy, isn't it?"

"I suppose, but look at the sun! At least it's not cloudy or raining."

Her jaw literally dropped then, I kid you not. "Is it usually like that here?"

After holding in my laughter and reassuring her that yes, it does usually rain on the Oregon coast, I started thinking about expectations. The weather disappointed her because she expected sunshine, no wind, and (presumably) slightly warmer temperatures. Meanwhile, 70 and sun thrilled me enough that I'd have put up with gale force winds.

When we write, do we let our expectations get in the way of the joy we can take in the process? We expect our book to automatically be as good as one that's been edited and revised multiple times. We expect to have the same mastery of craft as someone who's been writing for years.

Let's take a step back. Are we writing? Is our story coming together in a way that at least bears a slight resemblance to our original idea? During the rough draft, that's all we can expect.

I am not for a moment saying you should settle for that in your end product. Writing, and even self-publishing, is not about slapping a cover on a shoddily written and edited manuscript and calling it a book. However, writing is a process, and you can't expect the product at the end of stage one to look like it will at the end of stage fifty. Manage your expectations, and you'll be able to enjoy each part of the writing process.

What I Blogged On My Summer Vacation

I learned something about blogging this summer, friends: The entire blogosphere goes on vacation for two months. Comments slow to a trickle, new posts are few and far between, and site traffic goes way down. On the one hand, this made it easy to keep up with everything. After all, I didn't go on vacation (sigh), so I didn't miss a thing. On the other hand, I know there are a lot of good posts out there that people might have missed.

I'm going to highlight a few of mine, and then if you wrote an awesome blog post that got lost in the summer shuffle, please post a link to it in the comment thread.

The big news of the summer was the launch of Indiejane.org. Jessica Melendez and I started this site with the vision of it becoming a home for both readers and indie authors of Jane Austen fiction. As of tomorrow, we've been up and running for two months, and things are off to a great start. We're just wrapping up our read-a-long of Sense and Sensibility, and we have a Northanger Abbey event slated for the last two weeks of October.

Indie Jane also took part in this summer's Austenesque Extravaganza, a blog event put on by Meredith of Austenesque Reviews. In our post, we announced a new project, yet again aimed at connecting authors and readers. Dear Jane will link Jane Austen fans with a pen pal for six months. Sign ups go through September 15, so if you're interested, go on over!

And finally, in my posts for the Austenesque Extravaganza, I put together a blog series called Build Your Own Austenesque Novel. I led readers through the various elements of story and plot, and ended with an encouragement to participate in National Novel Writing Month. I've since brought those five blog posts together on their own page, Build Your Own Novel.

Now it's time for the rest of the class to share. Show us your favorite blog posts of the summer!

Why Twitter Is Your Friend

Or, Why Twitter Friends Are Amazing.

I'm finally down to minor tweaks to my MS for His Good Opinion. My crit partners have the last few chapters now, and my beta readers are halfway through. Meanwhile, I'm going through, meticulously analyzing every word and style choice I've made--because of course, I want the copyeditor to receive as clean a draft as possible.

One thing I noticed recently was an over-use of italics. I use italics to indicate internal dialogue, and that will remain. However, Jane used italics frequently to indicate emphasis. While I have decided against removing every exclamation point from her dialogue, I do believe I can rid myself of most of the italics without raising a fuss.

However, the thought of scrolling through the document looking for italics made my eyes cross--and this is where Twitter comes in. Over a year ago, author Gary Corby wrote an amazingly detailed and helpful blog post on using Word's search function. You can make it do things I'd never even dreamed of!

I follow Gary on Twitter, so who else would I turn to with my question? I sent him a quick @ reply, and before the day was over, I got this answer:

Yes! In search dialog, click More--Format--Font--Italic. RT @Nancy_Kelley: Gary, is there a way to search Word for all italicized text?

Bingo!! Now I can let my computer do the eye-crossing work for me, rather than staring at the screen for hours on end.

Maybe you don't need to know everything there is to know about the find and replace feature in Word (though that is very helpful). However, in your writing you will come across things that stump you. Twitter puts you in touch with people from dozens of backgrounds who know more collectively than you could ever hope to learn in your lifetime. It's the Hive Mind, and it's one of the greatest things about Twitter.

Have you been assimilated into the Collective? What kinds of questions has Twitter or the blogosphere answered for you?

PS: If you like mysteries and Ancient Greece, I highly recommend Gary's novel, The Pericles Commission.  It's funny, the characters are well-drawn, and his attention to detail makes historical research look absolutely effortless.

Introducing Shannon Winslow, Austenesque Author

Today I invited Shannon Winslow, author of The Darcys of Pemberley, to guest blog. (See my review on Indiejane.) Please also check out her blog and follow her on Twitter--she's a great asset to our Jane Austen community.

Thank you, Nancy, for inviting me to guest blog for your readers. I love making connections with other fans of Jane Austen, and talking about how I happened to write my first novel, The Darcys of Pemberley.

I was as surprised as anyone that I should turn out to be a novelist. You see, although I’d dabbled in other creative mediums (music, art), I’d never given any serious thought to writing. Besides, I had a practical career, a house and husband to look after, and two sons to raise. I barely had time to read a book, let alone write one.

Then about eight years ago, I discovered Pride and Prejudice and simply fell in love – with the beautiful story, with Darcy and Elizabeth, with the elegant period language, and with Jane’s witty writing style. I couldn’t get enough. It became my passion – or arguably, my obsession. Still, it might easily have amounted to no more than yearly rereads of the novel and countless watchings of the ’95 film adaptation.

Undertaking a huge creative project, like writing a first novel, requires a ton of inspiration (which I had, thanks to Jane Austen), but also a major dose of motivation. I found mine in an unexpected place: in the first Pride and Prejudice sequel I stumbled upon.

I’m fascinated with the “what ifs” of life. What if this had happened instead of that? What if I had turned right instead of left at the crossroads? These questions play a significant role in my second novel, and serve as the central theme for my third (both yet to be published). They also apply to my life, and to my writing career in particular.

What if I’d resisted the impulse to buy that movie at Costco years ago, the one with Colin Firth’s handsome face on the cover? Would I have ever discovered Pride and Prejudice? I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure that if I had loved that first sequel (a book praised by many other JA fans), if it had been everything I was personally looking for, I never would have written a sequel of my own.

I wrote The Darcys of Pemberley, first and foremost, to satisfy my own longing to continue the story the way I thought Jane Austen would have done herself, to spend more time with her characters and in their world. In the process, I discovered another passion – a passion for writing that has changed my life.

A Hot Man Is Hard... To Write

Earlier this summer, I decided I needed a hashtag for His Good Opinion. I wanted something short, and that summed up the book. My amazing beta reader (and Indiejane.org cohort) Jessica Melendez suggested #hotdarcy, and after several humorous tweets with suggestions for future books (#SexyFitzwilliam and #takeitoffWentworth, collectively known as #regencystriptease), #hotdarcy stuck.

To the confusion of some readers, this is not because there are hot, steamy love scenes in my book. Rather, the comment, "OMG hot!" is one of Jess' ways to let me know I've nailed Darcy's character. Let's face it--Darcy is hot.

Later, she read another story of mine from a different fandom and commented that I like to write from the male perspective, and it's true. The question that came in the following Twitter chat was this: "How do you, as a woman, write in a man's voice?"

The answer is deceptively easy, my friends. I don't think about writing in a man's voice; I think about writing in Darcy's voice. That's the same way I can write dialogue that sounds right for any character. After all, I've never been a nervous, easily agitated woman desperate to marry her daughters off, but some of my favorite lines are ones I've given Mrs. Bennet.

Voice is not about gender, profession, age, or nationality. Voice is about character. This of course is the difficult part. When you put a character together, you do need to know their gender, profession, age, and nationality, because those things are a part of who they are. However, you have to know this person, as an individual. It's that knowing, that intimacy, that creates dialogue that sounds genuine.

Of course, some gratuitous #hotdarcy action never hurt either.