Yay! I’m happy to report that the Jane Austen devotional I’ve been working on is complete! It contains 50 meditations inspired by Jane Austen’s preserved prayers, with spiritual illustrations drawn from the characters and situations in her novels. (See earlier post Life and Other Unmanageable Events for a preview of one of the segments.) As with every other book I’ve written, it was a labor of love, this time with a whole different set of interesting challenges, since it was my first non-fiction piece.
Anyway, I’ve sent the manuscript out to a few trusted beta readers for comments and corrections with an eye to a probable publishing date in September (or October at the latest). My cover designer will now begin his work (with lots of “helpful” input from me). But until the final rewrites are needed, I’m a little at my leisure. So I’ve turned my attention, with renewed enthusiasm, back to the Northanger Abbey sequel I had begun before that – working title: Murder at Northanger Abbey.
I shared a slightly steamy scene from that work-in-progress here, but the following is what I wrote recently for a “Picnics” theme post at Austen Variations.
Emma had never been to Box Hill; she wished to see what every body found so well worth seeing; and she and Mr Weston had agreed to chuse some fine morning and drive thither… and it was to be done in a quiet, unpretending, elegant way, infinitely superior to the bustle and preparation, the regular eating and drinking, and picnic parade of the Eltons and the Sucklings. (Emma, chapter 42)
In case you missed reading it there, I decided to share it here too! I’ve added this little scene to chapter one of the book, where it fits nicely as part of the snap shot of Catherine and Henry’s early wedded bliss before events lead them into danger and intrigue. So here’s another sneak peek!
The drawing room had been an instant favorite with Catherine from the occasion of her first setting eyes on it those months before. General Tilney himself had brought her to Woodston to see Henry’s home, at the time making ill-disguised allusions that it might one day be her home as well.
“Oh, what a sweet room!” she had involuntarily exclaimed to Henry upon seeing it. “But why do not you fit it up, Mr. Tilney? What a pity not to have it fitted up for use! It is the prettiest room I ever saw! If this were my house, I am sure I should never sit anywhere else!”
Such were her irrepressible sensations at the time. She remembered that Henry’s answering smile seemed to convey his amusement and pleasure at her unguarded effusions.
“I trust,” the General had said with a satisfied smile, “that it will very speedily be furnished; it waits only for a lady’s taste!”
General Tilney, of course, had shortly thereafter changed his mind, withdrawing his good opinion of her when she turned out not to be the heiress he had supposed. But as for Catherine, she had never retreated from her high opinion of the drawing room at Woodston parsonage. It was still her favorite room in the world. And though she had yet to finish properly fitting it up – there would be new paper for the walls, different curtains, and a stylish sofa had been ordered – she had temporarily installed a small table and two comfortable chairs directly facing the tall windows, where they could sit and enjoy the bucolic view in the meanwhile.
Before she could settle to her work, Catherine once again paused before those windows to consider the scene, as she had done an hundred times before. But this day she flattered herself that she was seeing with a more educated eye, as she had been recently studying some extracts from a large volume on the subject of the picturesque. And now it struck her for the first time that there was some small imperfection in the view before her. Although there were hills at the back to give depth, and a cheerful green meadow at the fore, generously embellished with wandering sheep and hedgerows, to Catherine’s newly enlightened mind, there was still something wanting.
Catherine’s knowledge of art in general was very thin, but she had learnt enough to know that every landscape should contain a point of particular interest to draw one’s eye. The sheep could not be counted on to arrange themselves just so, and besides, they were far too ordinary to serve. No, it should be something else, something less commonplace but just as serene. Then an idea struck her, and she knew at once that her instincts had been correct. It only remained for Henry to be convinced as well.
Catherine lost no time. Finding Henry in his book room, she took him by the hand and propelled him to the drawing room without bothering to answer his questions as to the cause of her obvious excitement.
“There!” she said pointing through the windows to the precise place suggested by her imagination. Henry looked, but when he failed to respond with appropriate enthusiasm, Catherine was forced to go on. “There must be a picnic to take place exactly there,” she said, “Cannot you see how charming it would look, Henry? That is the very thing to complete the picture!”
Henry laughed. “My darling girl, is this what has you so agitated – the need for a picnic? Well it is a fine day, and I have no dislike for eating out of door. We may take a picnic wherever you say, but why among the sheep, darling? Surely under one of the trees to the side of the lawn would do as well or better.”
“No, Henry, you are missing the point. It must be exactly there for the sake of correct composition. A young couple like ourselves, sitting on a blanket, is needed to add the point of particular interest and complete the view. Look again, and I am sure you will see that I am right.”
Henry obeyed but remained mystified. “I suppose you are right in thinking it would be a pretty scene, but not one that it is within our power to contrive. We are not likely to be able to convince any young couple to continually picnic there just so that we may always have the pleasure of looking at them.”
“Of course not,” Catherine said patiently. “We must do it ourselves.”
“But… I’m afraid I still do not understand, my darling. One cannot be in two places a once – here to observe the pretty scene and there to be observed…” He trailed off.
“I know that much: I am no simpleton. But once we have picnicked on that spot, I will ever after be able to see it in my mind’s eye when I look out this window. Even many years from now, when we are quite old and gray, I will picture us exactly there. Wait!” Catherine ran to the cupboard in the next room, returning with a dark blue blanket, which she handed to her husband. “Now take this and go out into the meadow. I will direct you to the correct spot from here. Meanwhile, I will have Mrs. Peabody make up a basket with a few things – just bread, wine, and cheese, perhaps. Then, when everything is ready, I will join you and we will have our picnic.”
Henry made no further protest. He took the blanket and set off out the door, across the lawn, and down the lane to where there was a stile to give access to the meadow beyond. Every few minutes he looked back, waved, and looked for Catherine’s direction for where to proceed. Soon enough, she joined him and they shared the modest repast together there, talking and laughing, and then lying back on the blanket, holding hands and gazing deep into the clear blue sky.
Although Henry Tilney had gone along with the plan simply to humor his wife, he ended by thinking her idea a very wise one indeed. Not only had he enjoyed himself immensely, which did not surprise him. He also was to discover how right Catherine had been. For never again would he look out the drawing room windows without picturing their lovely picnic exactly there, as she had said.
I hope you enjoyed this playful look at the young married couple and the way they interact. Stay tuned for further updates on this and other projects!
As most of you know, writing “missing scenes” is a particular passion of mine. Although, the scene I’m going to share with you today – what takes place when Mr. Darcy first comes to Hunsford – is not so much “missing” from P&P as “expanded” and written from a different perspective: Charlotte’s. It actually appears in The Ladies of Rosings Park. Hope you enjoy it!
Since a suspicion of Mr. Darcy’s being partial to my pretty friend had already been awakened within me, I was on alert for any confirming signs. He barely spoke, however, to Lizzy or to anybody else. He sat composedly but silently, allowing Colonel Fitzwilliam to bear the weight of the conversation. The only sign that I might not have been entirely wrong was that I noticed Mr. Darcy’s gaze, if little discourse, was very often directed at Elizabeth.
The not-so-good news is that the story about the car (see
In much the same way, when a group of friends decided to take one last walk on the Cobb at Lyme, they had no suspicion that one of them would barely make it back alive. And when a lovely young woman set out one day for a rather wet ramble over the grounds of the Cleveland estate, she had no idea it would result in a violent fever that would pursue her to the brink of death.
Marianne Dashwood (just like Louisa Musgrove in Persuasion) was profoundly changed by her close call. As it says in the final chapter, She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her conduct, her most favourite maxims. She lived to make a far wiser choice for herself, too, in Colonel Brandon.
I wrote this fun mash-up a couple of years ago for our March Madness theme on Austen Variations, but I haven’t shared it here before. This is what happened when I collected a bunch of Jane Austen’s villains in one place at the same time. What could possibly go wrong?
Finally Mr. Collins, who had vociferously volunteered his services to facilitate the meeting, rushed in and loudly cleared his throat to get their attention.
Perhaps it was the slight bow he added to his introduction or the extra flourish of his arm gesture. In any case, this time the great lady did appear as bidden. Light applause broke out but was quickly silenced by Lady Catherine’s cutting glare.
Looking up from studying her assignment, she said, “I don’t mind stirring up trouble. In fact, I’m sure I shall enjoy it immensely. But I cannot be expected to go so far as actually marrying one of these silly Ferrars brothers. What if I don’t like the looks of them, or the wrong one ends up with the money? It would be throwing myself away completely!”
“What about seduction?” asked Wickham, standing and raising his voice to be heard above the growing disturbance. “Is that allowed or is it considered ‘bodily harm’?”
“And another thing,” he said to the group at large. “I don’t much care for these veiled threats of banishment if any of us should fail. As far as I can see, Lady Catherine has not succeeded in stamping out the threat of true love either, except perhaps in her poor, unfortunate daughter. Now there is a young lady I should like to see benefited by a little male companionship, if you know what I mean!”
PS – In case you haven’t heard, I’ve started posting chapters of The Persuasion of Miss Jane Austen every Friday at Austen Variations. So you can now read it for free! To get started, follow this
Confession. I just finished reading one of my own books: Return to Longbourn… again.
Since I was reading on my Kindle, I periodically came across an underlined “popular highlight.” Are you familiar with this feature? It shows which lines in a book have been highlighted most by readers. It’s designed to be of interest to readers, but it’s tremendous fun for authors too. It’s so interesting (and gratifying) to see which things I’ve written have been marked, indicating that people especially loved or valued them.
Since everybody seemed to appreciate 
Christmas is coming! Notice that I didn’t say Christmas is here, because technically this is Advent – a time of waiting and preparation in anticipation of the day of Jesus’ birth.
I will leave you with an adapted version of a Christmas sentiment Miss Bingley wrote in a letter to Jane Bennet. My best wishes that you would have a wonderful Christmas (or whatever tradition you celebrate this time of year) are truly sincere, unlike Miss Bingley’s. Please fill in the blanks as you choose. (Since you may be planning to spend Christmas somewhere other than Hertfordshire, and you may be wishing for something other than numerous beaux! Or maybe not?)
This passage from Pride and Prejudice (chapter 26) talks about how Elizabeth’s relationship with Charlotte changed after Charlotte married Mr. Collins. It was the inspiration for a “missing scene” I wrote a few years ago for another blog. When I ran across it again today, it made me chuckle, so I decided to share it with you here. Hope you enjoy it!



I even had in mind that perhaps Austen herself might have crossed the same bridge on one of her visits to London. Alas, this could not be true, I learned, since the bridge wasn’t constructed until several years after her death. Still it was well worth seeing.
In any case, I’m glad we made the trip to Las Vegas and beyond, but I’m also glad to be home again.
I have always been curious about Jane Austen’s spiritual side. We know she was raised in a Christian home, the daughter of a (by all accounts) dedicated Anglican minister, as well as having a brother (and later a second) belonging to the profession. She no doubt attended church nearly every Sunday of her life. Still, that didn’t prove sincere faith then anymore than it does now.
However, I think it would be a mistake to conclude from this that Jane Austen didn’t take her faith seriously. Being a Christian doesn’t mean having no sense of humor, and not every pastor is a shining example, especially in Jane Austen’s day, when many went into the profession for the wrong reasons – as a convenient means of making a genteel living rather than in answer to a true calling from God.
Here and there in Austen’s novels, however, we do catch a glimpse of something that might be construed as a reflection of Austen’s personal faith. We notice the “God bless you” at the close of Darcy’s letter to Elizabeth, for example, and the many occasions where God’s name is invoked in crisis or in thanksgiving. But perhaps the clearest example appears in Mansfield Park. There, Austen uses Mary Crawford’s attitude toward elements of faith as one means of revealing that lady’s faulty character. Mary openly ridicules the practice of family prayers, chapel attendance, and the clerical profession as a whole. By contrast, Austen’s heroine Fanny Price is reverent, honorable, and chaste – a much better candidate for an Austen-style heroine and a better choice of partner for future clergyman Edmund.













