I especially enjoy writing the many letters included in my novels, trying to make each one a little work of art, as Jane Austen did. (More on that topic here.) Who can forget Darcy’s 8-pager to Elizabeth after his failed proposal or Cpt. Wentworth’s iconic letter to Anne?
…You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been; weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant… (Persuasion, chapter 23)
Then yesterday, as I was forging ahead with the rewrites for my current work in progress (a fun and somewhat campy Northanger Abbey sequel entitled Murder at Northanger Abbey), I came across a letter I composed for the book months ago. Seeing it again, I thought, “Hmm. That’s not bad!” At least I know I would have been pretty excited to receive one like it from my sweetheart. So I thought you might enjoy reading it, too, as a sneak peek for the upcoming novel.
Set up: Henry Tilney wrote this letter to Catherine during the time they were separated and waiting for the general’s permission to marry. Since the action in Murder at Northanger Abbey takes place months after their eventual wedding, the letter is included in this novel as a flashback of sorts, and the narrative that introduces it is referring to that earlier time period:
The lovers thus had parted with a strong understanding between themselves but nearly despairing of the necessary change in the general’s position ever taking place. Henry had returned to Woodston to hope and to pray and to pursue improvements to his domestic situation for Catherine’s sake. Catherine remained at Fullerton to pine and to cry and to watch for the letter from Henry she felt their unofficial engagement would justify.
In the mode of the true romantic heroine, Catherine had secretly intercepted her lover’s initial correspondence, thereafter always keeping it concealed on her person and close to her heart, and faithfully reading the missive through several times a day, despite the tears of exquisite torture it invariably drew from her already red-rimmed eyes.
Fortunately, however, having committed the entire contents to memory, she soon had no need of worrying the paper parcel any further, for indeed it was at the point of falling to bits where the pages had been folded and unfolded an hundred times or more. She could instead call every touching passage to mind at will anytime she chose during those difficult months of waiting. Even now, she could still remember…
Catherine allowed her mind’s eye to travel across those long-cherished pages again, silently reciting the words once more but hearing them in Henry’s voice.
My Dearest Catherine,
May I presume to call you mine, though I cannot yet fully possess you? I dare to hope that I may, for when I look into my mind, into my heart, and into my imagination, I find you already resident there, a warm and vital part of me. In these three seats of my affection, there is no one but you, Catherine. In truth, there never was and never will be another. You have captured me altogether, and I ache with longing until our union can at last be made complete.
Do I shock you, my darling, by the force of my affection, with the strength of these sentiments? Indeed, I shock myself. You have been used to hearing only lightness and teasing from me, only joviality and laughter. That is always my preferred way. But I find that I am, after all, capable of much more serious reflections when hard pressed, as I now am by this separation. I find it is difficult to speak lightly when my heart is heavy.
And yet I do not despair at our situation. Although there currently seems no reasonable basis for hope of an early solution, I remain ever hopeful. I refuse to be reasonable if being reasonable means I must consign myself to a world where the contrariness of one stubborn gentleman should overrule all that is good, right, and fitting. If my father will be obstinate in his position, I will hold even more tenaciously to mine. I can even be patient if necessary, because I am convinced that, with right on our side, we will prevail in the end, you and I. I also believe that the reward – the deep satisfaction we may expect to find in our marriage – will be well worth waiting for. But I dare not say more on that subject here.
So I entreat you to join me in this belief, my dearest, fairest Catherine. Do let me hear from you soon to confirm your love and faithfulness, as I do now confirm mine for you. Tell me you will wait as long as it may take for our happiness to be fulfilled.
I remain ever yours, body and soul,
Henry
Catherine was glad for the relative darkness of the carriage, for she felt her cheeks grow hot at the review of these passionate sentiments… and especially with the thought of how their implied promise had been more than amply fulfilled since their marriage.

Hope you enjoyed this little taste of what’s coming this summer in Murder at Northanger Abbey! (See Work in Progress page for more info and links to two more excerpts)
What do you think? Would you be pleased receiving such a letter? Did you picture Henry Tilney as a passionate guy, a joking goofball, or can he be both?
UPDATE: Murder at Northanger Abbey is NOW AVAILABLE in paperback, Kindle, audio, and Nook!
I love movies and I love Jane Austen, so what could be better than a movie about Jane Austen?
As most of you know, I have my own theory as to the source of Jane Austen’s knowledge of romance. Although in
Let me start by wishing you all a wonderful 2020! Since all the hubbub of the holidays has at last died down, I’ve found time to get a little writing done again. I’m 200 pages into my Northanger Abbey sequel – Murder at Northanger Abbey (see
Is what Jane Austen says about the novel, here and in chapter 5 (the greatest powers of the mind displayed, thorough knowledge of human nature, lively effusions of wit, best-chosen language) her way of tooting her own horn? Sure, but it’s probably her honest opinion as well. She and her family were enthusiastic novel readers, and, according to one of her preserved letters, “not ashamed of being so.”
Several years ago, because of the above reference in
Nowadays, we have a lot to choose from, dozens of different mediums competing for our entertainment time and dollar. But I hope the novel never goes out of style (and not just because I write them). I’m sure Jane Austen would agree with me. In fact, I think I can hear her now, giving us a piece of her mind.
Who is that behind that mild mannered dental hygienist exterior? Could it be a superhero?
Winslow: Yes, they’re still around but, sorry, not much blackmail potential left. The first novel I wrote (The Darcys of Pemberley) was published in 2011. So it’s already out there for the whole world to see.
Winslow: When I find myself in between missions, I like to hole up at a deluxe log cabin deep in the country where I have a special room I euphemistically call “my studio” (translation: my eldest son’s bedroom, which I appropriated for my own use the day he left for college). There, surrounded by books and art supplies of every description, stacked an average of 18” high, I am literally immersed in creative clutter. I hide from the world (or at least from housework), I recharge my batteries, and I plot my next move.
Winslow: Holding the first physical copy of my first published novel is pretty close to the top of my list. I also love doing book club appearances, and I had a great time at the JASNA AGM last fall. But I think the best moments have come via hearing directly from readers who have taken the time to let me know how much they liked one of my books. That never gets old. It’s always amazing to learn that something I’ve created has given hours of enjoyment to a total stranger. And now that person isn’t at total stranger anymore, but someone connected to me by a shared experience.
I also want to take this chance to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and blessings on you and your family, however you celebrate the holiday season! Since this wasn’t a particularly Christmassy themed post, I want to invite you to visit a few previous posts that are:
Woohoo! It’s book launch day for Prayer and Praise: A Jane Austen Devotional!
Progress! My Cover Image Quandry – parts
Next step: I sent the winning image, along with a general idea of what I envisioned for it, to the graphic artist who creates my covers, so that he could get right to work on it. Phew! That part’s done at last! Now I could just sit back and wait to see what gorgeous design he came up with… or so I thought.















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
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.
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.












