Just when one thinks it's safe to feel sorry for one self, one reads something that proves to her life is always what it has been and will continue to be. Those who have followed this blog know that I have been overdosing on Jane Austen. Recently, I have been reading "A Memoir of Jane Austen" written by her nephew, J.E. Austen-Leigh.
Last night, I came across an entry that amused me greatly. It seems her books had caught the attention of the Prince Regent, at the time, Prince Leopold, I believe. Anyway, his Librarian and Secretary contacted her and requested that her latest publication be dedicated to His Royal Highness. She agreed and the publication of Emma was 'dedicated by permission to H.R.H. Prince Regent'. But the attention didn't stop there. The Secretary, a one Mr. Clark, continued in correspondence to her to suggest writing topics--one about a clergyman, another a princely romance. She wrote back declining both suggestions feigning ignorance about the lives of both sets of people. Smart lady.
In view of these letters, I see that through the ages the lives of writers continue to be what they always have been. People casting ideas in front of writers hoping they will use their ideas and immortalize them in some way.
Ponder that til tomorrow.
Til Then~