Publishing Options for Women During Jane Austen’s Time

beautiful loser:

pretty interesting article on publishing for women back in the day

Originally posted on ReginaJeffers's Blog:

200px-cassandraausten-janeaustenc-1810_hires Novels during the early Regency were geared toward the female reader; therefore, the door opened, if only a crack, for the female writer to step through. The female writers of the time assisted Jane Austen in several ways, among them the influence on her writing and building an audience for Austen’s early works.

The early female authors faced something that Austen did not. They faced public criticism, as women of the time, especially those of genteel birth, did not seek employment of any kind. Women were not to pursue fame and a career. They were discouraged by their husbands and families from publishing their works. Austen was fortunate to have a family who encouraged her writing, but even she published anonymously. Austen’s father, the Reverend Austen, even approached a publisher for Jane when she was but two and twenty. Later, Jane’s brother acted as her representative with the publisher under…

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The story of my life?

pearlsbeforeswineI have let so much of my time get away from me (life has been busy, I’ll blog about it later) but it’s again time to get back to a schedule and start writing and publishing in a timely manner. sorry for my absence blog readers, and I hope this cartoon makes you chuckle. After all, this is the writing life isn’t it?

marching towards the light, erasure poem by Rachael Stanford (Half New Year Poetry Series)

beautiful loser:

My poem is live,check it out :)

Originally posted on Silver Birch Press:

stanford_erasure
marching towards the light
by Rachael Stanford

My dream — wearing a wedding dress
it didn’t fit, the hem was caked
with dried mud, a tattered veil

he, a dank cave,
an old fashioned white cloth
half woven

and he was staring right at me,
like I was a TV program,
he’d been waiting for.

My dream-self was slow
taking in the stalactite ceiling,
the stench of growling
bleating sounds that echo from behind
blocking the room’s only exit — a cavern
beyond.

“please I don’t have the strength,
you have to hear me!”

SOURCE:  Percy Jackson and the Olympians Book Two : The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan (Hyperion Books, 2006).

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This poem is based on a page from a Percy Jackson YA novel. In writing the poem, I wanted to retain the original feel of the page but change and tweak it to elicit…

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Ink love for your favorite book?

Buzzfeed had a fun little article about 50 amazing tatoos inspired by Children’s classics (though I would agrue that some books such as The Little Prince are better read by adults!)

I won't lie, I am now craving this.....

I won’t lie, I am now craving this…..

Most of the pieces are fairly creative and well done. And it got me thinking, do you have any literary ink? (If so please post pics below in commment section!)

Would you get a permant marking of your favorite work? Or do you think tattooing your favorite childhood work is just a bad idea?

The spastic love child of Axl Rose and Sylvia Path

tesla_meLast week was the week I said, I was going to release my E-Book. Then I ended up getting called in for an interview for teaching a playwriting class and realized that I had an erasure poem I wanted to submit and the deadline was fast approaching…

so last week was not the week.

But as Scarlett O’Hara, a heroine that I despise would say, “tomorrow is another day.”

So barring anything crazy, this week will be the week.

But back to the erasure poem, I received work yesterday that it will be included in the project (I’ll post more later.) (I also got the job teaching kids play-writing! expect a blog on that later.)

I’m super excited. This was my first attempt at an erasure poem.  Erasure poems, for those who don’t know, is  a form of found poetry or found art created by erasing words from an existing text in prose or verse and framing the result on the page as a poem.

The project is going to be available on Silver Birch Press.

I found this sort of work, freeing in its constrictions. The project had a specific constraints on the topic as well as the page number you could pick. It was a puzzle for the artistic mind!

It also helped with my writer’s block. :) I really do suggest it for people who can’t think of anything to write or who like to pretend like me that they are visual artists as well.

I think I might take a few books and just have at it. Who knows maybe I’ll come up with

 

oh the things we could have done….

oh the things we could have done, if we only took the first step.

Yet here I am, a city deer starring at the blurring headlight sun, one foot hanging, delicately balancing, refusing to take the first step.

extraordinary-girl-inspiration-life-quote-Favim.com-128258_large

I had a lot of plans this year, plans which I have absolutely sucked at. Life, my impossible high standards, and fate aside (it’s been on heck of a year emotionally), I have made inlets this year: poems and plays published, a job in teaching, another prospective job (I’ll blog about it later) in teaching play-writing to little nugs, work beginning on my graphic novel as well as my kid’s books (yay!!!!) and an ever growing blog audience (you guys rock).

…But there’s on thing I linger on…….

Releasing my ebook of plays.

It’s been available on the Nook now for a month, maybe two. Tucked away, unpublicized by my fear of something.

And the insane thing, I don’t much care how much money I make. It’s low priced, I might even put it a bit lower.

All I really want if for people to read my previously published plays and maybe, if they like them, throw up a show of their own.(Though a bit of an extra income is always nice as well.)

I need to release it and move on. I need to figure if five people buy it and read it, it was worth the effort of editing and the pain of my ego.

I think I’m going to do it this week.

Stay tuned.

When words aren’t enough…..

Note: written during the weekend of another Hallmark holiday, Father’s Day, where I find myself lost once again so I take to the paper and write something, I’ll be rewriting for the rest of my life.

Image

I found myself in the sterile room,

snow blind, a blizzard

of you.

as the doctor’s tongue snaked

charmed out symbols, I coated

myself with words: selfishness,

bravery and faith.

and the silent bargains serenade

angels, the bleat from

my lips to the eletronic  pulse

… . … . … . … .

You need a lung

but my words were dull,

unable to cut the

supple folds of my

skin. You needed

everything

 

all I could give you was a sonnet.