by Susan Adriani

Sunday was THE BIG DAY—the official release date of The Truth About Mr. Darcy (formerly titled Affinity and Affection)—only, it felt pretty much the same as any other day.

Instead of stuffing my husband and daughter into the car against their wills and dragging them from store to store to hunt down a copy of my book in the wild (like I contemplated doing), we went for ice cream at what we’ve affectionately dubbed the ‘cow ice cream place,’ where scoop upon scoop of farm-churned goodness awaited us. It’s always fresh and delicious. (The ice cream, not the cows.)

First thing Monday morning, though, I was in the car, zipping off to my favorite bookstore with a grin on my face and anticipation fluttering in my belly like a flock of butterflies—big, gauzy blue ones. (They’re always so pretty when I see them at the Botanical Garden.)

I sang along with the radio. I waved merging drivers into my lane with a smile. When I arrived at the book store, I found a fantastic parking space—Right. Out. Front. The rays of good fortune were obviously shining down on me. Everything was glorious—and why not? It was, after all, the day after my BIG DAY.

Sadly, I quickly learned my fantastic parking spot right out front was also the perfect place from which to read the many, many signs plastered on the windows, boldly announcing that the store was closing in two weeks. Because I have no sense of self-preservation, I closed my gaping mouth, climbed out of my car, and went in anyway.

Needless to say, they did not have my book on any of their shelves, which happened to be for sale at what I thought were ridiculously reasonable prices for solid oak construction. I considered buying one, but didn’t think it would actually fit in my house. (Not to mention my husband might very well do away with me—it was massive.)

After wandering aimlessly for quite some time—because the entire store was in complete chaos—I stumbled upon a lone copy of Mary Simonsen’s The Perfect Bride for Mr. Darcy for only $5.98. (!!!) C. Allyn Pierson’s Mr. Darcy’s Little Sister was there, too—and Sharon Lathan, and Abigail Reynolds, and Lynn Shepherd—each just $5.98! Things started to pick up after that, but only marginally—remember, they still didn’t have my book.

And neither did the book store in the mall, or the one 30 minutes away, or Target—and neither do I, come to think of it. I ought to—I wrote it, revised it, edited it, edited it, edited it, edited it, edited it (you get the idea), and pretty much obsessed over everything about it for a very long time. To make a long story shorter—much, much shorter—I’ll just jump to the very end and tell you that I have but one question that I’m absolutely desperate to have answered: Where in the world is Mr. Darcy? My Mr. Darcy, that is.

I suppose what it pretty much boils down to is this: after eighteen months of preparation and anticipation, my BIG DAY was painfully anti-climatic. To celebrate (because I really ought to celebrate in some manner that doesn’t include ice cream), I’ve decided to post the entirety of chapter three right here. (I’m not sure if Sourcebooks actually allows their authors to do this, but my publicist is currently on vacation, so I’m just going to go ahead and do it anyway.)

This chapter was actually my favorite chapter to write. It’s between Darcy and Bingley and no one else. I won’t say anything more, other than I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it.

Thank you so much for reading, and helping me celebrate the launch of The Truth About Mr. Darcy. Oh, and if you would be so kind as to help me find him by checking a bookstore near you, that would be really, really great!

Best,
Susan

The Truth About Mr. Darcy, Chapter Three

When Bingley arrived home that evening, Darcy was engrossed in a book in Netherfield’s library. “How was your evening, Bingley?” he asked absently as he turned a page. “I hope Mrs. Phillips’s society was to your liking.”

“An excellent question, Darcy,” he responded heatedly as he threw himself into a chair by the fire, “but perhaps you might do better to inquire after the pleasure of Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s evening, of which I can most heartily assure you there was none.”

Darcy closed his book immediately. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet? To what do you refer, Bingley?”

“I refer, Darcy, to the disturbing and insulting behavior I witnessed toward her this evening at the hands of your so-called friend George Wickham!”

Darcy’s blood ran cold. Had he heard Bingley correctly? His Elizabeth accosted by Wickham? Bingley’s expression told him all. Darcy leapt to his feet as his anger took a firm hold over his senses. “What in God’s name did he do to her? Damn it, Bingley! You must tell me you protected her! Please tell me she is unharmed!”

Darcy was incensed and, in his rashness, took several threatening steps toward Bingley, a maneuver that caused his friend to jump from his seat and retreat several paces.

Raising both hands to Darcy’s chest, he replied in earnest, “Yes, she is safe! She is safe, Darcy! Calm yourself, man! She was only in conversation with him, and not long, though I must tell you it was most distressing to watch. I believe he must have said such things to her that would never bear repeating in polite company, for she refused even to tell Jane—er, I mean Miss Bennet—what they were. At one point, she actually attempted to strike the libertine.”

Darcy looked at Bingley with incredulity. “Elizabeth struck Wickham?” His unguarded use of her Christian name was lost on his friend.

“No,” Bingley stammered. “He caught her hand before she could make contact, and that scoundrel kissed it, not at all inclined to release her, I might add. It was then when I went to her.”

Darcy raked his hands through his hair, utterly sickened by the prospect of Wickham touching any part of Elizabeth’s person. He began pacing the length of the room, praying for some modicum of control to return. “And what of her father? What of her uncle? Colonel Forster and the other officers? Did no one else do anything in her defense? Surely, you could not have been the only person to go to her aid? I find it impossible to accept an entire house full of people, including members of her own family, could be blind to such a scene!”

Bingley shook his head. “I could hardly believe it myself, but I was absolutely the only person aware of the nature of the exchange between them. Mr. Bennet was not present, her mother and sisters were engaged, and not even that half-wit of a clergyman, who has all but glued himself to her for the last five days, had any knowledge of the insult. I did happen to speak to Colonel Forster, though. He was most disturbed when I informed him of the incident and has promised most faithfully to personally look into the matter. I plan on riding to Longbourn tomorrow to speak to Mr. Bennet. I feel he should be made aware of the events that have transpired.” He hesitated a moment. “I have been thinking, Darcy, perhaps it would be best if you were to accompany me, given your past dealings with Wickham and your insight into his character. I believe Miss Elizabeth’s father has a right to know of what he is truly capable.”

Darcy strode to the window and leaned his forearm against the casement, staring out into the night. Several minutes passed in silence before he finally spoke, his voice ragged with feeling. “I should have been there with her. This never should have been allowed to happen. She would not have left my sight for a moment.”

Bingley shook his head. “Darcy, it was only by chance I caught the exchange between Miss Elizabeth and Wickham. I fail to see how you could have prevented what you may not have noticed yourself.”

It was simply too much. All the frustration he felt from his endless struggle against his overpowering feelings for Elizabeth caused Darcy to explode. “I would have been aware of it, Bingley! I, who am most excruciatingly conscious of her every movement when I am in her company! I see every smile she bestows, every expression of tenderness, every breath that fills her lungs—none of which is ever for me!” He swallowed hard and tried desperately to compose himself.

Bingley’s mouth dropped open. After a moment, he closed it and said, “I must confess I am at a loss. I had no idea you had tender feelings for Miss Elizabeth. Pray, how long have you felt this way?”

Striving to collect himself, Darcy muttered, “Forgive me. It has been so for many weeks now. I am only surprised you failed to notice it, because it was most easily discerned the other day in very little time by George Wickham.” He let his forehead rest against the glass, allowing its coolness to soothe him.

“Does Miss Elizabeth know?”

Darcy sighed. “That I am in love with her? No, and I would be most grateful if it were to remain that way.”

“But surely you mean to tell her?”

“No, Bingley, I assure you I do not.”

“But why, Darcy? Why would you endeavor to keep such extraordinary feelings hidden from her? What could ever be gained by it? Do you not think Miss Elizabeth would welcome your addresses?”

“No,” he said evenly, “she would not. She does not return my regard, and I would be lying to myself if I believed differently. Even if, by some stroke of exquisite good fortune, Miss Elizabeth were to love me, it would in no way change our circumstances. I cannot make a fortuneless country beauty the mistress of Pemberley, no matter how desperately I may desire it. Duty to my family—to my position in society—strictly forbids such a union between us.”

“Duty to your position?” Bingley cried. “Duty to your position be hanged! What about your duty to yourself, Darcy? Would it not bring you incredible joy and comfort to make Miss Elizabeth your wife and to see your children running through the halls of Pemberley? Would you not truly be content to grow old with her by your side? Do you honestly expect me to believe your family and your friends—all those who most desire to see you happy in life—would wish instead for you to spend your days alone and in misery, or worse, married to another in a loveless union, simply because the one woman you happened to fall in love with does not move in the same social circles as they do? I cannot accept it. Elizabeth Bennet is the daughter of a gentleman, and she is in every way a lady. You are equals; no one can deny that.”

Darcy turned away from the window and faced him. “But what of her mother, Bingley? What of her younger sisters, her aunts and uncles? Certainly you must recognize their behavior and low connections must materially lessen the chances of one’s marital felicity. Anyone who chooses to align themselves with such a family would be shunned in London society. Her family would never even be acknowledged, never mind accepted. I would not wish that upon Miss Elizabeth. I would not wish it upon anyone whom I hold dear.”

“And this should be of significant consequence? The insipid opinions of the London ton, whose favor and disfavor, approval and censure, are so easily bought and sold like tradeable goods? No one who conducts themselves in such a manner could ever esteem a man of your impeccable character and intellect in the first place, Darcy! And, surely, your family would not be so insensible and unfeeling as to follow their example. Would you have me act in such an irrational manner? Would you have me make myself unhappy—expect me to give up my Miss Bennet—for no better reason other than Caroline’s and Louisa’s selfish disdain for the connection?”

Darcy did not respond.

“Do you not approve of my relationship with Miss Bennet, Darcy?”

Darcy winced. He had not wanted it to come to this, especially tonight. “I am sorry, Bingley, but I cannot. You clearly do not understand the consequences and the disgrace you will suffer should you continue in your endeavor to align yourself with such a family. It would be your ruin. I cannot speak any plainer than this.”

Bingley was angry; Darcy had never seen him more so. “You are correct, Darcy, I do not understand anything of the sort! I do, however, comprehend the wretchedness Miss Bennet and I would suffer were I to allow myself to be so disgracefully persuaded from following the counsel of my own heart on such a matter! No, Darcy. That is a consequence I am most unwilling to suffer for any person, be they relation or friend, and most especially for any damned, misguided notion of duty!” He turned then and stormed from the room, leaving Darcy alone with much to consider.

The Truth About Mr. Darcy is available right now in bookstores…somewhere, I hope. In case you can’t find it either, here’s a link for Amazon:

THE TRUTH ABOUT MR. DARCY by Susan Adriani

by Vera Nazarian

Last month, I introduced many of you to the curious notion of what constitutes a better literary mash-up (part I) by way of Gilroy, California, garlic ice cream, chocolate and peanut butter, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and other improbable but somehow harmoniously combined, wildly different elements.

If you missed last month’s “foods and literature” entry, do read it first to catch up on the fun discussion. Go on, I’ll wait…

Photo by Penarc

Now, then.

We’ve established that part of the appeal of that first recent modern mash-up that started the current craze, is a funny combination of shock value, conflicting chick vs. macho entertainment, and propriety clashing with crassness—basically a slightly perverse need to “despoil.” It’s the glee that rowdy kids get from scaring the stuffy older aunt, or frat boys crashing a garden party.

And of course, this kind of thing is disdained—frequently for good reason—by the Janeite purists.

However, is that entirely fair?

Photo by André Karwath aka Aka

And here is where we come to the heart of the discussion.

I propose that what makes a good literary mash-up—or combination of different previously unrelated elements into one new greater whole—are three things:

1. The mash-up author’s ultimate intent and motive in creating the new work.
    
2. The level of respect for the original classic.
    
3. The execution.

These three elements work together to produce something that either works or doesn’t. The result can be anything, ranging from a shoddy forgettable story, or a brand new brilliant classic—and everything in between. And that’s why it is so important to have no preconceptions, but to treat each literary mash-up on its own merits. After all, each book is written (for the most part) by a different author, released by a different publisher, and may or may not be a complete dud or a hidden masterpiece.

Seriously!

You just never know until you try!

And now, let’s explore those three very important elements that work together to create a good mash-up (or not). Let’s take a closer look at each one.

Author’s Motive and Ultimate Intent 

This one is probably the most important element, because the author’s motive tells us why the book was written in the first place. And once we figure it out, we get a very solid sense of what the book is trying to tell us, and in turn, how to respond to the new story (or if we even need bother). So let’s look at some of the many possible reasons why a mash-up is written:

• To make money.
• To make the reader laugh at the silly (“stupid”) old classic.
• To make the reader laugh in camaraderie together with the author of the classic.
• To expand the good elements of the original and make them even more resonant.
• To despoil the classic entirely by stomping all over its beloved tropes.
• To shock the reader by rough unexpected juxtapositions.
• To delight with amusing and “Wow, wouldn’t that be cool?” things happening.
• To show off the new author’s cleverness and upstage the author of the classic.
• To introduce a whole new type of reader to a book they otherwise would never try.
• To challenge the reader into new ways of thinking.
• To create something altogether profound using this quirky mash-up mode.
• To get the non-reader to pick up a classic book.
• To make a fitting tribute and pay homage to a favorite classic author.

There are plenty more reasons. But isn’t this just amazing to think how much our perception of a book is changed when we figure out what the author was trying to do with it?

And the neat thing is, this analysis applies not only to mash-ups, but to any books we read. It’s just that, since mash-ups are getting a bad rep, it’s time to put this Serious Lens of Closer Scrutiny on them.

Respect for the Original Classic 

This is the second element that goes into the making of a mash-up. Depending on the mash-up author’s attitude toward the classic original, we get a book that is a mockery or a tribute, or all things in-between. The new author can:

• Respect and adore the original (work and author) to the point of high worship.
   
• Like the original well enough, but be a little tired of the classic.
   
• See quite a number of flaws in the original and just “itch” to improve upon it.
   
• Hate the classic with a passion, and want to display it in a fully negative light.
   
• Be completely indifferent about the classic—it’s just another writing job to do.
   
• Be entirely unfamiliar and ignorant of it, having never read it before.
   
• Have an opinion, but be willing to do whatever it takes to please fans or the publisher.

Again, there are plenty of other attitudes, feelings, personal preconceptions and hang-ups an author can have about the classic original. And also there is the extent to which the author may be wiling to overcome any and all of them, to make a successful project. This works in tandem with the first element (their motive), to make or break the book.

And incidentally, this analysis can also apply to all fanfic writing.

The Execution 

The third important element of this formula for mash-up success or failure, is the quality of execution. Among the things that determine the execution are:

• The quality of the writing itself. Is the new author clunky or competent?
   
• The seamlessness of style—whether the new material meshes well with the original.
   
• The amount of new material inserted—too little results in negligent change, too much, and the end product no longer resembles the original and departs from the classic.
   
• The nature of the new inserted elements. What are they? Are they chosen to be funny, wise-ass, silly, shocking, ridiculous, thought provoking, anachronistic, beautiful, romantic, heartwarming, profound? Because these elements give the new direction and color to the mash-up!
   
• The placement of the new elements into the original text. Are they too far apart, or too much all in one place? Long stretches of nothing new happening?
   
• Subtlety vs. crudeness. Face it: some things just don’t really work together. Or else you need an entirely brilliant explanation of why they do.
   
• The amount of care taken to blend all new and old elements of the story into something that makes sense, and makes a greater new and sufficiently entertaining story.
   
• A sense of humor! A mash-up does not have to be funny, but almost all are. Sure, humor is very personal, but some things are funny across the board, for very many people.
   
• A strong familiarity with, and understanding of history—the original time period, society, and mores. An author really should know what she or he is writing about! Because readers are smart and can tell when things are factually wrong!

In short, think how all these three elements work together to make a successful mash-up or a shoddy one. And considering all the intricacies at play, why not give this new genre a chance, even if you are an absolute purist!

Here is a list of some fun mash-ups for you to explore. Be ready to love or hate them! But even more, be ready to be utterly surprised…

Because you never know what kind of wonderful entertainment, joy, and insight you might be missing!

This was supposed to be my launch post for The Ballad of Gregoire Darcy, but the publishing date was pushed back to May 10th, so we rescheduled the launch party for May 19th. Turns out the book is out anyway, though I still don’t have a copy. So feel free to order it.

By Abigail Reynolds

So, who remembers marine biologist Cassie Boulton and reclusive writer Calder Westing from my book The Man Who Loved Pride & Prejudice (aka Pemberley by the Sea)? Today is a big day for them! They’ve been waiting oh-so-patiently (okay, so Calder’s been patient, Cassie – not so much, and let’s not even go into what Senator Joe Westing says about the delay!) to make a return appearance in my new novel Morning Light. It’s been an unusually long haul getting this book to see the light of day (as it were), going through multiple revisions and lots of publisher delays about do-we-or-don’t-we, but it’s finally here. Yes, my new Persuasion-inspired modern novel Morning Light is now available! Well, sort of. Like everything else about this book, the release has been complicated by various problems, so the paperback won’t be available for another couple of weeks even though the e-book is already up at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords. But hey, given that I finished writing the book in 2006, what’s another couple of weeks?

Morning Light is set in the seaside village of Woods Hole on Cape Cod about a year after the end of The Man Who Loved Pride & Prejudice. Artist Annie Wright, who runs the Cape Light Gallery, likes her life free of complications, especially complications of the male persuasion. She loves her job, her volunteer work rescuing abandoned dogs, and her good friends Cassie and Calder, and that’s enough for her. She doesn’t like to talk about her past, especially how she became a widow after just a few years of marriage. But one day her past walks right into the Cape Light Gallery in the form of her dead husband’s best friend Jeremy, the man who left the country because it was too hard to see Annie married to someone else. If this weren’t enough, Annie finds herself in charge of an abused and distrustful pile of fur called Bear, and increasingly entangled in the complicated Westing family politics.

Ten years apart hasn’t done anything to reduce the magnetic attraction between Annie and Jeremy, but there is plenty standing in their way. In Jeremy’s case, it’s the woman he was meaning to marry since he could never have Annie, and for Annie, it’s the painful memories of her marriage and the years apart from Jeremy. Then things get REALLY complicated for them, but I won’t spoil the surprise by telling you what happens. Meantime, Calder’s parents aren’t the sort to stay in the background and manage to get involved in Jeremy’s life as well, leading to an exciting climax at a gala charity event for Annie’s dog rescue organization where everything goes unexpectedly wrong for all of them. But love will save the day for all of them. It’s a happy ending all around – yes, even for Joe Westing this time. Sort of. Maybe. You’ll have to tell me what you think.

You don’t need to have read The Man Who Loved Pride & Prejudice to enjoy Morning Light. The story stands alone, but readers who loved Cassie and Calder’s story will be happy to see how their life together develops. When I started writing Morning Light, it was meant to be an updated Persuasion just as The Man Who Loved Pride & Prejudice is an updated P&P, but as I discovered there are parts of the Persuasion story that simply don’t adapt to modern times, the plot took some detours. The basic outline of lovers separated for years remains, as do the fundamentals of the main characters and the importance of patience, strength of character, and love that strengthens through separation, but some of the themes play out differently. The presence or lack of artistic talent takes the place of social class, and Annie’s struggles with her own family reflect the question of how much to allow others to influence her destiny. Morning Light follows its own modern course, but it’s truly inspired by Persuasion and Jane Austen.

I hope you join me in visiting Woods Hole and the lives of some of my favorite characters in this long-delayed release. So, which Austen book would you like to see updated next?