Monica Fairview, Author

I’m “jumping on the bandwagon” and entering the discussion started by Kathleen (Leave Auntie Jane Alone) and picked up very humorously by Diana Birchell, Jane Odiwe and Helen Halstead about Jane Austen sequels and whether they should be discontinued. (I’ll give you the links at the bottom, but I don’t want you going off just yet!). Odiwe’s defence of Jane Austen sequels is so logically argued that I would want to reproduce it here, but since this is my blog and I’m planning to give you my perspective, I’ll send you her way after I’ve added my argument to hers. “Jumping on the bandwagon,” is a phrase often used when you tell someone you’re writing a Jane Austen inspired novel. The implication is, of course, that you are in it for the money or because it’s an easy way to be published or something of that sort. Which is an odd kind of logic, because it seems to me it’s a lot easier to write a novel in which you can create your own characters, you can use your own language, and you don’t h...

I'm having fun these days exploring the world of cyberspace with tweets, faces (why doesn't facebook have a verb? Facebooking? Bookfacing?), and blogs, though I admit my writing is suffering. In fact, my writing is pathetic. Still, it's lovely to be out there, meeting people with similar interests, and puzzling out the diverse and divergent remarks that you encounter. Nothing can be more different than the world of Regency England with its well regulated rules of conduct. On Seesmic, one reencounters the Tower of Babel, a chaos of words flowing through the screen as hundreds of minds share clipets of their thoughts. Yet somehow, we make sense of it all, a tribute to the power of language. It's an addiction. I will have to withdraw for a while in order to write. But meanwhile I'm delighted to be featured on not one but two Jane Austen Blogs. The first is as a guest blogger on Jane Austen Today, where I blog about Georgette Heyer's Little Sophy (??) And then the...

I often think the acid test of a film is what you remember about it the next day. The scenes that stand out in your mind are the ones that are the most powerful, usually, and the process of evaluating the film comes about when you re-evaluate those scenes and put everything together. So what do I remember most about the Harry Potter film today? Dark, tumultuous clouds, a bridge collapsing, Dumbledore’s blackened hand, Ron Weasley, Malfoy's anguish, and a dead bird. Oddly enough, when I try to remember Harry Potter himself, I remember: 1) The opening scene with the young waitress. 2) Harry taking Dumbledore's arm 3) Harry hiding under the floorboards in the tower, watching passively as a wand is lifted. Put all those ingredients together, and you've got an assorted smorgasbord of a film. Not that it wasn't enjoyable. It was. The cinematography was vivid, the special effects striking. But overall I would have to say that there was something lacking. Motivation, emotional ...

"My idea of good company," says Anne in Jane Austen's Persuasion , "is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company." Add to it, a trip to Penrith, a few well-informed lectures, and one or two roll-on-the floor funny ones (thank you, Rachel and Liz), and your cup overflows. It certainly regenerated the spirit. (I'll admit that there were overflowing spirits, too). What other group of people would, very good naturedly, consent to dress up in rubbish bags? We did, indeed. And at the other end of the spectrum, listen spellbound to Hugo Summerson, a former MP, speak of flies, cabbages and kings (well, the aristocracy, at any rate)? We looked at feet, since our smiling chairperson Katie Fforde's shoes feature in a competition, and at hands and heads (required in Liz Bailey's workshop). We were persuaded of the importance of wagon wheels and stop-watches in across-the-ocean favourite J...

I loved writing The Other Mr Darcy . You know how it is when you find yourself writing the kind of book that you'd love to read, only no one else wrote it before you? Of course, it's a bit embarassing to be chuckling at your own story as you're writing away, especially if you're in a coffee shop. I can tell you, people don't smile at you. They give you the type of glare that says clearly: "You might think there's something funny in the universe, but I don't, so if you have a joke, keep it to yourself." Of course, the real joke is, I'm not keeping it to myself, because other people are going to be reading it, too. Anyway -- The Other Mr Darcy has its funny bits and its romantic bits. You're bound to get both when you put someone like Caroline Bingley with someone like Robert Darcy, Darcy's irrepressible cousin. Here's an excerpt, then. The Other Mr Darcy Prologue Caroline Bingley sank to the floor, her silk crepe dress crumpling up ...