Josie Lynn Books: Imagine the Possibilities

Author: Josie Lynn

  • Not all heroes wear capes

    Not all heroes wear capes

    I was at the mall recently and was dismayed to see that capes are in again this fall/winter. (Perhaps they were ponchos, but for the sake of my point, I’m calling them capes.) Maybe ponchos/capes have never been out, because I seem to remember having this reaction every year. Whatever the case, they were on display everywhere, and I assume people were buying them.

    Not this kind of gaucho…
    …this kind

    I kind of feel like capes are the gauchos of outerwear (gauchos, as in the half-pants, half-skirt fashion concoction that designers occasionally try to foist on unsuspecting female consumers, not gauchos as in the people…obviously).

    No offense, but I firmly believe that there is no good reason to ever wear a pair gauchos, unless you’ve taken a time machine back to the 1970s. (Excuse me, Three’s Company is calling…Janet and Chrissy want their gauchos back.)

    Back in first grade, when used to spend recess twirling on the twirling bars, gaucho-like clothes made sense. If we happend to wear a dress to school and forgot to wear shorts under our dress, our underwear would show as we twirled. This very inconvenient problem could easily have been solved with a pair of gauchos, or culotes, or a skort. When we were little kids, clothes that could pull double-duty were useful and felt cool.

    In my opinion, a cape is another such (vain) attempt to be two things at once. It seems to be trying, for some odd reason, to be a blanket and a coat at the same time. Remember the Snuggie, the blanket with sleeves? Good idea, bad idea? You be the judge.

    I remember that capes were the rage one season when I was a kid. Then they came back years ago when I was an adult and, in a mad moment of nostalgia, I bought two of them. The first one was a black knitted cape. I didn’t like it, so I wore it once and gave it away. Then, noticing that capes were still in (or so said all of the morning talk shows) I folded and bought a second cape. I wore it more than once, but I always felt deep down inside, that I looked like someone people might be tempted to call “The Blanket Lady.”

    That’s when I realized that the only time wearing a cape would make sense for me would be if I were a superhero, specifically Superman or Batman, because they wear capes and they don’t look ridiculous. Their capes have meaning (they signal to the world that they are on a mission), a purpose (they somehow help them stay airborne), and trail dramatically behind them as they sore through the sky in a heroic attempt to save humanity (in other words, they look cool). This is fine and good for the likes of Superman and Batman, but a whole slew of superheroes manage to accomplish the same thing sans cape: nurses, teachers, first responders, people who rescue animals in distress, and many of the Avengers.

    Cape or No Cape? That is the question.

    In the illustrations below, notice a few salient points.

    1. He is not Superman or Batman.
    2. He is wearing a cape.
    3. He looks silly.
    4. She is not Superman or Batman.
    5. She is not wearing a cape.
    6. She does not look silly.

    In my book, Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor, Maxwell gets schooled by her new friend, Drew, on why her fashion choice may not be the best idea.

    “Okay,” Drew was saying as they stood at the entrance to one of the department stores, “I’m desperately trying to understand the concept. So, they’re not shorts, it’s not a skirt. It’s a skort?”
    “Yes. It’s like a wraparound skirt teamed up with a pair of shorts,” Maxwell tried to explain. They were going through a checklist of clothing items that Maxwell had drawn up, line by line.
    “And why is that a good idea?”
    “Well, I don’t like pants. At all. So I mostly wear shorts. But sometimes shorts just aren’t enough. Sometimes they’re too casual,” Maxwell tried to explain. “I figure a skort is a happy medium.”
    “Between what?”
    “Casual and not-so-casual.”
    “They’re sort of like those plastic eating utensils they give you at fast food joints that are not quite spoons, not quite forks. I never could understand how those were useful, and I’m still not convinced a skort is a great wardrobe choice. Do you have a lot of these…skorts?”
    “In addition to this,” Maxwell said, tugging at the denim skort she was wearing, “I have two more. Lately, they’re all I’ve been wearing.”
    “And you’d like to buy some more?”
    “Well, yes. But I haven’t seen any in any of the stores we’ve been to so far.”
    “Hum,” Drew said. “You know, there may be a reason for that…”

    So now I’m curious…what are your feelings about hybrid clothing like gauchos, capes, and/or ponchos?

  • Bad Spellers Untie

    The first time I saw this slogan on a T-shirt in a Signals catalog (not that I’m promoting Signals…not that I’m not promoting Signals…I’m just saying), I liked it because on the spelling continuum I fall somewhere in the dead middle—not the world’s best speller, not the world’s worst speller. To put it mildly, I’m in no danger of winning any spelling bees. I’m not proud of that. Once again, I’m just saying.

    In fifth grade, I was the class champion when it came to state capitals. (I might be a little proud of that.) I was the speed locater of states on our pull-down map in the front of the classroom. But stand me up in front of people and ask me to spell out loud I’m more than likely going to choke. “I before E except after C…” Except that that’s not entirely true. So many rules, so many exceptions to the rules. Things aren’t always what they sound like. Good grief! (Or is it “greif”? Just kidding. I know!)

    Watch this hilarious clip from the Tony Awards (at least through 2:44)

    Can You Raed This?

    A long while ago, a friend sent me an e-mail that asked the question, “Can You Raed This?” and claimed that according to a “study” at “Cmabrigde Uinervtisy” it has been determined that the order of letters in a word is unimportant as long as you get the first and last letter correct. It had something to do with how we don’t look at every single letter when reading a word, but at the word as a whole.

    As an average/bad/not great speller, this notion sounded good to me. Unfortunately, it turns out that the email was spurious, untrue, an urban myth. The order of letters in a word is important after all. Too bad.

    Untie, Unite

    However, something that did give me hope was raeding, urm, reading a little book called Love and Freindship [sic], a pretty hilarious tale in which a teenage Jane Austen basically makes fun of the romantic novels that were popular in her day. The book contains misspelled words, and I find it encouraging to note that Jane wasn’t all that fastidious about the order of letters in every single little word; she was too concerned about the order of the words themselves.

    If only Jane had reminded herself that friend is spelled friend because a true friend is loyal to the end….

    The bottom line is, I love words, but I’m not a huge fan of spelling. Neither was Jane Austen. That’s what editors are for.

    Which brings me to the crux of the matter. Could it be that, as a writer, I feel that details like spelling are too nuts and bolts and get in the way of the creative flow? I hope not. Because no matter how amazing your words are, if no one can decipher them or if they have to spend too much time deciphering them, your writing is not going to bring anyone any pleasure. And while the idea of a fourteen-year-old bad speller who grew up to be Jane Austen is quaint, the idea of me sending you poorly spelled emails is not.

    Of course, as a self-published author, one must pay attention to things like spelling and such. One must grow up, just like Jane Austen went from Love and Freindship to Pride and Prejudice….

    Note: The story Love and Freindship has nothing in common with the 2016 movie Love & Friendship. That movie is based on Jane’s novel Lady Susan. In the story Love and Freindship, teenage Jane Austen writes: 

    “One fatal swoon has cost me my Life… Beware of swoons Dear Laura…. A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not faint—”

    Wise words indeed, even if some of them are spelled rather creatively.

  • Literary Allusions…Not Illusions

    I have blogged quite a bit about Pride and Prejudice for the simple reason that I happen to love Pride and Prejudice. I love the characters. I love the story. I love the writing.

    However, lest I give the impression that my obsession with appreciation of Jane Austen’s writings begins and ends with Pride and Prejudice, I would like to take this opportunity to say a few things about Northanger Abbey.

    For the longest time, I regarded Northanger Abbey as a throwaway Jane Austen novel, the one you could skip reading and simply watch the movie, if that. Perhaps this was because I saw the 1987 BBC movie first and found it dull, dreary, and dismal, giving one the impression that one was watching it on television set that was in the process of dying a slow, painful death, whether or not this was the case.

    I couldn’t get into the story. I couldn’t get behind any of the characters. I thought the whole idea was implausible and I simply didn’t care about any of it. At all.

    However, when Masterpiece Theater was rebranded as Masterpiece all of those years ago and all of the hopelessly dated 1970s and 1980s versions of Jane Austen movies (except for Pride and Prejudice) were revamped, I watched them all and, for the first time, Northanger Abbey piqued my interest. Prompting another, this time successful, attempt to read the novel.

    The curious thing, however, is how much it reminded me of my middle-grade novel, Maxwell Parker, P.I.,1 in that:

    1. The heroines are both avid readers
    2. Both heroines have overly active imaginations
    3. Both heroines have an unnatural interest in guts, gore and gruesomeness
    4. Both heroines suspect someone of an atrocity and then take steps to investigate

    My novel Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor, the sequel to Maxwell Parker, P.I., seems to be loosely based on Emma, another Jane Austen novel I came to late in my Jane Austen reading experience. Ironically enough, I started to/attempted to read Emma when I was about ten or eleven years old. I picked it up off the shelf at the library and opened up to the first chapter and read the first line: “Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.”

    Miss Austen, I regret to inform you that this first line did not speak to ten-year-old me. Bratty, over-privileged Emma Woodhouse did not seem like a kindred spirit and I had no desire to spend any time with her, so on the library shelf she remained, and I did not become an Austen fan until I was sixteen-years-old and met kindred spirit, Elizabeth Bennet, whose opening line I much preferred. No matter. I like the book now, although, like my heroine, Maxwell, I still find Emma to be “so annoying.”2

    Just for the record, neither of my two Maxwell Parker books were intended to be reimagined Jane Austen books. Any resemblance is entirely a happy coincidence. However, I am in the process of writing a third Maxwell Parker book, and which, if any, Jane Austen book will end up inspiring it is anybody’s guess right now. As they used to say, back in the days before streaming and on-demand programming, stay tuned.

    1. Maxwell Parker, P.I. was published in 2014, but it was written long before I watched the 2007 version of Northanger Abbey. ↩︎
    2. Maxwell Parker, Love Doctor, p. 262 ↩︎

     

  • Why I Like Period Pieces. Period!

    English Lit class, many moons ago. The professor has just announced that the next novel we have to read will be Pride and Prejudice (somehow it always ends up being about Jane Austen!).

    As you may imagine, his announcement met with groans, mainly from students of the male persuasion (get it? Persuasion). I, however, cheered inwardly. I loved P&P. I had read it countless times. And now I was going to get to talk about it, write about it, and get tested on it!!! Oh, life was good.

    Toward the end of the semester, my teacher made some interesting points that have stuck with me to this day, things that explained why I’d always loved books about people from yesteryear. He said something about how people don’t write in the past, they write in the present—their present, which is the time period all action takes place. We often say things like, “Time flies,” mainly because we don’t know what else to say, or “There’s never enough time,” as if it is a tangible thing that we can hold, hoard, and quantify. But does time really pass us by or do we pass through time?

    The idea of time travel has always captured my imagination, perhaps because as kid I regularly traveled through time. I read books like Little Women, and the Anne of Green Gables series. They were transportive and timely.

    Timely, in the sense that all writers write their stories in their present. Their stories are not about archaic sounding/acting people, but modern people living in modern times. By their words and actions, it may become apparent to us that they are governed by a set of mores and manners that we have perhaps outgrown. Occasionally they will mention a mode of conveyance (brougham) that differs slightly from what we’re used to, or a character will appear in a scene wearing a garment or hairstyle (pompadour, hoop skirt) that is unfamiliar to us. Yet despite these superficial differences we recognize something that transcends time or place—the human heart.

    As Sting said, “..the Russians love their children too.” Or as Jack so profoundly pointed out in a vintage Jack in the Box commercial, in Italy, it isn’t called Italian food, it’s called food.

    As a side note, some of the male students confessed that they actually liked Pride and Prejudice, much to their surprise. The lesson: don’t get hung up on differences; just give Pride & Prejudice a chance; food is food; time travel is possible (all you need is a good book).

  • Pigeonholed

    My Pandemic Project

    I have a question for you. How did you spend your time during the pandemic?

    If you’re like me, I’m sure you had lots of big plans that didn’t exactly come to fruition. I won’t take you down my list of failed endeavors (…the hiking that didn’t happen, the sourdough bread that didn’t rise…) but I did manage to do a whole lot of binge-watching (does watching Endeavour count as a successful endeavor?) and a lot of bird-watching.

    If you’re picturing me crouching in a park with a pair of binoculars, a field guide, and khakis, let me stop you right there. I did some of my best bird-watching from the driver’s seat of my car. Since so many people (at least at the start of the pandemic) were working from home, traffic on my usually insane commute was practically nonexistent, so I had a lot more time to reflect on different things as I drove to work. The things that tended to catch my eye more than anything else were the city’s pigeons.

    More than just catch my eye, though, they really captured my imagination. I thought back to a friend of mine who had moved to California from New York and used to contemptuously call them “rats with wings.” I always thought that was unfair and a little harsh. The more I watched them and thought about them, the more an idea began to reveal itself to me. Was it a Great Idea? You’ll have to ask Walter Pigeon. What I know for sure is that it became a book.

    Here’s how I describe it: Walter Pigeon is concerned about the bad rap he and his fellow pigeons have received and is determined to do something about it. A humorous and heartfelt satire about thinking outside the box.

    Here’s what other people are saying about it…

    “Clever and humorously imaginative, with embedded words of wisdom.”—Kirkus Reviews

    You can read the full review here.

    And if you care to check it out, it’s available on Amazon.

    As always, thanks for stopping by. I really do appreciate it.

  • The Enchanted April: Book Review

    The Enchanted April: Book Review

    It was winter and I was commuting to work on public transportation and my commute involved a train, a shuttle bus, the metro, and a whole lot of standing around at exposed train stations, bus stops and metro platforms. Needless to say, I was feeling forlorn, cranky, sorry for myself, cold and wet, burned out, and slightly put upon.

    So I decided to bring my unread copy of The Enchanted April, along for the ride. Why did I have an unread copy of The Enchanted April just lying around for the house? you might reasonably ask. Allow me to explain. 

    I love, love, love the 1991 movie version, which is critically acclaimed and has Joan Plowright in its cast. However, despite the fact that practically everyone loved this movie, I took a long time joining the party because (1) I was too young to appreciate it when it first came out and (2) when I finally was old enough to appreciate it, I was a bit “over” movies about Italy (having seen one too many films like Il Postino, Under the Tuscan Sun, Life is Beautiful, and Eat Pray Love.)

    One day I finally decided to rent it (I’d seen all of the other rom-coms, I guess) and, of course, I loved it. So, I ordered the book. When it arrived, I immediately opened it up to my favorite line (from the movie) where Lotty says:

    “I–I’ve done nothing but duties, things for other people, ever since I was a girl, and I don’t believe anybody loves me a bit–a bit–the be-better–and I long–oh, I long–for something else–something else–” 

    Thus, having satisfied myself that the movie was faithful to the book and having loved the movie so much I couldn’t imagine how reading the book could improve my opinion of the story, I closed the book, placed it safely in the bookcase where it stayed for the next couple of years, while I remained too busy to read it/think about it/think about reading it (I did, however re-watch the movie several times in the interim).

    Then the winter of my discontent arrived–or, at least, the winter of my horrid commute–so I read The Enchanted April.  

    I WAS ENCHANTED

    The best thing about this book is that it really is enchanted–not in the sense that it has magic or fairies or pixie dust, but in the sense that it has the very real ability to transport one to a delightful villa in Italy…in April. You feel the sunshine, you smell the wisteria, you taste the pasta. I looked forward to my commute in the cold and fog because it meant I’d get to go to San Salvatore once more. April in San Salvatore beats December in San Francisco hands down. 

    The downside (for me anyway) of seeing the movie version before reading the book is that the element of surprise is largely removed. Yet, what was surprising was Elizabeth von Arnim’s writing style. She was witty and insightful and I enjoyed her characterizations, especially of some of the characters I found to be more or less one-dimensional in the movie, Lady Caroline and Merlesh Wilkinson, for instance. 

    For those of us who, on occasion, feel burned out and put upon and need a vicarious getaway, The Enchanted April offers a welcome respite from day-to-day life. You will be transformed, much like our four heroines were transformed. It might be just the thing to beat pandemic fatigue. 

  • Everything’s coming up roses!

    Everything’s coming up roses!

    I recently heard someone (on TV) use the expression, “In the weeds,” which was an idiom I had never heard before. Based on the context, I thought I had a pretty good idea what was meant, but I decided to look it up. It got me thinking about a post I wrote ages ago about horse idioms…so I tried to compile a list of idioms that involve plants (weeds, flowers, grass, and trees)…Here’s what blossomed:

    1. In the weeds – to be so busy/behind schedule/overwhelmed that it would be impossible to catch up.
    2. Down the garden path – to mislead someone.
    3. Nip in the bud – to stop something before it has a chance to get started.
    4. Pushing up daisies – a euphemism for dead (and buried).
    5. Stop and smell the roses – take time to enjoy the simple, beautiful things.
    6. The grass is always greener in someone else’s backyard – the tendency to romanticize what we do not have.
    7. Babe in the woods – a person who is out of his/her depth.
    8. Out of the woods – to survive a dangerous or difficult situation.
    9. Cream of the crop – the best part of a group.
    10. Out on a limb – to be in a dangerous or weak position without any support.
    11. Branch out – to try something new.
    12. Beat around the bush – the opposite of getting to the point.
    13. Can’t see the forest for the trees – to be so bogged down by details, you miss the big picture.
    14. Come out smelling like a rose – to come out of a potentially bad situation unscathed (kind of like, “the proof of the pudding is in the eating”). It reminds me of one of my favorite phrases/song titles, “Everything’s coming up roses,” which I’ve adapted to “Everything’s coming up Josie!”
    15. Money doesn’t grow on trees – a reminder that money is hard to come by and once spent, it will not regenerate itself.
    16. Barking up the wrong tree – to be wrong about someone or something.
    17. Fresh as a daisy – fresh, energetic. Warning: do not use this idiom or your writing will be anything but…
    18. Gilding the lily – to decorate something that is already decorative.
    19. Make hay while the sun shines – to take advantage of favorable conditions to get a job done (in other words, “there’s no time like the present”).
    20. Make like a tree and get out of here (I mean, make like a tree and leave) – okay, so this one isn’t strictly an idiom…it’s more like a bad pun…courtesy of Biff from Back to the Future, and I think this one is pretty self-explanatory.

    Can you add any fun, colorful, flora expressions to the list? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

  • Where the Sidewalk Ends

    Where the Sidewalk Ends

    Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
    And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
    For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
    The place where the sidewalk ends.

    Shel Silverstein

    IMG_6941

    In my latest book, I’m the Greatest Star, my protagonist, Star Franklin recites the poem Where the Sidewalk Ends in front of her sixth grade class.

    This poem got me thinking about a few things. Like…what other things do children know that we adults seem to have forgotten?…which leads me to my latest blog post…

    I’ve been thinking a lot about chalkboard art because…well…it’s everywhere these days. The other day, I was reading a tutorial about how to create great chalkboard art and I learned that it’s important to “season” the chalkboard before you begin by rubbing a piece of chalk across the board and then gently erasing it. Ideally, this will leave a little bit of chalk dust behind on the surface, a faint chalky residue (and then you can go about creating your masterpiece).

    Sometimes I think we forget the beauty of something in its pristine condition. So little in today’s world is pristine anymore. Most everything is fairly used up. Everything else seems to be recycled, and if it’s not, it’s seasoned and distressed to give the appearance of not being new.

    This makes me think about childhood—a time when just about everything is new, when there is magic afoot—not the Harry Potter type of magic—but the magic of discovery. That magical time when you are finding things out for the very first time, when you are not too embarrassed or too ashamed to not know something before everyone else, and when you feel free to be yourself and have the audacity to think you’re good enough because the world of advertising hasn’t started its campaign to convince you otherwise.

    I’m talking about that early state of existence when you truly are a blank slate, before you get seasoned and distressed (being a blank slate is something chalkboard art is apparently not about).

    Thinking back to childhood made me want to try to remember some of the things children seem to know, but grownups have forgotten. So, I made a list. Oh…how I love making lists…

    1. It’s important to look down. Little things, like ants and snails and lady bugs and tiny flowers growing in the grass, are important, too. These are masterpieces in miniature, but as adults, we tend to pass over them, thinking such things are beneath our notice. Little kids are good at stooping down.
    2. It’s also important to look up. Look up, for instance, at the daytime sky. What do you see? Fluffy white sheep moving across a beautiful blue meadow. Ah, the power of seeing what’s not there. At night, it’s the Man in the Moon. He’s up there, really. I’ve seen him watching over me. It’s good to believe in something bigger than yourself. It’s good to realize you’re not the center of the universe. It’s also good to find role models. Look up to them. It’s all about elevation. If you run with turkeys, you can’t soar with eagles.
    3. Keep wonder alive. Ask things like ‘what if?’ and ‘how?’ These are powerful words that keep you from getting too comfortable with the mundane, boring, or ordinary. Sometimes it pays to color outside the lines. Open things up. Find out how they’re put together. Learn what makes them tick.
    4. Ask, “Can I play?” It’s a simple, direct question. There are no politics involved, no hidden agendas. Just a plain request that lets people know what you want and need. You might get your feelings hurt, but at least you’ll know you have them. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is more fashionable than a chip on your shoulder. Be proactive, not reactive.
    5. Sometimes the answer is no. If one group says you can’t play with them on the monkey bars, go ask the group playing four square. Maybe you’ll like that game better anyway. Rejection is not always a bad thing. Oftentimes, it’s not even personal. Maybe it’s completely random (…like only four people can play four square and you’re person number five).
    6. Sometimes the answer is yes. You’ll never know if you don’t ask. The Rolling Stones said, “You can’t always get what you want.” But sometimes you do. When you think about it, your odds are pretty even.
    7. Speaking of asking, ask the big questions because they matter. Aside from taking things apart, that’s how you find out stuff. Kids know ignorance isn’t anything akin to bliss. And by the way, ask “unqualified” questions. Don’t ask “quick questions” or apologize for “stupid questions.” When I was a kid, my father used to say, “The only stupid question is the one you didn’t ask.” So, ask away. Dr. Seuss said, “Sometimes the questions are complicated, and the answers are simple.” If you don’t ask, you won’t know.
    8. Get lost in the moment. That’s what moments are for. Stare blankly into space. Dream (dreams are good). Brainstorm (also good). Take a moment to forget about schedules, forget time. It’s arbitrary anyway and takes no prisoners as it marches along.
    9. Open your eyes, they are the windows to the soul after all. Take things in. Explore this beautiful world that we’re fortunate to live in. When you see something amazing, say, “Wow!!!”
    10. Know when it’s time to cover your eyes. The first time I saw a Jurassic Park movie in the theater, I heard a little kid in one of the rows behind me say, “Tell me when the scary part’s over.” When the scary monsters are on the screen, look away. Don’t watch train wrecks. Remember that there are some things you can’t un-see. Some things are going to give you nightmares. Every self-respecting kid knows that nightmares are not good things.

    Now it’s your turn. What are some of the things you remember that you forgot? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

  • Whatchamacallit…Part Two

    Do you know what this thing is called?

    Hint, it’s not called that thing above the 7.

    While it represents the word and, technically, it’s not called and or even the and symbol (although, you could call it that, and people would probably know exactly what you mean). This thing has an actual name. If you watch Wheel of Fortune (or if you’re one of those generally well-informed individuals) you may already know what that name is…

    Pat, I’ll take an ampersand…

    Technically, no one on Wheel of Fortune ever buys an ampersand…it’s a given.

    Now, for the second question: Do you know why it’s called ampersand?

    No, not because some printer by the name of Amper invented it (it’s not Amper’s and, although that explanation does sound plausible). And that brings us to the crux of this article.

    In fact, its name has a lot to do with how spoken words are heard and/or misheard…it’s a mondegreen.

    Say what?

    Yes, the word ampersand is a mondegreen! Here’s Merriam-Websteren’s entry for ampersand:

    noun am·per·sand \ ˈam-pər-ˌsand \ :  a character typically & standing for the word and

    Despite appearances, the history of ampersand owes nothing to amp or sand. The familiar character & derives from a symbol that was used in place of the Latin word et, which also means “and.” In the late Middle Ages, single letters used as words-words like I-were, when spelled, incorporated into a phrase that clarified that they were in fact individual words. For I the phrase was I per se, I, which in Latin means I by itself (is the word) I. In early lists of the alphabet, Z was followed by the symbol &, which was rendered & per se, and, meaning “& by itself (is the word) and.” Over the years, that phrase (which when spoken aloud was pronounced “and per se and”) was shortened by English speakers to ampersand. (https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/ampersand)

    When you think about the way modern-day school children recite the English alphabet, this makes perfect sense. Remember how you used to turn the innocent letters L-M-N-O-P into the inscrutable word elemenopea? In a similar way, over time, the slurred-together spoken phrase “and per se, and” became a word unto itself, ampersand. Aren’t words the best?

  • The Jane Austen Treatment

    The Jane Austen Treatment

    The idea: to translate Jane Austen’s comedies of manners into useful instruction in the finding and keeping of employment.

    Background: I’ve been an avid reader and/or viewer of Jane Austen novels and/or movies since I was a teenager. My first Jane Austen novel was Pride and Prejudice, read it in one setting, as I was mentally, physically, and emotionally unable to put it down.

    As a teenager/young adult, I also read a steady steam of job search articles and books about surviving job interviews. I knew all of the ins and outs, the whys and wherefores, and the dos and don’ts. I was well-schooled in the art of looking for a job. But I still dreaded interviews because I never felt prepared.

    Then one day, while waiting in my car to go into a job interview, I was mulling over the standard tips I’d gleaned over the years. They seemed cold and lifeless sitting on the page or glaring at you from the computer screen. And, as I sat in my car in the few minutes before having to go in to face the “hiring squad,” I gave those familiar tips a slight tweak—the Jane Austen treatment, if you will—and suddenly they came to life. They became useful. They became memorable. They became fun.

    And now I’m (re)sharing them with you. (Editor’s note: these articles were originally published on this blog May-October 2014)

    What’s Your Worst Quality, Mr. Bingley?

    If answering the questions “What’s your worst quality?” or “What’s your biggest weakness?” sends chills down your spine, read what Mr. Bingley did. You’ll never be stumped again. Read more here.

    darcy at desk

    Don’t Bad-Mouth Your Former Boss, Wickham

    When a potential employer asks, “Who was your worst boss?” he/she’s not inviting you to vent. Discover a better way to respond to this question by reviewing Wickham’s epic fail. Read more here.

    wickham

    Become a World-Class Networker (Like Mrs. Bennet)

    This is probably the one and only time it is okay to make Mrs. Bennet your role-model. When it came to networking, the girl had skills! Read more here.

    mrs. bennet

    Dress For Success, Elizabeth

    Miss Elizabeth Bennet may have had fine, bright eyes, but did her petticoats drenched in mud really send the right message? Read more here.

    eliza

    Tell Me About Yourself, Lady Catherine

    Learn how to deal with this ice-breaker from none other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself. Read more here.

    lady catherine

    You Can Never Be Too Thankful…Just Ask Mr. Collins

    Mr. Collins was nothing if not overflowing with gratitude. Take a page from his book (just don’t overdo it). Read more here.

    Mr. Collins

    Does anyone else find it highly ironic that a bunch of people who (with the exception of Wickham) never worked a day in their lives could instruct one about job interviews?

    Gossipgirls

    Nevertheless, this is what’s worked for me. What are some of the ways you make a boring, unpleasant task a tad more tolerable?

    And finally, do I promise this is the last time I will write about Jane Austen? I’m sorry, I cannot make that promise.

Powered by
►
Necessary cookies enable essential site features like secure log-ins and consent preference adjustments. They do not store personal data.
None
►
Functional cookies support features like content sharing on social media, collecting feedback, and enabling third-party tools.
None
►
Analytical cookies track visitor interactions, providing insights on metrics like visitor count, bounce rate, and traffic sources.
None
►
Advertisement cookies deliver personalized ads based on your previous visits and analyze the effectiveness of ad campaigns.
None
Powered by