i spent all day making up names of country houses. because that's what i do now.
So, as you may have noticed, I have been pretty much bereft of writerly inspiration for the last few years months. It's frustrating, because while I have been slogging away at a (very) long-term WIP, I just haven't been able to hook into a new idea long enough to get anything else onto the page. And then after a Christmas-long Austen reading/watching marathon, this happened:
My dear sister, the letter began,
I have conferred again with my husband on your situation, and we are now in agreement: you must quit London at once and come to us in Bookham.
You will resist, Joanna, and claim that you do not wish to burden our household with another ‘useless relation’, but I know perfectly well that it is your own independence that concerns you, not our finances. And while it is true that Bookham and Ormond Park will seem dull and provincial after the excitements of your travels, you must not forget that it was these same travels that so ruined your health and left you nearly penniless. There will be little danger of such excitements in Bookham, that I can promise you: indeed, at Ormond Park there is little danger of any excitement at all.
My husband, reading over my shoulder, has asked me to clarify that my last words were not meant to be read in an ironical tone. He would also like me to tell you that, for those with respectable interests, there is no shortage of diversions in the country.
And yes, the emphasis noted above is his own - he was quite insistent on the depth and length of the line to be drawn. Now that he has left the room, I can assure you, dear Joanna, that my husband is quite as proud and ridiculous a man as you remember him. When you join me at Ormond Park we will laugh at him together, and will both be the better for it.
You will also remember Mr Stamford, I am certain, who shewed you such particular attention when Mr Anderson and I were first married and installed in Ormond Park. Well, he is now Dr Stamford, and as he is already set to travel to London on the first of the month to collect an ailing patient, he has offered to escort you as well! I have given him your address, disreputable as it is, and you are to expect him at one o’clock in the afternoon. If you do not present yourself at that time, I have given him permission to set the dogs on you. Sweet, gentle-natured man that he is, he believes I am in jest.
I will see you soon, Joanna Watson, whether you wish me to or not. Until then, be well - and for the Good Lord’s sake, stay out of trouble.
Your beloved sister,
Mrs Harriet Anderson
20th April, 1813
Yeah, that's the opening of a Jane Austen-inspired Sherlock AU starring a genderswapped John Watson. Because that's how my mind works now.
YOU GUYS. TAKE PITY ON MY POOR NERVES.
My dear sister, the letter began,
I have conferred again with my husband on your situation, and we are now in agreement: you must quit London at once and come to us in Bookham.
You will resist, Joanna, and claim that you do not wish to burden our household with another ‘useless relation’, but I know perfectly well that it is your own independence that concerns you, not our finances. And while it is true that Bookham and Ormond Park will seem dull and provincial after the excitements of your travels, you must not forget that it was these same travels that so ruined your health and left you nearly penniless. There will be little danger of such excitements in Bookham, that I can promise you: indeed, at Ormond Park there is little danger of any excitement at all.
My husband, reading over my shoulder, has asked me to clarify that my last words were not meant to be read in an ironical tone. He would also like me to tell you that, for those with respectable interests, there is no shortage of diversions in the country.
And yes, the emphasis noted above is his own - he was quite insistent on the depth and length of the line to be drawn. Now that he has left the room, I can assure you, dear Joanna, that my husband is quite as proud and ridiculous a man as you remember him. When you join me at Ormond Park we will laugh at him together, and will both be the better for it.
You will also remember Mr Stamford, I am certain, who shewed you such particular attention when Mr Anderson and I were first married and installed in Ormond Park. Well, he is now Dr Stamford, and as he is already set to travel to London on the first of the month to collect an ailing patient, he has offered to escort you as well! I have given him your address, disreputable as it is, and you are to expect him at one o’clock in the afternoon. If you do not present yourself at that time, I have given him permission to set the dogs on you. Sweet, gentle-natured man that he is, he believes I am in jest.
I will see you soon, Joanna Watson, whether you wish me to or not. Until then, be well - and for the Good Lord’s sake, stay out of trouble.
Your beloved sister,
Mrs Harriet Anderson
20th April, 1813
Yeah, that's the opening of a Jane Austen-inspired Sherlock AU starring a genderswapped John Watson. Because that's how my mind works now.
YOU GUYS. TAKE PITY ON MY POOR NERVES.