Jane Actually

I use? In today’s publishing world, I could not be anonymous. And yet I had no desire to use a
nom de plume
. I wanted to write again as the author of
Emma
and
Persuasion
, but no publisher or agent would have me as such, until I met Melody Kramer, my agent and now my business manager. She recognized that establishing my identity was paramount.
    VICKERY: You could have self-published. You could decide to publish as Jane Austen even without reclaiming your identity.
    AUSTEN: I was prepared to do just that, but fortunately it was not necessary. As you know,
Sense and Sensibility
was essentially self-published; I am no stranger to taking matters into my own hands.
    VICKERY: Moving on to
Sanditon
, is this another novel about nothing … or nothing more than relationships and marriage?
    AUSTEN: I very much fear most people will view it as such, although I think it quite different. In fact, Janeites have long remarked that the little of it I wrote before death seemed very different from the other novels. And my death and experiences have undoubtedly combined to produce something markedly different, even though many will undoubtedly complain it is just a book about the gentry hoping to make a suitable marriage.
    VICKERY: If I might ask a difficult question, is it hard to write of such things now that you’re …
    AUSTEN: Now that I’m dead?
    VICKERY: Yes, I mean obviously you’ve been dead some time, but … how can you … can you still feel … is it still as personal to you, the silly dramas, the misunderstood intentions, the little lies that make up romance?
    AUSTEN: Oh yes. Still very real to me.
    1 The British Library has Austen’s portable writing desk, a sloped wooden box with a hinged top, which opened to reveal paper and writing supplies. It sat on a desk that remains at the Jane Austen House and Museum (Chawton Cottage).
    2 A situation comedy, starring comedian Jerry Seinfeld, that ran on American television from 1989 to 1998. The show has been described as being about nothing.

Timing is everything
Albert’s letter arrives
    J ane paced the hotel room as she composed her thoughts. She was alone, Mary having left after the film crew to eat lunch while Melody was busy trying to arrange a flight for Tamara. That information was a surprise, for Jane had assumed the flight had already been booked.
    She was glad of her isolation. She had even forgone using the computer while trying to compose her explanation and apology to Albert. Unfortunately, she could not quite find the right words—or rather she could not avoid the temptation to excuse her conduct rather than simply and honestly accept her guilt.
    She said to her imaginary Albert: “Without my wanting it—in fact despite my efforts to the contrary—my life and reputation is more than just that of good daughter and faithful sister. But with you, I am just Jane and that is how I wanted to represent myself, without the baggage of …”
    No, I did not say baggage before. Why can I not recall what I just said moments earlier? Am I such a slave now to Google Docs that I cannot write without a crutch?
    Or is the problem that I am writing and not … feeling. Is this how people actually speak? Certainly it’s how Elizabeth and Darcy spoke, but did I ever speak in such a fashion? Do people really speak in such complete thoughts? Do I now doubt the very essence of everything I have ever written?
    I must focus. I must say this to Albert as soon as I possibly can. Why does he not respond?
    That last thought made her hurry back to the computer and check her messages and email to see whether Albert had responded. He had not replied to her earlier emails and texts, but this gave her more opportunity to rehearse …
craft
… her apology. It had now been several hours since she sent her message that she wished to chat, however, and it was not like Albert to ignore her.
    This time, however, she was rewarded by seeing Albert’s email address in her in box, but the subject line—Leaving AGM—confused her. She opened the email and the salutation alerted her that she had delayed her apology too long.
    Dear Miss Austen,
    You are no longer my Jane, it would seem, for now I know the truth of it. I saw your agent address an email to [email protected], an address familiar to me as belonging to my friend. I confess I further observed what your agent wrote and by this I know for a certainty that the woman I have known for three years as Jane really is that Jane