Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1885-03-08

Che greatest pgnbsr, RI s.s sIi.il,lt,
~ And ct last We. have ascenaed II the 'irst
4 iAoors my hostess and MYSELF ffasersiHg an
old wainscoted staircase and landing and
sitting down in large, square room, With
ansoutlook upon q long, trim George /
4 garden. ssfE,s5 fszEsa . iiIss sse9s54 a71s
"This is my workshop" she saye;. !.the
USUAL sort of thing, l suppose: lots Of books
Of reference, somewhat disorderly desk.
This block Of shelves is full Of French
works. bought, by the way almost the
whole of Ton Tackcry's French library.
Here is an American LIGHT edition of Denis,
with green cover Of the original monthly
part of 'Pickwick.' Here are Scott, George
Eliot, Lamb, Stsel, host Of old comedies,
the customary dictionaries and so on
We walk about the room as she talks and
/ note the thorough business like character
of the place-plain, solid book shelves,
desk that might have been made for mer.
chants off ce, chairs for ease and chairs for
work, no Piano and no guitar, workshop,
ard at the same time comfortable room,
and with bright, cheerful FIRE burning on
bright, cheerful hearth.
These are very commonplace books
says my hostess, taking from shelf one Of
several small volumes. Il don't do any
thing in this way as Systematically as our
friend Sala, nor on the elaborate plan OF
poor Charles Reade."
| She handed me volume. 1t was full Of
carefully written extracts from books and
newspapers.
Anything that strikes me very much
during my reading l p-esery re in this way"
Now tell me-" / say as we sit dom
by the fire, something about your work
ing day."
MY idea of perfect and pleasant day"
she says SIS to devote the whole of it to
writing and reading; when l say the whole
OF it, mean from breakfast at l0,say until
dinner at 7, with intervals of strong tea,
and sometimes a little luncheon. can do
this four days during the week and enjoy
it, and get through lot of work, if have
the other two for riding, and more especially
for hunting"
"And your reading2 Who are your IA
vorite authors, as the new inquistorial autc-
graph hooks put itT'
well, ! mast confess that | have read
very few of my contemporary novelists;
think | have read more French stories than
English. ! have read and am fond of
} George Eliot, Rhoda Broughton, Wilkie
| Collins, of course and know my Tnack.
cry, my Dickens and my Scott. | always
cay that l owe Lady Audleys Secret to
| The Woman in White Wilkie Collins is
assure6ly my literary father. My admira-
ton for The Woman in White inspired me
with the idea of Lady Audley as novel
of const. lotion and character. Previously
my efforts had been in the didactic direction
OF Bulwer, long conversations, great deal
of sentiment, you know what | mean.
suppose every young writer starts with an
ideal author; Bulwer was mine and the late
Lord Lytton took great interest 10 my work.
He undertook to correct and criticise my
first story, and he and his son, the present
Lord Lyttop, have written very many charm
ing and valuable letters. The late Earl
Wlote me long criticisms of almost every
book wrote, not mere complimentary let
tiers, but fault. fnding letters, pointing out
where he thought was wrong, ard being
very generous, of course, with what he
bought were good points in my work. !
dedicated Lady Audley' to him. He was
the first author Of note to give me any real
encouragement think | have no hest
fancy in saying that all around Dickens has
| given me more pleasure than any o;her
writer Charles Reade | admired greatly,
| both as a man and an author. | think he
was one of the most powerful of our English
writer's, and what world Of tenderness Of
thought he brought into his work!
Her face beams as animated when talk
ING Of Reade as it had previously when she
was talking O. hunting.
II read a great deal at our house in the
Forest. Charles Lamb is one of my great
favorites, Steele another, and neve tire Of
DeQuipcey, or, to 90 in quite another direc.
| ton, of Daudet, Balzac and Victor Hugo"
III see you have Mana among your
French books. What do you think of
ZolaY'
| That he IS verJ clever, not immoral, as
some people think, but that he is horrible
and maudlin in his new departure Of 80
| called realism. 1t can not be, regarded as
immoral when the vices OF humanity are
exposed in their most revolving details;
neither ia it art, think, and 1t is cert9inly
most unpleasant reading
=.
Now let Us talk about the method of
story telling. l remember many years ago
discussing this subject with Mrs. Henry
Wood. She told me her system Of begin
ming and working out story was of the
mort me.hodlcal character. First she
sketched her plot, then she elaborated it and
set forth her characters, then she divided 1t
into three parts for three volumes; then she
! divided up her volumes into chapters and
| allotted each chapter its incidents; 30 that
| finally she sat down to work knowing ex-
| actly what she had to do, how much for
each chapter and so on without any particu-
ar mental strain. think Trollope worked
very much in the same way. Now, low do
,oa begin and how do you 6niSh?-tell me
as if were the same interviewer under edI-
orial instructions we talked OF at the out
set.
every well, then" she said, clasping her
hands and looking into the fire. 81 am not
as syste matte as Mrs. Wood, nor can write
exactly to measure, as Trollope did. Some
times hen get special order, as / donow
and then from the newspapers or maya
zine, l find myself literally without an idea
in my head. My mind is a blank, quite
empty, as one may say. Then all Of sud
den and unexpectedly an idea comes, the
germ of story. For example, Henry
Dunbar l thought of that story as / was
driving into the city one day to meet my
husband-thought of it in the street in a
cab-but the germ Of it had been probably
already in my mind, suggested by a
police case l had read in the memoirs
of a French detective Have you
read Carpenters physiology Well, he eE-
plalns how the brain works on its own &C.
count; how 1t has q sort of double action,
and will, as it we're, debate and work out
theme while we are unconscious, so to
sneak, of its operations. l am sure / have
had many experiences of the truth of this