When Heidi finished writing her novel and sent it to a publisher she had little idea that it would end up getting her a string of honorary doctorates from a dozen or so prestigious universities. She even suspected she had been nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature but it is cloaked in secrecy so one can’t be sure.
One would think with such accolades that it would have gone to her head. But no! She remained humble amidst all this adulation. Her public readings at various libraries around the country were well attended. She put such passion into speaking the written word.
People asked her constantly when was she going to write a second novel but she always answered in a vague, although kindly, manner. No second novel ever appeared during her lifetime.
Not long after her death her highly talented daughter died. She had starved to death, having been locked up in the basement for most of her life. When a finished manuscript to a novel was discovered among the daughter’s belongings it was published under her mother’s name because it was good for sales.
That’s dark, Bruce. Somewhat like the cellar, no doubt.
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There’s usually/often wine in a cellar!
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That makes it acceptable.
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Indeed!
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Do we really like the human beings behind our favorite novels, paintings, music is the question you ask in this story (and so do I, I love Picasso’s work, but he destroyed almost every woman who inspired his work).
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That is an excellent insight, Sylvie. The one that comes immediately to mind is Hans Christian Anderson who when he visited Charles Dickens ordered Dickens’ children to clean his shoes!
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There we go!
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Mommie Dearest
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You’re such a sentimental old fellow, Max.
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Yes I am…I love to lock kids in a basement.
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Don’t we all – I hope no woke reader reads this – they have no sense of irony.
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I thought about that after I hit send. They will fill the streets with outtrage.
Yea I always try to type the first thing that pops in my small brain…well this was it! This is why I can’t have nice things.
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I type out the first thing that comes into my head too! But you have had nice things – such as a beat-up Mustang, and hopefully you will one day get a Nudies suit.
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Oh that is my dream Bruce. A Nudie suit and tipping my hat to ladies. Life doesn’t get much better than that.
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Well, sales are what’s important, right?
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Apparently!
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I’m glad she stayed genteel about all of it.
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One only need look to Russia to see how to remain genteel in adversity.
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Absolutely.
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You can’t expect the publishing industry let a compelling story ruin the potential for easy sales, can you?
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The voice of experience… I’ve never had any luck with publishers!
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I’ve only ever had bad luck.
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Join the club. I was fairly hopeful the other day, and sent something off to a publisher before I had Googled it – only to discover it was a scam!
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Glad you Googled! Publishing sometimes just seems like an awful landscape of terrible people.
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This story is just something intended to be scary, where only miseries fill the life of a mother and her daughter. But in real life it happens, in some cases, more cruelly. I’d say this isn’t as scary as real life. My question is why the author chose a successful novelist to be the protogsnist. It happens to people of every status of any society.
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Thanks for your comment. The author could have chosen a person of every status in every society – but in the end every story has to be particularized. In the case of this blog, the author of the stories doesn’t have a clue how each story ends until he types out the end. In this case it started out with someone writing a novel and ended the way it did for no reason. The author however in real life does have personal experience of someone who was locked in a cellar for 7 years and raped every night.
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and even better for the publisher – seems like they may have had no royalties to pay on the new manuscript…
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That’s true!
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The psychopathic cruelty has risen your art to the next level. The sang froid of the celebrated author returns to haunt the reader by the time the story is concluded. Such mystery and intrigue and boundless tragedy spun with a few sparse words is commendable.
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Thank you, Uma, for the commandability. You raise the “cor blimey” to the level of art. (Not sure if you have the expression “cor blimey” (sort of mundane) in India?)
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I was vaguely familiar with the phrase but had to Google it anyway. Leaving the issues of etymology or phraseology aside, to my mind the appreciation of narratology seems commensurate with the effects generated by the story.
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Isn’t it lovely how success stories have dark secrets behind them. And this was DARLK! Well, it was a cellar.
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Hopefully there was some wine in the cellar!
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