Sara Hale: Fashionista Foe

Sarah Hale, the subject of my upcoming children’s book, is credited as the very first female magazine editor in America (though she preferred the title “editress”). Her Ladies’ Magazine, founded in 1828, was dedicated to patriotism, charitable causes, and – most significantly – educational opportunities for women. The publication was an instant hit, but readers still wanted a little something more. Letters soon began trickling into the editress’ office urging Sarah to print illustrations of what the modern European ladies were wearing this season.

Sarah had not one iota of interest in the fashonable ladies of Europe. In fact, after Sarah's husband died in 1822, the editress wore nothing but black for the rest of her life.

Sarah was not amused. Here she was, trying to use her magazine to forward the fortunes of women across the nation, and her readers only wanted to look at pretty dresses. Hale resisted the requests as best she could, but an editress does have to keep her subscribers happy – if she wishes to have subscribers.

Hand-colored fashion plates began to appear in Ladies’ Magazine in 1830, but Hale wasn’t going to print this fluff without first having her say. In an editorial, Hale made clear that fashion plates had no practical purpose. Each woman should not be a slave to what others are wearing; she should choose tasteful designs that suit her body type and colors that complement her skin tone. “This may be easily accomplished,” Hale scolded, “if our countrywomen would only think for themselves. At present American ladies, as regards to the fashion of their attire, rarely think more than did the ape when he put a red cap on his head because he saw such a one worn by the sailor.”

In short, Ladies’ Magazine readers would get pictures of women dressed up only after Hale gave them all a dressing down.

Old School Ideation

I don’t use my typewriter very much, but when I do it’s because I’m desperate. The Royal is dusted off on those days I’m simply incapable of stringing words together.

Hey, it happens to everyone.

I find that bad writing – I’m talking really bad, incoherent writing – is difficult to rewrite on a computer screen. I’m not sure why, but if I were to guess, it’s because programs like Microsoft Word, with their beautiful typefaces and perfect margins, make my awful stuff look too pretty. Writing that bad doesn’t deserve to look so good.

Enter my Royal. Everything I bang out on this baby says, “Don’t worry buddy. I’m clearly a first draft. Look at this ugly typeface. Look at how the “e” doesn’t quite line up with the other letters. Don’t take me too seriously. Don’t like that last thing you wrote?  Go back and cover it with a bunch of Xs! Who cares?”

Because my typewriter produces such a sloppy product, working on it is liberating. More importantly, it keeps me working.

I am not a terribly disciplined writer; I don’t have a regular writing schedule the way many others in this field do. So when I do manage to carve out some time for personal writing, I had better write something. My typewriter helps me when I find the time but lack the skill.

Almost every session I have with the Royal produces some kernel of an idea I can later develop. But even if every word I write is garbage, my typewriter is always there to console me.“Don’t worry buddy,” it tells me. “We didn’t make much progress, but didn’t we have fun?”

And a typewriter is as portable as an iPad!

Sunday Sketches #3

Sometimes doodling can be a great way to take a break from a story without really taking a break from a story. When I’m stuck or need a little motivation, I’ll often turn away from the computer and sketch a character or a scene from the story I’m trying to tell. This helps me to keep my mind on my work while allowing me to exercise a different part of my noodle.

This little doodle was inspired by my manuscript, Rosie beneath the Clouds. Without revealing too much about the plot (as this is still a work in progress), Rosie is about a kindly guinea pig who befriends some rather unsavory characters. One such friend is a crocodile named Bob.

BFFs