Tuesday, November 25, 2014

My kind of female author

In 1922, Maud Montgomery and her husband Ewan Macdonald slogged their way through a rather acrimonious law suit with a neighbour. A car accident was the instigating event, and in the midst of finishing Emily of New Moon and reading the first drafts, they dealt with the stress and strain of this lawsuit.

As always, Montgomery balanced the life of author, mother, and pastor's wife. Some days, she managed it well, and others, the frustration is evident. Some days, though, she demonstrates the diversity which makes me admire her.

On September 18, 1922, she writes:
"Today, I wrote a poem, canned six jars of tomatoes, and re-read Trilby."
She was a woman of great energy. And while she had paid help to care for her children because of her duties as pastor's wife and author, she was never afraid to get her hands dirty. For the most part, she detested many of the expectations placed on her as a writer. She enjoyed conversing with other writers, but some of the expectations took her away from things she would rather have been doing, like being with her sons or being in her beloved garden; sort of like the expectation today for writers to engage on social media in order to promote their books. Somehow, I doubt she would have been the type to take selfies and put them online.

But she had time to can tomatoes.