Remastering My Austenesque Life
Updating my backlist
I am a fan of Pandora, the streaming music channel. Using Bluetooth, I listen to various media from my iPhone through my Tivoli Audio Model One.
My listening biases are not the subject of this column. Instead, I take my inspiration from what some of my favorite artists have been doing with their oeuvre. Of note is the American rock group Fleetwood Mac. Between 2010 and 2017, FM remastered its entire catalog, returning to the original acetates and remixing and refining them using the latest audio technology.
Some may argue that the original recordings—warts and all—are the most authentic. There is a great degree of truth there. These were the pinnacle for some fifty years (now that’s frightening). However, I believe Nick Fleetwood, Stevie Nicks, and Christie McVeigh used new tech to bring the music closer to their visions in the 1970s. They could only come so close with the technology available (imagine if the Beatles could have used a 64-track mixer instead of 4). They took really, really good and made it great.
For me, though, the remastering process reflects not new technology but what I have learned since I began writing fiction in 2015.
This began because I wished to return to my earlier path as an independently-published author. I asked for a cancellation of my contracts, and the organization agreed. There were caveats; I could neither use the edited versions published under their marque nor the cover art.
That forced a revisit of the original manuscripts and concepts for the books themselves. It also allowed me to reassume my catalog’s marketing control and turn to an expert in the field (I did not ask to use their name, so I won’t) for advanced search terms and links designed to optimize exposure. While Search Engine Optimization is a term with which I am familiar (my son is in that business), it is nothing I could remotely profess to understand.
My first foray into remastering has been my experimental work Lessers and Betters. The book is paired novellas—not merged—that consider the same event from two perspectives: that of the gentry—the betters—and of the servants—the lessers.
Remastered front cover of Lessers and Betters (2023)
The first novella, Of Fortune’s Reversal, considers Kitty Bennet’s story if Mr. Bennet had died before the Netherfield Ball. OFR speaks with the gentry’s voice. We are all familiar with the gentry’s point of view. After all, that is how Austen wrote!
However, except for Jo Baker’s Longbourn, we have not read anything in Austenesque literature revolving around the servants. The Maid and the Footman offers a second love story—that of Annie Reynolds (yes, Mrs. Reynolds’s niece) and Henry Wilson—clarified by the events in Hyde Park.
The Maid and the Footman speaks from the subaltern’s perspective. Subaltern history—that of sergeants and not generals—is a method we historians have used to recapture the hidden discourse of the general population ignored by those who could write and read.
Lessers and Betters grew from my desire to consider the same story twice. Those were written as separate novellas in 2016 and linked under one cover in 2018. We writers tend to set aside a work when it is published. Oh, we do fix—thanks to the ease of Kindle Direct Publishing—errors that otherwise would have been left for erstwhile readers to uncover and note in reviews. This was the fate of my final self-published version of Lessers and Betters. Except for formatting, only minor editorial cleanup improved the second edition upon its release in 2021.
Original front cover of Lessers and Betters (2018-23)
With my backlist under my control, I can use freshly informed eyes to reconsider my works published before The Sailor’s Rest. As has the genre, my writing has matured over the past five years. And that is where remastering has made a difference and, I hope, a better book.
Confession time: I can be wordy. Friends have noted that I frequently eschew a twelve-word sentence in favor of a thirty-two-word one with every possible punctuation mark employed. Oh, and I often describe every action.
1. Darcy stood and walked across the room to open the door.
2. Darcy stood and opened the door.
All that matters is what is beyond the door. How Darcy got to the door is of less concern. Now if Darcy had tripped on the edge of the carpet, thus allowing us to wonder if he was foxed, its inclusion would have been appropriate.
3. Darcy stood unsteadily and stumbled on the edge of the fine Berber as he crossed the chamber to the door.
Yes, I added words in version 3 that could add context to Darcy’s state of mind. However, I commend the second to you. Take out those five words—and their solitary brothers and sisters— one hundred times across an 87,000-word effort, and you end up with an 85,00-word novel.
Such was my experience with Lessers and Betters. Now, I readily admit that I use Grammarly to augment my reading of my work. The software points out possibilities that I can accept or reject. Across the Lessers and Betters manuscripts, Grammarly identified about 3,500 spots where the book might be streamlined and cleaned up.
All-in-all, the remastering process has delivered a more robust, faster-moving book. I hope you will concur.
Over the next several months, I will re-release remastered editions of all eight Bennet Wardrobe books, In Plain Sight and The Longburn Quarantine. This has necessarily delayed upcoming new releases, although I expect to offer a collection of Christmas stories and the Spanish version of The Sailor’s Rest.
Amazon link to Lessers and Betters (kindle, KindleUnlimited, paperback): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C7N6VGLY/ref=sr_1_52?crid=91O52TNP6F44&keywords=pride+and+prejudice+variations+colonel+fitzwilliam+kitty+bennet&qid=1686413685&sprefix=pride+and+prejudice+variations+colonel+fitzwilliam+kitty+bennet%2Caps%2C123&sr=8-52
Also available at Audible.
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Please enjoy this excerpt from the 2023 Remastered Edition of Lessers and Betters. Of Fortune’s Reversal is ©2016 by Donald P. Jacobson. Reproduction in any form is prohibited.
Chapter 10 (Of Fortune’s Reversal)
As Wilson closed the door and resumed his post, Fitzwilliam settled back into his chair. Sitting at his left hand so she could observe him and talk without uncomfortably twisting her head, Kitty threw a smile his way. She thought, L’audace, audace. Toujours l’audace.[i]
“So, General, you require a new sash? Is the old one too well-worn? Or is there another reason you might wish for a green velvet and black satin accent?”
Fitzwilliam blazed a brilliant smirk at the shot across his bow. “Ah, Miss Bennet, my cousin’s tailor has schooled me that a gentleman should only wear bright colors to coordinate with a specific theme, say a Christmas fete or his lady’s gown.”
Kitty replied teasingly, “Thus, we can be comforted that you are not a dandy. Is it your assertion that you want a seven-year-old to bedazzle enough green velvet to support your dress sword because you will be celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior?”
“Well, it might be that I wished to be properly attired to match my partner in that first set at the Twelfth Night ball,” the soldier stated.
“That has a greater ring of truth to it. Now, which young lady of our acquaintance might have equipage that would match?” Kitty played back, dangling her patch in her free hand and dropping the metaphorical ball just over the net, nearly out of Richard’s reach. “Might I trouble you for a fresh cup? I fear this one has gotten cold.”
A full thirty seconds later, Richard had to be stirred from his astonished reverie by Kitty reaching down to the side table and rattling her cup. He apologized for woolgathering and then set about making a fresh brew.
What is she about? That was almost as subtle as an Old Guard infantry column! She all but handed me her dance card.
I have been such a dunderhead. She has feelings for me. I never believed that a woman like her, so young and energetic, would find me—an old man, nearly—to be to her taste. I have fifteen years on her! Yet, I have been acting like a stripling boy in his first pair of pantaloons—hanging about her like a mooncalf.
I have not been treating her as a woman. I have acted like she is some broken vessel. If anything, a woman like Miss Bennet would resent mollycoddling.
Miss Bennet is a full-grown lady of twenty-one. She needs to be wooed and loved by a man who appreciates her for the striking woman she is! If any woman could be a Corinthian, it is she!
She is sophisticated and cultured if that innuendo is any indication! How else could she tell me she was interested in pursuing a relationship? There is no way she would throw herself forward like so many of the wives and widows of the ton. She would not rub her bodice on my arm. Neither would she simper nor fawn. She would rather race me across a field at full gallop to see who would get to the stile first.
I have missed every signal she has sent these past two weeks!
No more.
Richard finished his preparations, carefully pouring milk into the cup before straining the tea. One lump of sugar completed his efforts. Placing the cup within Kitty’s reach, Richard cleared his throat and firmly ordered Wilson to the kitchen for a fresh pot of water. Then he regarded Annie and offered that Miss Bennet appeared chilled and required a shawl. That emptied the room of chaperones for a moment.
Richard focused his steel-gray eyes on Kitty. “Miss Bennet: Just what are you about? Are you offering a drowning man a rope to shore? Do I have cause for hope?
“I must tell you now that you have bewitched me as no other woman has.
“I never thought you would see me as more than one of Cecil’s kinder but older friends. I feared you would see me as too elderly to understand a young woman’s tender dreams.
“However, these past few moments have opened my eyes. I must know the truth of where we stand, and so I shall be direct with you. Do you welcome my company? I must think so. Do you wish to learn whether we might have a future? I believe that must be the case. Correct me if I have read anything amiss, and I shall never mention it again.
“Waterloo or Vitoria is nothing compared to being on the Field of Venus. I stand before you alone and defenseless, waiting to be slain by either your ‘Yes’ or your ‘No.’ My heart is in your hands.”
Kitty looked down at her lap, thrilled but saddened. “Oh, General: I would answer all your questions with “Yes” but for the great barriers between us.
“Age means nothing if the heart is engaged. I know myself enough to be aware that the prancing preeners fresh out of Oxbridge are not mature enough to capture my heart. I need a man who cannot be intimidated by me.”[ii]
Her voice dropped to a whisper that Richard strained to hear. “And, I fear that man is you. These past weeks have taught me more about love than my previous twenty-one years.
“You, General, have done more to cure me—both of these recent injuries and my ancient silliness—than anyone—not Lydia or Lady Mary. Even Margaret’s hugs pale next to your quiet strength.
“When I was unconscious, I knew you were there. I could sense you. I needed you to be there. And, even if you were not in the room, my soul searched until it found you, usually in that chair in the hall—the one that nobody thinks I know about.”
She paused before continuing in a firmer, if bleaker, tone. “However, you are an earl’s son. My late father was a gentleman, to be sure, but one of small station and far beneath your family’s circle. I have no fortune, and you, being a second son, must court and marry an heiress…”
“Stop there, Miss Bennet. That may have been my situation a year ago. However, the government awarded me £50,000 after Waterloo. I can afford to marry for love. Thus, I do not have to seek out some spavined old widow, long on purse if short on remaining years and personality,” Richard stated with no little humor.
Kitty’s smile further warmed him. “You are such a romantic. I accept that you can cast a wider net for a marriage partner. You can also afford to find the most beautiful debutante of the Season. But, as we are alone, you can be sincere, and I beg you, do not spare my feelings. Why me?
“My accomplishments are few. I spent only two years at the seminary. My languages are passable, but I sing indifferently and play little. I fear that I have lost my ability to draw along with my depth perception.
“While I was once one of the Five Beautiful Bennet Sisters, I was never as stunning as Jane or Lydia. Now I am even less so. I am missing an eye. I am bald. We have no idea how my arm will heal. Why would you be interested in undergoing the ridicule the tabbies of the ton are sure to heap upon us?”
Richard was astonished at her poor opinion of herself but buoyed by her use of ‘us.’ He shook his head. “You honestly do believe your accomplishments are modest. You could not be more mistaken.
“Your scars are badges of honor. Do you laugh at an old campaigner home without his arm? No—you do not! You celebrate his gift to the nation. You buy him a drink. You listen to his stories. Why would I ever be ashamed of a woman who sacrificed herself for a child?”
“Do you not think Lady Mary herself would have done the same?” Richard indignantly asked, outraged that she did not see the virtue in her actions.
Warming to his counterpoints, Fitzwilliam continued, “You have shown yourself a beacon for all women. You would be showered with honors and promotions if you were a man under my command.”
He continued, “I trust your doctors when they tell me that the only lasting mark will be your eye. We know your hair will grow back. I shall stand by your side and hold your injured arm if it pains you.
“I want to know what is inside of you, Miss Bennet. May I at least court you to see whether we are compatible?
“I know you are of age, but I firmly believe in keeping family united, which means becoming acquainted with your family. I know that your father has been gone for a while. To whom should I introduce myself? Your mother?”
Kitty gaped back at Richard. “Oh my: not Mama! She may be a different woman than she was before Papa died and we lost our estate, but the son of an earl courting one of her daughters still would throw her into a fit of nerves. You should speak to her brother, my Uncle Gardiner. My cousin Collins, with all his sanctimonious pomposity, would prove difficult. I would never subject you to the new master of Longbourn.”
The world that had stopped on its axis moved again as Wilson and Annie returned from their errands. The conversation, though, laid the foundation stones for what would come. All that remained was to see how quickly they would build the house.
[i] Leading French Revolution figure George Danton’s quote is often misattributed to Napoleon Bonaparte. Fittingly accessed on July 14, 2016 from https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Georges_Danton
[ii] Term coined by Virginia Woolf to describe Great Britain’s gateways to institutional power—Oxford and Cambridge Universities—in A Room of One’s Own (1929).
I loved the excerpt, especially the conversation between Richard and Catherine.