Last weekend in Washington, D.C., 22 Woolson scholars—or Woolites (as we call ourselves)—gathered to share their research and celebrate the Woolson Society’s twentieth anniversary. Twenty-two participants may not sound like much, but their energy and enthusiasm far exceed their numbers. As the conference organizer, I had my share of worries, but they faded in the midst of so much conviviality and strong scholarship.…
Over the past two weeks, a flurry of emails and a phone call from my editor and her assistant has signaled that the production process for my biography has begun. Incredibly, Norton had its “launch” meeting for next winter’s titles last week. It’s hard to believe that the long process has already begun, one year before the book will finally be released. Decisions…
By the time Constance Fenimore Woolson ended her life at the age of fifty-four, she complained that her entire right side was deformed from writing for nine to ten hours a day. Over the years she had learned to use a stand-up desk and write with her pen between her third and fourth fingers. And she had endured countless remedies, including electrotherapy. By…