I loved reading Writing Jane Austen by Elizabeth Aston. She is one of those Austenites who writes sequels to Pride and Prejudice... something I normally roll my eyes at. But the thing is, this book is written in modern time with some of the same dry wit of Austen novels. The protagonist is a young writer who, after having some success with a novel, is commissioned to write a book based on a manuscript found of a first chapter written by Jane Austen. Does that make sense? Fun plot, lovable characters, and a few laugh-out-loud moments. Pretty much the recipe for a great read.
This book was perfect for rainy June days when Steven was out at late meetings and the kids were dozing. It made me like way depressed that I'm not British, but hey. What can you do.
I guess you can rephrase that sentence to sound more like Jane Austen? Upon reading said literature, I found myself rueing this simple truth: I am not, nor will I ever be, British. And yet I must find the courage within to live on, though I be purely and most boringly, American.