Authors at home: Personal and biographical sketches of well-known American writers
General
Authors at home: Personal and biographical sketches of well-known American writers
Authors, American -- Homes and haunts -- United States; Literary landmarks -- United States; United States -- Intellectual life
His walks, his naturalistic rambles, his longer boating or shooting
excursions, are the subjects of some of his most entertaining chapters;
but a not impertinent curiosity may be gratified by some account of his
everyday life when at home and at work. His literary labors are at a
standstill throughout the summer. He does not take notes. Even when he
has returned from camping out, or canoeing, or from his summer vacation
of whatever form, he does not rush at once to pen and paper. He waits
till the spirit moves him, which it usually begins to do a little
after the first frosts. He rises early--between five and six o’clock;
breakfasts, reads the newspapers or employs himself about the house and
farm until nine or ten; then writes for three or four hours, seldom
more. He has always refused to do literary work to order, although he
has had some tempting offers. He will write only what he pleases, and
when he pleases, and so much as he pleases. And he observes no method
in preparing, any more than in doing, his work. He exacts from himself
no account of his time. He does not feel himself bound in conscience
to improve every incident that has occurred, every observation he has
made during the year. He simply lets the material which he has absorbed
distill over into essays long or short, few or many, as providence
directs. He does not belong to the class of methodical laborers who
make a business of writing, and who would feel conscience-stricken if,
at the close of their working-day, they had not blackened a certain
number of sheets of white paper. But he acknowledges that good work is
done in that way, and he thinks it is all a matter of habit.
His neighbors see to it that his leisure does not degenerate into
idleness. They have made a bank examiner of him, and a superintendent
of roads, and, latterly, a postmaster. The first-mentioned position is
the only one that has any emoluments attached to it; but, as he likes
to drive, he thinks it for his interest to see after the roads, and he
hopes, now that his post-office at West Farms is in working order, to
get his mails in good time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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