Nancy Atherton
Nancy Atherton is not a white-haired Englishwoman with a softly wrinkled face, a wry smile, and wise gray eyes, nor does she live in a thatched cottage behind a babbling brook in a tranquil, rural corner of the Cotswolds.
She has never taken tea with a vicar (although she drank an Orange Squash with one once) and she doesn't plan to continue writing after her allotted time on earth (though such plans are, as well all know, subject to change without notice).
If you prefer to envision her as an Englishwoman, she urges you to cling to your illusions at all costs -- she treasures carefully nurtured illusions. She also urges you to read no further.
Because the truth is that Nancy Atherton is a dark-haired American with a generally unwrinkled face, a beaming smile, and hazel eyes, who lives in a plain house in Colorado Springs. She comes from a large, gregarious family (five brothers and two sisters!) and enjoys socializing as much as she enjoys solitude.
So if you are looking for her at a convention, don't look for a stately grande dame in a flowery dress. Look for a woman in jeans and sneakers who's bounding around like a hyperactive gerbil.
That'll be her. And she'd love to meet you.
Japanese: ナンシー アサートン
“When I learned of Aunt Dimity's death, I was stunned. Not because she was dead, but because I had never known she'd been alive.”
“The Handsome Prince Handbook is mute on the subject of chronic workaholism—Prince Charming, apparently, knew how to delegate—and I didn't know where else to turn for help. What do you do when life begins to go wrong and you've used up all three wishes?”
“Maybe, when all was said and done, that was where love began and what kept it alive: the simple, everyday act of paying attention.”
“They were tales of commonplace courage and optimism, for I knew from my own experience that everyday virtues endure best, and that quiet courage is worth more than the grandest derring-do.”
“A woman without a past is like a fruitcake without brandy—insipid!”
“Fairy tales, as Nell had said, are always complicated.”
“Jack made a pass at me, too. He thought my riding crop was alluring until I smacked him across the face with it." "Good Grief," I said. "Is any woman safe from him? "If I were Horace Malvern," said Emma, "I'd hide the cows.”
“Helplessness in the face of a child's suffering is the curse of parenthood.”