FIFTY YEARS OF FICTIONWRITING.

Hastings Standard, Volume XIII, Issue 4310, 13 November 1909, Page 2 (Supplement)

FIFTY YEARS OF FICTIONWRITING.

HOW MISS BRADDON CAME TO WRITE "LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET.''

To have delighted the world for half a century with an unceasing stream of fiction; to have published a novel for every year of her long life ; and to be able to entranc 0 the readers of to-day as sho_ entranced their grandparents in the middle of last century is the proud record cf Miss Braddon, who at seventvtwo seems still to possiss the secret of perennial youth. Much water has run under the bridges of her beloved Thames since Mary Elizabeth Braddon laboriously wrote her first story by its banks at'Chiswick in a child's round hand and between pencilled lines. The love of the pen was in the little one's blood ; for her father, a London solicitor, had made "Rough Robin" famous in the workl of sportsmen, and her mother was saturated with a passion for literature. And so Mary Elizabeth tcok to writing as naturally as a. duck to the water. 'THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT.'' As a schoolgirl, with her home still by the Thames at_Barnes, she wa,s always scribbling in her exercise books; and, under the eyes of her etchers, she furtively pencilled quite a long story, "The Old Armchair,'' which made her famous among her schoolfellows. But alas! for years she could not thaw the hard her-rts of the editors. All the literary dove; she sent out to them came back to her ark with the exasperating regularity of clockwork. One day, however, when she was emancipated from the schoolroom, she awoke to find a letter awaiting her which revolutionized her world, it was from a Beverley printer, who had seen a sketch by lie:- in a Yorkshire paper, and who offered her the sum of £lO to write a story for him, which should ''combing the humour of Dickens •with the* plot-construction of G. W. M. Reynolds." It was . a liirge order and "a small guerdon, but the girl was transported with delight. # Before she was many days older she had transported herself "and her mother to a Beverley farmhouse, and was reeling off the masterpiece of Dickens cum Reynolds at a thousand we rds an hour, weaving her plot as she rode about the Yorkshire lanes. She boldly christened her story, "Three Times Dead; or The Secret of the Heath''; and it was a very proud moment in fior life when she handed in the last sheets of the manuscript to the printer's boy. The book certainly did not make the printer's fonline." but, rentujied "The Trail of the Serpent," it had a new and vigorous lease of life. "LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET."

Still Fame refused to knock at her door, but not for long. A little later Mr. Maxwell, a publisher, projected a new magazine, the great feature of which was tr> bo a serial by a faraojs writer. To his dismay, however, the serial, which had been extensively advertised, was not forfcoming at the proper tin.\'3. Mr. Maxwell was in despair, until a Ifctter came, signed "M. E. Braddon," offering t-o write ? serial. "Too late," was his answer* to the young authoress when she called cn him. "But what is the latest day you can give me?'' she persisted. "Well," said Mr. Maxwell, "if the jnanuseript of the opening chapters is upon my breakfast table to-morrow morning that would be in time."

Next morning Mr. Maxwell found the first chapters of "Lady Audlev's Secret" among hie correspondence; his venture woa saved, and Miss Bracklon was on the high road to fame and fortune. Such was the romantic genesis of one cf the most popular books ever written.

Then followed in quick succession ''Aurora Flcy.l," ' Eleancr's Victory," and "Henry'Dunbar," all-eagerly welcomed by thousands of admiring readers; and Miss Brad-don took her place, which she has ever since retained, in the foremost rank o»f the writers of fiction. Since these early triumphs there has been scarcely a year when she has not given the world at least one of her fascinating novels; in some years she has published two and in others three; until her fiction-children now number more than her own years. And Miss Braddon's life lias been as happy as it has been busy. For nearly forty" years her home has been in a, fine old Georgeian house, once the abode of tha Bishop of Lichfield, at Richmond—for nothing can wean her from the river she loves so well. Here, surrounded by her birds and dogs, and her wonderful collection of china and has led ail ideal life, writing her books in the peace of her beautiful •garden or in her study, entertaining Her friends with a charming hospitality, and devoted to her home and her three sons, all of whom have made a name in the wor'.cl of letters.

In ln.'i* younger days she might be seen almost every morning cantering to Richmond Park on Kaiser, her whitefooted bay, her eyes sparkling and lace flashed with health and exercise; and even to day there are few horsewomen in England more graceful or expert. For the rest, she spends heir leisure in gardening, music, and study, of all ot which she is passionately fond. A simple gracious life, spent in womanly wajs remote from the glare of the limelight—that is what Miss Braddon loves, anil it is this that has preserved her youth and powers unimpaired into the 'seventies MISS BR ADDON'S METHODS.

As for her methods of work, she carefully maps out her books to the smallest details before putting pen to par>er; then, with her writing-pad on her knees, she fil's fheet after sheet with her small handwriting, clear as print, with a wonderful rapidity, never pausing for a word and rarely making a correction. From a thousand to fifteen hundred words an hour is he normal production ; and wlion the lunclieongong sounds paper, pid, and pen are all nut away, and ihe rest of the day is her own—and thft of her family and friends.

Mrs. Brielcrow: "It does a lady good to havo Dr. Grinn when one is sick. He is nlwavs so jollv." Mr. Brickrovv: "You'd be jolly, too, if you wore getting half a guinea for a ten-minute call."