Over the weekend, I watched the 2019 version of Little Women. I’ll admit, I’ve never read the book and had never seen any of the movies. Honestly, I barely knew what it was about. But it was on and I became lost in the story and just had to watch until the end. And I am so glad I did.
As a woman writer who grew up in Massachusetts, I’ve become so inspired by Louisa May Alcott. “You’ve always reminded me of her,” my mother said. I could only dream.
I was especially left inspired by everything that went into writing and publishing L.M.’s book. Watching as she (SPOILERS INCOMING) sat writing her entire novel out with a quill on paper by candlelight, while here I am with a laptop in my lap or a cellphone in my hand, typing away on a word document and electronically querying my novel to agents while she had to mail out letters with all of her handwritten pages.
Then watching as her novel was finally published, the way the whole book was put together, hand-sewn pages and a velvet book cover and the gold-stamped title.
But the look on her face when she held her book in her hand was left imprinted on my brain. I long for the day I’m holding my published book in my hand, grateful for everyone who made it happen, but lucky I live in a day and age where it’s all much easier.
Thank you, Louisa May Alcott and all who came before me. Women like you made it possible for women like me, because us women writers are anything but little.
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