I remember it like it happened yesterday. I was 5 months into my first pregnancy, a semi-newlywed and carrying a full load of classes, among them English literature. This particular semester I was enjoying my discovery of a somewhat obscure authoress by the name of…….wait for it…….Jane Austen. Yes, this was 22 years ago, at that time Jane Austen for the most part was relegated to the realm of English lit classes, high school honors classes and dedicated Anglophiles. I had spent the better part of a Saturday afternoon on the living room floor reading Pride and Prejudice – perhaps you’ve heard of it. I hadn’t. And this from an English major. Really. The moment that is so cemented in my memory was when Mr. Darcy told Elizabeth that he loved her and wanted to marry her. If someone would have told me that the sky was orange and that black was white I would have been more likely to believe it. After picking my chin up off the floor and re-reading the words to make sure that I understood correctly what had been said, I had to put the book down, just to recover from the shock.
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