The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Part One



8th January, 1946
Mr. Sidney Stark, Publisher
Stephens & Stark Ltd. 21
St. James's Place
London S.W.1
England
Dear Sidney,
Susan Scott is a wonder. We sold over forty copies of the book,
which was very pleasant, but much more thrilling from my
standpoint was the food. Susan managed to procure ration
coupons for icing sugar and real eggs for the meringue. If all her
literary luncheons are going to achieve these heights, I won't
mind touring about the country. Do you suppose that a lavish
bonus could spur her on to butter? Let's try it—you may deduct
the money from my royalties. Now for my grim news. You asked
me how work on my new book is progressing. Sidney, it
isn't. English Foibles seemed so promising at first. After all, one
should be able to write reams about the Society to Protest the
Glorification of the English Bunny. I unearthed a photograph of
the Vermin Exterminators' Trade Union, marching down an Oxford
street with placards screaming "Down with Beatrix Potter!" But
what is there to write about after a caption? Nothing, that's
what. I no longer want to write this book—my head and my heart
just aren't in it. Dear as Izzy Bickerstaff is—and was—to me, I
don't want to write anything else under that name. I don't want to
be considered a light-hearted journalist anymore. I do
acknowledge that making readers laugh—or at least chuckle—
during the war was no mean feat, but I don't want to do it
anymore. I can't seem to dredge up any sense of proportion or
balance these days, and God knows one cannot write humor
without them. In the meantime, I am very happy Stephens &
Stark is making money on Izzy Bickerstaff Goes to War. It
relieves my conscience over the debacle of my Anne Bront
biography. My thanks for everything and love, Juliet P.S. I am
reading the collected correspondence of Mrs. Montagu. Do you
know what that dismal woman wrote to Jane Carlyle? "My dear
little Jane, everybody is born with a vocation, and yours is to
write charming little notes." I hope Jane spat on her. From
Sidney to Juliet 10th January, 1946 Miss Juliet Ashton 23 Glebe
Place Chelsea London S.W. 3 Dear Juliet: Congratulations! Susan
Scott said you took to the audience at the luncheon like a
drunkard to rum—and they to you—so please stop worrying about
your tour next week. I haven't a doubt of your success. Having
witnessed your electrifying performance of "The Shepherd Boy
Sings in the Valley of Humiliation" eighteen years ago, I know you
will have every listener coiled around your little finger within
moments.

Excerpted from The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows Copyright © 2008 by Mary Ann Shaffer. Excerpted by permission of The Dial Press, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.