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<DIV>So this is what they mean about the post-truth era:</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Helvetica><FONT style="FONT-SIZE: 8.4pt">She [VW] said: “Writing
is like sex. First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then
you do it for money.”</FONT></FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Helvetica></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Helvetica>Stuart</FONT></DIV>
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style='FONT-SIZE: small; TEXT-DECORATION: none; FONT-FAMILY: "Calibri"; FONT-WEIGHT: normal; COLOR: #000000; FONT-STYLE: normal; DISPLAY: inline'><STRONG
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3111>It’s the birthday</STRONG> of writer <A
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3112 style="COLOR: rgb(122,11,13)"
href="https://urldefense.proofpoint.com/v2/url?u=https-3A__www.britannica.com_biography_Virginia-2DWoolf&d=DgMFaQ&c=lqHimbpwJeF7VTDNof4ddl8H-RbXeAdbMI2MFE1TXqA&r=hklzm-aYN59Xi_A-E49Kue8q9-wqoSgfAy2WeBsbw3k&m=2U-x8OtVHayvrXcRhctfip4fXqA833iRo5eNlYbAtyw&s=aPVzkXX281v0PvXkPO54xscPEKEDOJqEQaipwuHHqps&e="
target=_blank><STRONG id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3113>Virginia
Woolf</STRONG></A> (<A id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3114
style="COLOR: rgb(122,11,13)"
href="https://urldefense.proofpoint.com/v2/url?u=http-3A__www.amazon.com_gp_search-3Fie-3DUTF8-26keywords-3DVirginia-2520Woolf-26tag-3Dwrital-2D20-26index-3Dblended-26linkCode-3Dur2-26camp-3D1789-26creative-3D9325&d=DgMFaQ&c=lqHimbpwJeF7VTDNof4ddl8H-RbXeAdbMI2MFE1TXqA&r=hklzm-aYN59Xi_A-E49Kue8q9-wqoSgfAy2WeBsbw3k&m=2U-x8OtVHayvrXcRhctfip4fXqA833iRo5eNlYbAtyw&s=J4RBwgK5uRyOwRJ6eeE6Qu6giGzSkMYjzz9lClScWIM&e="
target=_blank>books by this author</A>), born in Kensington, England (1882). She
began her professional writing career in 1904 at the age of 22, at the end of a
terrible year. Her father had died in February, prompting her second major
breakdown (the first had come when she was a teenager, after her mother and
half-sister both died within a couple of years). This time, she became suicidal;
she attempted to throw herself out of a window, but it was low to the ground and
she was not seriously hurt. She refused to eat and began hearing things — she
thought that the birds were singing in Greek and that King Edward VII was in the
azaleas speaking dirty words. She was sent to the countryside to recover. She
was not allowed to do much — her exercise was limited, and the doctors refused
to let her write anything besides letters. She was frustrated that her siblings
were carrying on the family business without her, including moving out of their
old home and into a new one. She finally convinced her sister Vanessa to let her
come to London for a 10-day visit.</DIV></DIV></DIV>
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<DIV id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3115
style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1.5em; WORD-BREAK: normal">Her friend Violet Dickinson
thought that writing would be good for Woolf, and during that brief stay in
London, Dickinson introduced her to Margaret Lyttelton, the editor of the
women’s supplement of <EM id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3116>The
Guardian.</EM><EM id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3117> </EM>Lyttelton
invited her to submit some work. Once the 10 days were over, Woolf was sent back
to the countryside to stay with another relative, this one in Yorkshire. There
she wrote an essay about Haworth, the Brontë sisters’ parsonage. She wrote: “It
may have been the effect of a sympathetic imagination, but I think that there
were good reasons why Haworth did certainly strike one not exactly as gloomy,
but, what is worse for artistic purposes, as dingy and commonplace.” She also
wrote a review of <EM id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3118>The Son of Royal
Langbirth</EM><EM id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3119> </EM>by William
Dean Howells. She sent her pieces to Lyttelton, who published them both in <EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3120>The Guardian</EM><EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3121> </EM>that December. It was her
first published work. When a friend sent a letter of congratulations, Woolf
replied: “Not that a review deserves praise, it is necessarily dull work
reviewing I think, and I hate the critical attitude of mind because all the time
I know what a humbug I am, and ask myself what right have I to dictate what’s
good and bad, when I couldn’t, probably, do as well myself!”</DIV>
<DIV id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3122
style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1.5em; WORD-BREAK: normal">In January of 1905, her doctors
decided that she was cured, and allowed her to return to London. Also in
January, she received her first payment for her writing. She wrote in her diary:
“Found this morning on my plate my first installment of wages — £2.7.6 for <EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3123>Guardian</EM> articles, which gave me
great pleasure. Also a book ‘Women in America’ for review, so that means more
work, & cheques ultimately.” That same month, she wrote a piece for her
father’s biographer; worked on a longer essay called “Street Music”; and began
writing reviews and articles for the <EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3124>Times Literary Supplement.</EM></DIV>
<DIV id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3125
style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1.5em; WORD-BREAK: normal">Woolf was able to support
herself with her journalism, and over the next 15 years she published more than
200 reviews and essays. In 1913, her first novel, <EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3126>The Voyage Out</EM>, was accepted for
publication, a novel she had been working on for many years. She was terrified
that everyone would laugh at it; and after she corrected the proofs, she had
another breakdown, her first since she had started writing professionally. This
breakdown lasted on and off for two years, and she spent time in a nursing home
for mental illness. <EM id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3127>The Voyage
Out</EM><EM id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3128> </EM>was finally
published in 1915, after Woolf recovered.</DIV>
<DIV id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3129
style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1.5em; WORD-BREAK: normal">Her other novels include <EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3130>Mrs Dalloway</EM><EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3131> </EM>(1925), <EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3132>To the Lighthouse</EM><EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3133> </EM>(1927), and <EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3134>Orlando</EM><EM
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3135> </EM>(1928).</DIV>
<DIV id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3136
style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 1.5em; WORD-BREAK: normal">She said: “Writing is like sex.
First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then you do it
for money.”</DIV></DIV>
<H4 id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3137
style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0.75em; MARGIN-TOP: 0px">Be well, do good work, and keep
in touch.<SPAN id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3138
style="FONT-SIZE: 13px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; POSITION: relative; LINE-HEIGHT: 0; TOP: -0.5em">®</SPAN></H4>
<H5 id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3140
style="TEXT-TRANSFORM: uppercase">PRODUCTION CREDITS</H5>
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style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN-TOP: 0px; WORD-BREAK: normal" dir=ltr><STRONG
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3142>Host:</STRONG> Garrison Keillor<BR
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3143><STRONG
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3144>Technical Director:</STRONG> Thomas
Scheuzger<BR id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3145><STRONG
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3146>Engineer:</STRONG> Noah Smith<BR
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3147><STRONG
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3148>Producer:</STRONG> Joy Biles<BR
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3149><STRONG
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3150>Permissions:</STRONG> Theresa Burgess<BR
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3151><STRONG
id=yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1485345023589_3152>Web Producer:</STRONG> Ben
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