Yellow Book

Wednesday, December 12th., Victoria Grove, Chelsea.

I have been browsing in the October edition of The Yellow Book. The literary content is, in my view, anodyne. Three of the short stories I abandoned after a few pages having found no interest in either the characters or their situation; I had hopes of Ella D'Arcy but she fell away after a promising start. The art work I find much more to my taste, especially that of Mr. Aubrey Beardsley. He has four drawings in this volume plus (unattributed seemingly) the cover and the frontispiece. Wherein lies the power of Beardsley's drawings? For a start they are more black than white which imparts a sinister quality, and there is always an element of the grotesque in them. I find them disquieting and fascinating at the same time.

I have been wondering about my story "A Letter Home". I think it is good, and others have told me it is. Perhaps I should submit it for consideration to be published in a forthcoming edition of The Yellow Book? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as my mother would often say. Although I am fairly content with my work at Woman I itch to be independent and to make my way by means of literature.