by Jennnifer Schneider
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| Barbara Taylor Bradford, one of the world’s best-selling novelists, who captivated readers for decades with chronicles of buried secrets, raging ambitions and strong women of humble origins rising to wealth and power, died on Sunday at her home in Manhattan. She was 91. —The New York Times, November 25, 2024 |
She filled blank pages with words of
multiple meanings and suits tailored for stories
of queens. She crafted plots that resembled
her own life story and offered a staircase to portals
rich in descriptive imagery. A rags-to-riches arc
that avoided and, at times, created, as many markers
of cliche and peculiarly timed climaxes as it delivered
tension and reams of dreams
strung of form-
fitting predictability. A twist to the standard
plot, on ice, of dice—she dined with hands of Margaret
Thatcher and Queen Elizabeth and, in her own
way, revealed subtleties
of character. An admirable trajectory to fill any library.
Of Substance—a single proper
noun.
In a series of serious words
she doubled down on Doubleday.
She made child’s play of words and commerce of play.
A woman of
humble origins. A staircase built for empires
and umpires tracking stars in eyes
and star-struck skies. Arms stretched wide.
The dictionary lacks a proper word for a character
of her sort. Charades neither game nor fame. A novel protagonist
of the written word. My word. She penned thousands of sentences,
But her greatest act of all is a simple form—her, as a verb. A fiery
engine of commerce and craft and compulsively consumable plot
twists. Amidst sudden changes of heart and the wonder
of it all—a trusted pen, a loyal friend. Neither weapon
nor contempt for the reality of the wor(l)d. She wrote the story
as she lived it. To Remember. As any woman that could
and would and should dream it. Hold it.
A heroine so bold.
She lived and wrote and broke her own rules.
Of voice and of heart. Of Just Rewards.
As the plot unfolds to its final page.
The finale in her words
She remains a work and Woman of Substance
A celebrity in the rarest of literary terms form.
A story (unedited) well told.
A dynasty (unscripted) all her own.
A strong verb.
To be continued. A sequel, well-earned.
Jennifer Schneider is an educator who lives, writes, and works in small spaces throughout Pennsylvania. Recent works include A Collection of Recollections, Invisible Ink, On Habits & Habitats, and Blindfolds, Bruises, and Breakups.