“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Eleanor (Friede) represented a different kind of framework, in which business was business, while art was respected, and where after all matters of great money might be involved. Ruburt was rather proud of handling his own business affairs. Eleanor also represented on another level the establishment, the rich, literary, “in” crowd, and the great youthful specialized ideas of literary success.

Yet these people were coming to Ruburt because of his psychic work, and his psychically inspired writing. Eleanor, he discovered, was anything but his idealized concept of a literary editor. This was a shock. From the time Eleanor came she spoke with the words of Ruburt’s past, glowingly presenting the possibility of purely literary success, prestige, and cash.

Dialogues represented a synthesis of literary and psychic endeavor. It also allowed Ruburt necessary emotional expression. Tim Foote represented literary recognition, yet he wrote to Ruburt to ask his psychic opinion on another psychic writer.

(In this poem, which she wrote just a year ago, Jane deals not only with her transformation of her work into its inevitable literary, physical form, but restates her belief that her individualized consciousness will live after her physical death. [...]

[...] When he decided not to do Adventures (a week or two ago) the book became more important in both literary and financial terms.

(9:32.) Again, his natural abilities kept leading him, so it seemed, away from the straight novel framework into the science fiction format, where at that time he discovered that science fiction was not given any particular honor in the literary field. [...]

As he continued with his books and mine, he became more bewildered, in that there seemed to be no literary framework in which they were legitimately reviewed. [...]

[...] Do not think in literary terms. The literary terms can divide you from the people. [...]

[...] And oh, yes: Rick Stack and his wife, Anne Marie O’Farrell, who’s my literary agent. [...]

[...] I would imagine that Seth made his last remark because Jane and I were speculating about the fate of the material after our deaths – getting a literary executor, etc.)

Our books continued to go out of print, and in 1990 I began working with Anne Marie O’Farrell, a literary agent. [...]

He may think of some hypothetical literary writer—a composite image again, comfortable enough, slightly avant-garde, fashionably so, in contact with his peers, quite forgetting again that his—and his mind has always been far less conventional than that, far more probing and again, forgetting that he always enjoyed viewing society from a vantage point slightly outside of it. [...]

[...] I’m proud to be involved in this work with Rick and his wife, Anne Marie O’Farrell, who is my literary agent. [...]

[...] Also—because of the nature of her own psychic work, Jane must feel abandoned by the literary establishment—and even society in general—no matter if certain people do buy her books. [...]

[...] The fact that psychic books, so-called, do not give him what he thinks of as conventional literary praise is annoying but not basically pertinent.

[...] Many complicated questions and reasons have been advanced in dealing with various aspects of the Gospels: their possible foundation in oral tradition and older common literary or documentary sources; whether any of them embodies an eyewitness account of the life of Christ [it has been very recently claimed that Mark’s was written only a few years after Christ’s death, for example], whether the Gospels should simply be regarded as expressing a single tradition, the fact and atmosphere of Christ, regardless of anything else, etc.

[...] My point is to show that she did not have time to consciously tinker with the thought, to recompose it in a literary sense, etc.)

[...] Strong literary abilities... [...]

[...] Literary devices themselves served as formalized methods of seeming to indulge certain information, while actually offering instead falsified data. [...]

[...] Americans have had a fine and often understandable disdain for what was thought of as the European gentleman, or even the literary gentleman, or the man who somehow or other did not have to “rub elbows with the masses.” [...]

[...] The child (Sean) was a girl—1432—France—and at one time your sister—strong literary abilities—some interest in music—should not be pampered for the personality is already given to indulgence. [...]

[...] In your culture, at least, the educated in the literary arts provide you with novels featuring antiheroes, and often portray an individual existence [as being] without meaning, in which no action is sufficient to mitigate the private puzzlement or anguish.

[...] This morning Jane received Tam Mossman’s agreement to act as literary executor.