#barbara newhall follett

[morbidology]

Barbara Newhall Follett was the epitome of a child prodigy, having released her first novel, The House Without Windows, when she was just 12-years-old. Follett began writing when she was 4-years-old, encouraged by her critic and editor mother, her skills developed extensively as she got older. There was no doubt that she was exceptionally intelligent.

When she was 19-years-old, she married Nicherson Rogers. As the years went by, Follett became depressed and unhappy in her marriage, believing her husband was being unfaithful. On 7 December, 1939, Follett and her husband had an argument and she stormed out of their apartment, never to be seen again. Her disappearance wasn’t reported by Rogers until two weeks latter. Her missing person report was filed in her husband’s name, therefore the media had no idea that the once child prodigy was missing. Due to her husband’s cavalier attitude regarding her whereabouts, her family have always believed him to be involved somehow.

Still to this day, nobody knows the true whereabouts of Barbara Follett or even if she is still alive.

[sarahnourwriter]

"She would be invisible forever to all mortals, save those few who have minds to believe, eyes to see. To these she is ever present, the spirit of Nature—a sprite of the meadow, a naiad of lakes, a nymph of the woods."

- The House Without Windows, Barbara Newhall Follett

[veronicaleighauthor]

Fun Facts About “Burning Bright”

I’m behind doing a Fun Facts post on my story “Burning Bright.” It was recently published in the #44 of Pulp Adventures. If you’re interested in purchasing an issue, click here. Usually posts share some fun little tidbits about the story and what inspired it.

Let’s begin with the title. The phrase “Burning Bright,” comes from William Blake’s poem “Tyger, Tyger.” I’m not a great lover of poetry, but I do love this one. Another phrase from it, “Fearful Symmetry” is the title of a book in the story.

The author, Barbara Newhall Follett and her odd disappearance partly inspired this story. A genius, she wrote a bestselling book when she was young and though she published a few other things, she fell into obscurity. When she was twenty-five, she left her apartment and was never seen again. To this day they don’t know if there was an accident, if she was murdered, or if she killed herself.

Another inspiration for this story is Agatha Christie. After the death of her mother and break down of her marriage, she disappeared for eleven days and sent the world into a panic. When she was recovered at a hotel, safe and oblivious to the upset, using her husband’s lover’s surname. Doctors determined that she had memory loss. Some believed it was a stunt, to revenge herself on her husband for his infidelity and demand for a divorce. Other’s think it was a nervous breakdown, from grief and stress. Agatha Christie herself never addressed the episode in interviews or her autobiography.

In this story, a character is awarded the Pulitzer Prize for their book. The first woman to be awarded the Pulitzer was Edith Wharton, for “The Age of Innocence,” in 1920.

While it’s only referenced briefly, this story takes place in Terre Haute in the 1930s. Yes, it’s one of my many Great Depression stories.

The Vigo County Poor Farm is referenced. In the 19th century, Poor Farms were set up for those living in poverty, who needed care. It wasn’t as altruistic as it sounded: from many accounts, Poor Farms were depressing places and didn’t treat their residents very well. The Vigo County Poor Farm featured in this story, was the one constructed in the 1930s, up in north Terre Haute, on Maple Avenue. Later, it was turned into a nursing home, and then torn down and new building for the nursing home was built in the area. For more information on the Vigo County Poor Farm, check out this article and this one from the Tribune Star. My great-grandfather was a resident at the Vigo County Poor Farm in the late 1940s.

Prairie Creek is shown in the story. My grandfather lived there when he was young and I have cousins who live in the home there.

Until next time!

[amelia-rate]

The House Without Windows, by Barbara Newhall Follett

I just read the most lovely book.

Written when the author was only nine, then published when she was twelve, it reads like a very pleasant dream that one has when they are a child.

It's a dream of belonging to wild places, which I think we can all relate to from time to time. A reviewer described it in 1926 as "bathed in a magical light."

This edition has charming illustrations by artist Jackie Morris, who also wrote the intro to the book. She describes how young Barbara Newhall Follett was when she wrote this first book, only nine years old. Her first manuscript was unfortunately lost in a house fire, which required her to retype it, but the original note she left on her door for her parents while she wrote it managed to be saved. An image of it is shared in the intro.

Same, girl, same.

This author comes with her very own mystery, as well. When she was 29, and seemingly happily married, she took thirty dollars and walked away from her house without a word, never to be seen again. I'm intrigued enough to read her other works and entertain theories of her starting a new life elsewhere, as the character in this book does.

More info can be found online at the archive maintained by her half nephew, Stefan Cooke: www.farksolia.org

[conradscrime]

What Happened to Novelist Barbara Newhall Follett?

November 6, 2023

Barbara Newhall Follet was born in New Hampshire on March 4, 1914 to literary editor, Wilson Follett and children's writer, Helen Thomas Follett. Barbara had one older sister from her father's first marriage, Grace, and a younger sister Sabra, who later became the first woman to become a graduate student at Princeton University in 1961.

Barbara was homeschooled by her mother and at a young age began her love for reading and writing. At age 4, Barbara was writing her own poems, and by age 7 she was writing about a world she created called Farksolia and writing about it's language, called Farksoo.

In 1923, as a birthday present for her mom, Barbara began to write a story called The House Without Windows with a typewriter she had been given. Later on, the manuscript actually burned in a house fire, but Barbara completely rewrote it and her father published it in 1927 as he was an editor for Knopf publishing house.

Due to the success of the book, which was about a young girl who ran away from home and lived in nature with her animal friends, some considered Barbara a child genius. Barbara began to review other children's books and her book was critically acclaimed by the New York Times.

Barbara's next book was called The Voyage of the Norman D, based on her experience travelling on a coastal schooner in Nova Scotia, Canada. This was published in 1928.

Though another success, 1928 would not be a good year for Barbara. Her father left her mother for another woman, and this was incredibly devastating to Barbara who was very close with her father.

Her family was then struggling and the Great Depression of the 1930's only made it worse. At the age of 16, Barbara took up a job as a secretary in New York City, writing several manuscripts.

Barbara met a man named Nickerson Rogers in 1931, and together, the two of them travelled to many different places in the world including the Appalachian Trail and also Spain. The couple settled in Brookline, Massachusetts where they married in July 1934.

Barbara was still writing, however she was not having much success with publishers. By 1937, her marriage wasn't so happy anymore either, she began writing to her friends about being dissatisfied with married life.

Her marriage began to crumble further, as Barbara had suspicions that Nickerson was being unfaithful, causing her to fall into a depression.

Barbara's husband stated that on December 7, 1939, Barbara had lelft their apartment after they had gotten into an argument. Nickerson said that Barbara had $30 in her pocket and she was never seen again.

Initially, Nickerson had not reported his wife as a missing person until two weeks later, telling police he was waiting for her to come home. Four months after Barbara's disappearance, Nickerson requested a missing persons bulletin be issued.

The bulletin had actually used Barbara's married name of Rogers, so the public had actually not recognized or known about her disappearance until 1966.

Thirteen years after Barbara disappeared, in 1952 her mother wanted the authorities to look more into it, believing that Nickerson had something to do it due to him putting in very little effort to find his wife.

Barbara's body was never found, and there was no evidence authorities could find suggesting or excluding foul play.

In 2019, a theory that Barbara's body was found but incorrectly identified was brought forth by a writer named Daniel Mills. Mills supposedly found evidence that Barbara's body was found in 1948, but identified as another missing woman named Elsie Whittemore.

The body was found on Pulsifer Hill, half a mile from where Barbara and Nickerson had a rental agreement. The possessions found with the body were consistent with Barbara's belongings, but local police were unaware of her disappearance. The cause of death was determined to be suicide, a bottle of barbiturate residue was found at the scene, which Barbara had been known to take.

[thesnakeandthemoon]

Barbara Newhall Follett (1914-1939)

[cobstraverse]

“My dreams are going through their death flurries. I thought they were all safely buried, but sometimes they stir in their grave, making my heartstrings twinge. I mean no particular dream, you understand, but the whole radiant flock of them together—with their rainbow wings, iridescent, bright, soaring, glorious, sublime. They are dying before the steel javelins and arrows of a world of Time and Money.” -Barbara Newhall Follett

[godzilla-reads]

Another book from the used bookstore 👀

📖 A House Without Windows by Barbara Newhall Follett

[voluptuarian]

My dreams are going through their death flurries. They are dying before the steel javelins and arrows of a world of Time and Money.

Barbara Newhall Follett

[drmorbius12]

Flowers have faded, Butterfly wings are weary, And far off is the chanting of the eternal sea.

Barbara Newhall Follett, poetry included in her book ‘The House Without Windows’, pub 1927, written when she was just 12 years old.  She was considered a ‘child prodigy’ at the time.  In December of 1939, at the age of 25, she walked out of her (and her husband’s) Brookline apartment, never to be seen again.

[bookymcbookface]

The House Without Windows, by Barbara Newhall Follett

[morbidology]

Barbara Newhall Follett was the epitome of a child prodigy; in 1927, the 12-year-old released her very first novel, “The House Without Windows.” Born to Wilson Follett – who was a critic and editor – and Helen Follett – who was a children’s writer –  Barbara learned how to use a typewriter when she was just four or five-years-old. 

As a young girl, Barbara was encouraged by her critic and editor mother and as the years went by, her skills developed extensively. By eight, Barbara started working on her very first novel which would become a big success. There was no doubt in anybody’s mind that Barbara was an exceptionally intelligent little girl. 

She would go on to completely transfix the literacy world but not only because of her writing skills; Barbara’s life tragically went on to to eerily imitate the story line in her very own novel....

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞:

https://morbidology.com/the-missing-prodigy-barbara-follett/

[sarahnourwriter]

"My dreams are going through their death flurries. I thought they were all safely buried, but sometimes they stir in their grave, making my heartstrings twinge. I mean no particular dream, you understand, but the whole radiant flock of them together—with their rainbow wings, iridescent, bright, soaring, glorious, sublime. They are dying before the steel javelins and arrows of a world of Time and Money."

- The House Without Windows, Barbara Newhall Follett

[missanthropicprinciple]

I enclose a copy of the study to which you referred. As you will see, it is strictly empirical and leaves the difficult 'value judgements' up in the air. Nevertheless, the problem is there: the conformity pressures of the school system and the peer group vs. the full burden of intense individuality. On top of this, I think that we are very ignorant (I mean myself) about all that is involved in any human life, whether conforming or non-conforming, whether apparently happy or apparently tragic. I feel that we move about in the midst of towering realities which we do not understand, and that it is quite impossible for us to judge the significance of an individual career. Whether a life is long or short, famous or obscure, I feel that it has a place, its meaning, in the whole, and that it reaches out infinitely beyond human apprehension.

Harold Grier McGurdy (viii) in a letter to Barbara Newhall Follett’s mother, Helen.

[lyssahumana]

[gaufry]

Fading, fading...

“My dreams are going through their death flurries.  I thought they were all safely buried, but sometimes they stir in their grave, making my heartstrings twinge. I mean no particular dream, you understand, but the whole radiant flock of them together—with their rainbow wings, iridescent, bright, soaring, glorious, sublime.  They are dying before the steel javelins and arrows of a world of Time and Money.” ― Barbara Newhall Follett