Only time can tell

Jane Austen died without the world knowing her name: Stories of classics

Some of the most celebrated artists of history died without realizing the value of the work they’d left behind. Such was the fate of Vincent van Gogh, who sold, by most accounts, exactly one painting in his lifetime. Many of the authors we now call brilliant had similar experiences. Emily Dickinson made her sister promise she’d burn each of her 1,800 poems after she died; Fitzgerald thought The Great Gatsby had been a fluke, as did Melville of Moby-Dick. Here are 10 stories with bittersweet endings about authors who never knew the historical significance of their work.

Moby-Dick hit shelves in 1851, but it sold roughly 3,000 copies in Melville's entire lifetime. Critics dismissed it as bloated and strange. Melville had been a literary star in his twenties, but this book baffled readers expecting another great sailor's tale.

Sales never recovered. He spent his last two decades as a customs inspector on the New York docks. He died in 1891, believing this book was a failure. It took until the 1920s, and a wave of scholars celebrating the centennial of his birth, for critics to declare Moby-Dick the great American novel.

The final royalty check F. Scott Fitzgerald ever received for The Great Gatsby came to $13.13. When the novel about a mysterious millionaire chasing a lost love across Long Island's glittering parties appeared in 1925, it sold fewer than 25,000 copies and left unsold stock rotting in warehouses.

Fitzgerald died in 1940, convinced he'd been forgotten, unable even to find copies of his own books in Los Angeles stores. Then, in World War II, the government's Armed Services Editions program shipped 155,000 pocket-sized copies to soldiers overseas, and each one reportedly got passed around and read by roughly seven men. Its popularity rose. Today, Gatsby sells half a million copies a year and is one of the best-selling American novels ever written.

A grieving mother, a stack of rejected pages, and one very reluctant novelist. That formula gave way to the funniest book of 1981. John Kennedy Toole wrote his sprawling New Orleans comedy in the early 1960s, only to have it rejected by Simon & Schuster after two years of revisions.

Crushed, he shelved it. In 1969, at 31, he took his own life. But his mother, Thelma, refused to let the manuscript die with him. For years, she pushed it toward publishers, finally cornering novelist Walker Percy, who initially refused… But he couldn't put the pages down. Louisiana State University Press published it in 1980, eleven years after Toole's death. It won the Pulitzer Prize the following year.

When Leaves of Grass appeared in 1855, self-published in Brooklyn with Walt Whitman’s name left off the cover, only around 800 copies existed, and just one American library bothered to buy one.

Critics called it obscene; one reviewer suggested throwing it in the fire. Whitman kept revising and expanding it for the rest of his life, eventually growing it from 12 poems to more than 400. Even his 1881 edition, praised by many, was effectively banned in Boston after a district attorney threatened obscenity charges over its treatment of sexuality. Whitman simply found a new publisher.

Though Whitman achieved notoriety towards the end of his life, he was not widely famous or commercially successful for most of his career. It took around a century for America to stop calling Leaves of Grass filthy and start calling it foundational.

Today, Jane Austen is one of the English language's most beloved novelists, her evergreen books selling millions each year. But, during her lifetime, each of her novels was published anonymously, credited only to "A Lady" or "the author of Pride and Prejudice."

When Austen died in 1817 at just 41, most of the reading public had no idea who had written the books they loved. Persuasion, her last completed novel, was published six months after her death. It was only then, in a memorial notice her brother Henry attached to the edition, that the world learned Jane Austen's actual name.

H.P. Lovecraft finished one of his most ambitious stories, a chilling tale of an Antarctic expedition, and his own editor wouldn't even publish it. In 1931, he submitted At the Mountains of Madness to Weird Tales, the pulp magazine that had run most of his work, only to have editor Farnsworth Wright reject it for being too long.

Lovecraft was so stung he shelved the manuscript for four years, unwilling to even look at it. It finally appeared in 1936 in Astounding Stories, heavily and clumsily edited without his approval, earning him $315, the most money he ever made from a single story. A fully restored version of his original text wasn't published until 1985, nearly fifty years after his death. Today the novella is considered one of his finest works and a major influence on modern science fiction horror.

Franz Kafka wrote the story of a man who wakes up transformed into a giant insect in just three weeks, then spent years anxious about how it would be received. When The Metamorphosis finally appeared in 1915, it was one of the very few works Kafka published during his lifetime; most of his fiction stayed in drawers or notebooks.

Reception was modest at best, confined to small German literary circles, who found it strange and difficult to categorize. Kafka was so protective of the story's ambiguity that he insisted the insect itself never be illustrated on the cover, worried an image would ruin the horror readers built in their own minds. He died in 1924, having no idea that Gregor Samsa's transformation would become one of the most analyzed openings in all of literature.

Sylvia Plath was so unsure of her only novel that she published it under a fake name. The Bell Jar, a thinly veiled account of a young woman's breakdown during a summer internship in New York, appeared in London in January 1963 under the pseudonym "Victoria Lucas", in a print run of just 2,000 copies.

Plath worried a poorly received novel might damage her standing as a poet. Weeks later, she died. The book's true authorship became public only after her death, and it wasn't published in the U.S. under her real name until 1971, once her reputation as a poet had already secured her a devoted readership. Today, it's considered one of the defining American novels about mental health and womanhood.

Emily Dickinson wrote nearly 1,800 poems. She saw fewer than a dozen printed in her lifetime, and even those were published anonymously, likely without her full consent.

She lived in Amherst, Massachusetts, sewing her poems into small hand-bound booklets and tucking them into a bureau drawer. When she died in 1886, her sister Lavinia discovered the stash and, instead of burning it as she'd once promised, resolved to share it with the world.

She turned to writer and editor Mabel Loomis Todd, who happened to be having a long affair with Emily's brother Austin, and scholar Thomas Wentworth Higginson to prepare the poems for print. Their edited version appeared in 1890 and became an immediate sensation.

Stieg Larsson never got to hold a single copy of any of his three bestselling novels. The Swedish journalist wrote The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and its two sequels in his spare time, mostly for his own satisfaction, and only shopped them to a publisher shortly before his death.

In November 2004, months after turning in all three manuscripts, he suffered a fatal heart attack at 50, reportedly after climbing several flights of stairs when his office elevator broke down. The books were published starting in 2005 and went on to sell more than 60 million copies worldwide, spawning multiple film adaptations and making its heroine, Lisbeth Salander, a global icon.

Hospital secrets

What is a "Code Gray" and what you should know if you hear it at the E.R.

A trip to the emergency room can be stressful enough without hearing doctors and nurses speak a language that sounds like a secret code. One minute, someone is asking for medication "STAT," the next there’s a "Code Gray," and another patient is suddenly "NPO." What do those words really mean? Some are official medical terms, others are insider slang, but they all help hospital staff communicate quickly when every second counts. Here are 10 of those codes explained.

The E.R. can be hectic and unpredictable. Most patients are frightened or uncomfortable, but now and then someone becomes aggressive because of pain, confusion, mental illness, or the effects of alcohol or other substances. That’s when you can hear "Code Gray" announced over the speakers.

The code is used to summon security officers to help manage a violent or combative situation. While color codes vary from one hospital to another, Code Gray commonly signals that staff needs extra assistance to protect patients, visitors, and healthcare workers. Even if you know it now, most people in the waiting room never know what happened, and that’s exactly the point.

You have a scheduled surgery, you’re in your bed waiting to be taken to the surgery room, and you ask for a cup of coffee to make the wait lighter. The nurse will probably tell you you’re an NPO. You may think it’s serious, but it’s simply a procedure.

"NPO" is an abbreviation that comes from the Latin phrase Nil Per Os, which means "nothing by mouth." It tells patients they cannot eat, drink, or sometimes even take medication until doctors say it’s safe. The rule is most common before surgery or certain medical tests, when food or liquids could increase the risk of complications or alter the results. It may be frustrating, but it’s an important part of keeping patients safe.

You’ve probably been through the experience of visiting an emergency room, either to get checked or to visit a loved one. In that part of the hospital where everyone is rushing to save lives, you’ve probably heard a doctor asking for the R.C.P. cart or medication "STAT!" It sounds urgent, and that's because it is.

The expression comes from the Latin statim, which means "immediately" or "without delay." Hospitals have used Latin medical terms for centuries, but STAT is one of the few that remains part of everyday conversation. When a doctor says it, the request jumps to the top of the priority list. It doesn’t always refer to a life-or-death situation, but it does mean the medical team needs something done as quickly as possible.

Newborns are always a reason to celebrate at the hospital. Parents usually rest happily next to their child as they receive congratulations from close relatives. However, the hospital is always prepared to handle extremely rare emergencies under "code pink."

If you hear a "Code Pink," it usually means a baby or young child is suspected of being abducted from the hospital. Within seconds, security officers respond, exits may be monitored or blocked, and staff begins following carefully rehearsed procedures. Although different hospitals sometimes use different color codes, Code Pink has become widely recognized across North America as one of the most serious alerts a hospital can issue.

If you’ve ever spent a few days in the hospital, you’ve probably noticed that some patients are walking up and down the halls, while others need help just getting out of bed. When a nurse refers to someone as a "walkie-talkie," it’s actually good news.

This informal expression refers to patients who can walk on their own, use the bathroom without assistance, and handle most basic tasks independently. It’s not an official medical term, of course, but it’s commonly used among healthcare workers because it quickly tells the next shift that the patient requires less hands-on care than many others.

As nurses change shifts, you’ll often hear them give a quick report about each patient. One person may only need medication, while another is described as a "total."

The term is short for a patient who requires total care. They may need help eating, bathing, getting dressed, turning in bed, or moving from one place to another. Although the expression sounds impersonal, it’s simply a practical way for caregivers to communicate how much assistance someone needs.

Most people hear "frequent flyer" and think of an airline reward program. And that’s correct, but in an emergency room, the phrase has a very different meaning.

A frequent flyer is an informal nickname for patients who repeatedly return to the hospital, often due to chronic illness, recurring medical conditions, or other ongoing health issues. Behind the light-hearted nickname is often a difficult reality. Many of these patients are simply dealing with medical problems that require regular emergency care, and the expression is just a way to make the experience a bit lighter among the familiar faces of doctors and nurses.

Not all codes are for patients. The next time you’re in a hospital, look closely at what the nurse is pushing from room to room. It may look like a small rolling desk with a computer on top. Staff often call it a "WOW," short for "workstation on wheels."

As hospitals switched from paper charts to electronic medical records, these mobile computers became essential. Nurses use them to review test results, scan medications, update patient charts, and check doctors’ orders without leaving the bedside. The name sounds funny, but the technology helps caregivers spend more time with patients instead of walking back and forth to a nursing station.

After getting a shot or having blood drawn, most patients never think about where the used needle ends up. It certainly doesn't go into an ordinary trash can.

Hospitals place needles, scalpels, and other sharp medical instruments into special containers designed to prevent accidental injuries. These sturdy, puncture-resistant boxes are sealed when full and safely disposed of in accordance with strict health regulations. This not only protects nurses, but it also protects cleaning crews, waste handlers, and even the public from dangerous needle sticks. It’s one of the most important safety measures in every hospital, even though most patients never notice it.

If you’ve ever watched a medical drama, you've probably seen a patient become so agitated that several staff members rush into the room. In situations like that, a doctor or nurse may ask for a "B-52." But the name has nothing to do with numbers themselves; it actually comes from a medicine.

B-52 is hospital slang for a fast-acting injection used to calm down patients who are severely combative or at risk of harming themselves or others. The nickname comes from a commonly used combination of medications that usually include diphenhydramine, haloperidol, and lorazepam. It’s strictly reserved for when other methods of calming the patient haven’t worked.