In various of Opal's excursions into fame circumstances seem to have been made to order for her, but she was no mean performer in laying backgrounds for her fantasies. Sometimes it has seemed uncanny, supernatural almost, the way circumstances have suited themselves to her plans.
Other characteristics should be known for their bearing upon the literary efforts of this waif of the mountains and logging camps. Although usually she fluttered from one unfinished thing to something else, she was capable, under stress, of a prodigious amount of work. She could apply herself at nerve-racking effort 12 to 16 hours a day over a considerable period.
This little maid, though having a huge fund of information upon many subjects, seemed totally unfamiliar with the ways of the world, so that many things which would have seemed utterly impossible to others did not in the least daunt her.
Opal could walk as an unknown person into a gathering of notables and with a childish, naive charm interrupt whatever was going on to introduce herself to each of those present. This was not discourtesy nor lack of breeding—it was Opal.
These several traits had considerable bearing upon the preparation of the tattered and torn diary in the manner in which I believe it was prepared, upon the accidental request for it from the Atlantic Monthly editor, and upon various things that happened during its publication.
Even Opal's name is peculiarly fitted to her character and personality. The stone is both transparent and opaque, and nothing better describes our Opal.
