Hello Readers!
My Pacific Northwest readers write of daffodils and tulips; my East Coast friends rave of cherry blossoms, my Southern friends talk of star jasmine and magnolia, all harbingers of spring. Here in the Sonoran Desert, we await the superbloom of wildflowers and flowering cacti. How can something so prickly put out such gorgeous blossoms?
I’m reminded of a stern English teacher I had in high school, all hard edges (although he had a wicked sense of humor), who, just before graduation, offered a beautiful life lesson I’ve never forgotten. I wrote about it years ago.
The Spring of Our Awakening
A few short years after Father McGillicuddy left the priesthood, almost married an ex-nun, and came to teach at a suburban Long Island high school, I sat in his senior AP English class in the row nearest the window in the fourth seat back, behind Birdie Stein and in front of Peter Brunell, in June 1975.
Mr. McGillicuddy mirrored Gregory Peck in To Kill A Mockingbird: tall, quiet, a shock of dark hair caroming down his forehead, an aquiline nose, glasses. He encouraged us to speak up for injustice and taught us how to debate using an eclectic curriculum: The Scarlet Letter; Cry, the Beloved Country; Macbeth; The Book of Job. He challenged us to keep journals and required us to move beyond our comfort zones to create a unique senior project—something we had never before attempted—to present to the class. That assignment taught us all—future writers, editors, teachers, musicians, politicians, doctors, lawyers, artists, rabbis, college administrators, entrepreneurs, and screenwriters—a valuable lesson that would help prepare us as we transitioned into adulthood: our efforts have the frightening prospect of failure rather than the always before expected success of our efforts.
But that isn’t the most important lesson Mr. McGillicuddy taught us.
Question everything, he said. Question everyone. Question yourself.
One spring morning, not long before our graduation and the rest of our lives, Mr. McGillicuddy assumed his usual teaching position, sitting on the corner of a desk at the front of the room. He removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He repositioned his glasses on his long, pointed nose and looked at us, straight on, taking us all in, row by row.
“Open your eyes,” he said.
At first, I felt uncomfortable, unsure of what to do with the command. I looked down and followed the meandering pattern on the scratched faux-wood grain on the top of the school desk. McGillicuddy didn’t say another word for the rest of the class period, forty-two long minutes. The otherwise silent room bristled with electricity, that invisible, magical force of energy. There was a faint rustling of metal chairs on pocked linoleum. A few stifled coughs.
Talk about gravitas, the impact those three words had on me. Slowly, I raised my head and looked out the smudged panes of the classroom with a new perspective. It wasn’t all about me. Mr. McGillicuddy prepared us for that moment, and with it, the dawning realization that this portion of our lives was over and outside these school walls was a world full of injustice crying for our attention and involvement.
As I’ve evolved from high school and college student to VISTA volunteer to mother to journalist to educator to civic activist to grandmother to author, Mr. McGillicuddy’s words have colored my view of the world, my eyes wide open.
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Women’s History Month
Although we’re almost at the end March, I’d love to share author friend Janis Robinson Daly’s Women’s History Month calendar. Each day highlights a historical fiction novel based on a historical figure. More reads for your TBR list! For more information, follow Janis at:
https://janisrdaly.com/newsletter/
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Stacks Book Club, Tombstone Festival of Western Books, and Tucson Festival of Books
Earlier this month, I participated in three wonderful events in Arizona: the first Local Author Faire at Stacks Book Club, the new indie bookstore in Oro Valley; Tombstone Festival of Western Books in historic Tombstone; and Tucson Festival of Books held on the UA campus in Tucson. At all three events, I met sister/fellow authors and met many readers.
What a delight to spend a whole day with author Teresa Janssen, author of The Ways of Water, as we shared a table in Tombstone. And I loved womaning the Women Writing the West booth at TFB with WWW authors Jan Cleere and Marty Eberhardt.
Here, I’m pictured with fellow Western Writers of America and Blue Cottage Agency authors Bob Yoho and Joe Brown at the Tombstone event.
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Update on The Irish Girl
Now that edits are finished, The Irish Girl is off for interior design at She Writes Press. The advance reader copies will be available to the trade later this spring and endorsements continue to pour in. My publicity campaign through Blue Cottage Agency begins in earnest in September with book release date set for December 10, 2024, just in time for holiday sales.
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What My Arizona Book Club is Reading
The Bookies, my book club in Oro Valley, Arizona, meets December through April. This year’s reads include:
- Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver
- The Hearts of Horses by Molly Gloss
- The Secret Life of Sunflowers by Marta Molnar
- The Girl Who Wrote in Silk by Kelli Estes
- The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams
We were thrilled to have author Kelli Estes join us for the March meeting via Zoom.
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New Contest Winner
Wow, was I overwhelmed with your responses last month telling me the first names of your grandmothers, great-aunts, aunts, and/or cousins who lived in the 1930s. More than 100 of you responded with wonderful names, Estelle and Bessie and Fran and Josie, and hundreds of other names that I’ll audition for my work in progress.
Congratulations to Lynn Hall, selected by random number generator, who wins a $25 gift card to Stacks Book Club in Oro Valley, AZ for her entry: Ella, Guarina, Muxie, Gladys, Bertha, and Dora!
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In Closing
As spring warms our hearts, let’s be mindful of beauty around us.
Wishing a Happy Easter to all who celebrate and Happy Reading!
Ashley