The Last Question

Julie asked: Tell me about your writing background. How did you become interested? What kind of stuff have you had published? What are you working on right now?

I'm having the nicest day with my kids all home, but have not yet answered the final question. Everyone is home and I am so glad. I just finished making a big batch of pasta with marinara and bechamel sauce, and a big batch of cookies.

Everyone has been singing Santa Lucia at the top of their lungs in honor of Jacob, and we've watched a Marx Brothers Movie, and now we're watching What's Up, Doc. Jacob just walked in and grabbed two cookies and started laughing because of Eunice. The kids are on the couches in the family room laughing, and I am at the kitchen table attempting to answer the final question, and hoping Julie is still interested.

I've wanted to be a writer since I was in 8th grade. I had an English teacher who no one liked, but who was kind to me. Mrs. Eklund was severe and strict, but she was one of my favorite teachers. We were assigned to keep a journal for 2 weeks, and I had already kept a journal since I was 10 years old because my mother had us write in our journals every Sunday. If we wrote in our journal we could earn a candy bar. ( I recently wrote a story about this, sent it off to The Friend, and am waiting to see if they want it. ) My english teacher said that I could just write the two week assignment in my own journal and turn that journal into her.

When I got my journal back she had given me an A+ and had gone through my entire journal. She read everything I wrote, and commented in red ink on many of the entries. I was so surprised by this and she had me stay after class to talk to her. She had many nice things to say about the things I had written, and her kind words and encouragement have never been forgotten.

Once I got to high school, I took every english class offered. I would drop out of math classes and pick up extra english classes. I also took 2 semesters of Creative Writing at night at Rio Hondo college, just for fun. My senior year, Mike and I had an english class together, which was even funner, and the teacher always listed the names of her students who had written the best story, or gotten the highest grade on the board. She would list them from each of her classes, and the thing that was so funny and awful to me, was that she would write my name in big letters on the chalkboard under the title of, "Top Banana." Top Banana! I hate bananas. I always have and still do. Mike knew this, too, and so it was always funny to us, and a litle bit gross to me that I'd get to be the Top Banana. She was a funny teacher, and she entered a couple of my stories in contests. But, I never won!

The only thing I learned from high school, was to write and type. That's it. The rest was a bore to me, and I only got through it by propping my books up behind a school book and reading my way through classes. Some of the teachers were jerks about it and would take my book away from me for the entire day and not give it back to me until school ended, but a lot of teachers would just ignore me and let me read. Typing was the best skill I learned in high school and I spent a couple years in typing class typing away at my stories and writing sequels to Gone With The Wind which I was certain I was destined to write becaused Margaret Mitchell and I had the same birthday.

Years later, after getting married and having four kids, I went back to school. The first story I wrote, my teacher had published in the school newspaper. She also told me to submit it to some of the local papers in my area, so I did. Four newspapers picked up the editorial and published it on their Opinion Page. It was a great feeling, and it made some money, and the next thing I knew The Orange County Register had me come down and have my picture taken. They published my editorials regularly, and I continued doing freelance work with four or five different newspapers. I submitted some of my work to magazines. Grit Magazine or Reminisce magazine even accepted and paid me for my work,but in the end they didn't publish it because they thought I was older. I was 29 years old at the time.


I continued going to school for a few semesters and then had two more babies. The Littles Joined The Original Four to make a grand total of six, and suddenly there was no time for writing, only laundry. When Erin Leigh went to first grade, I started writing again, and was offered a job as a columnist for The Opinion Page of The Californian newspaper. The editor there liked my work, and hired me on. I wrote for The Californian for a year, but got tired of trying to come up with community issues to write about.


Since then, I have been working on my books, and sending out essays and editorials. I have two novels I am trying to get written. I started writing one but it turned into another one, so now I have two sets of characters and events to sort through. I've written a few community forum pieces for the newspaper without pay, and am considering returning to being an Opinion Page columnist again.


This I'm afraid is another tangent, but I think the two strongest influences on me with writing have been reading and my mother. Mom always read to us, took us to the library, and gave us our own books with something kind written in them for our birthdays and for Christmas. Mom was always writing plays for church, poetry and articles for the religion page of The Whittier Daily News. She would get her own by-line, too. Mom has always taken copious notes, written meaningful letters, and kept a number of journals. It seems perfectly natural, and a natural progression for me to become a writer.

I also have to add a word about Dad here. Dad filled the house with his books,too and from an early age told me to read the newspaper, which I did. He shared Erma Bombeck's column with me, and told me to read Ann Landers. My days at Renox were full of specific articles he cut out and posted with yellow post it's for me to read. He shared The Wall Street Journal, Newsweek, and also a newsletter full of interesting stories and funny cartoon pictures. At Renox, I was responsible for writing their quarterly Newsletter and one time I used something from the newsletter he gave me and got into copyright issues.

Erin has told me many times she thinks I have the personality of a writer from stem to stern, and I tend to think she is right. Erin has patiently read endless letters, and has always supported me and thought I could become a writer. I still have yet to really do it, but she has always believed I could.

When something funny happens Laurie always tells me to be sure and put that in my book, and Mary Kate has laughed at many ridiculous letters, too. So have Heidi and Catherine. Everyone has been a supportive audience and continues to read my hypergraphically long posts. I still carry a note with me in my wallet from Mom which has my name in large letters and underneath it, "she has a story to tell."

Truman Capote once said, "Anyone who gives you confidence, you owe them a lot." And psychologists say that the surest way to develop confidence is to surround yourself with people who love and respect you. I have had this from my family, and from my sisters.

And of course, from Mike, who I recently asked what I should do, as far as helping our family survive financially. He looked at me seriously and then quietly and kindly said, "I want you to write your book." And just hearing that, knowing that, and even writing it now, is enough to bring tears to my eyes, and leaves me thinking, "I hope I do."