A Brush with Greatness by Jenn McKinlay

Firstly, Happy Veterans Day! To all those who've served, we thank you for your service and your sacrifice.

JENN McKINLAY: The only Malice Domestic conference I've ever been to was in 2012. It's very difficult to get to Bethesda from Phoenix - two flights and a train - but on that particular year, Elizabeth Peters, aka Barbara Mertz, was going to be there and I knew if I was ever going to meet my childhood idol, this was it. 

Elizabeth Peters, aka Barbara Mertz

There were several events, all of which were standing room only crowds. Ms. Mertz was everything I thought she'd be and more - smart, funny, kind, and with a wicked twinkle in her eye. I was thrilled just to be in the same room with her. When she left, being assisted by an escort, she walked right by my table. 
This was my moment! I sprang out of my seat and accosted her -- as one does -- and she didn't rear back in horror but instead smiled at me as I stood there incapable of saying a word. Me. Without speech. Inconceivable! 

Finally, I choked out a "thank you" and she looked at me, opened her arms for a hug and said, "No, thank you."
At which I cried all over her, like a big dope. So that was my moment with the author without whose work I likely  
never would have become a writer.

So, how about you, Reds? What was your brush with author greatness?

RHYS BOWEN: I’m always rather embarrassed when a fan comes up to me and does the whole fangirl thing. I’ve had one woman rush away and burst into tears (am I that scary?).  But then one day at a conference I found myself sitting at the signing table next to Tony Hillerman. And I’m screaming to myself “I’m sitting next to Tony Hillerman!” And I turn to him and gush “I love your books!”  I wish I could have told him that I only started writing mysteries because of him, but I could hardly get out those four words. So we all have our fangirl moments.

HALLIE EPHRON: The most ‘in awe’ I’ve ever been was when I ended up seated beside Jane Smiley at an event in Steinbeck country in California. I’d just read MOO and A THOUSAND ACRES and been blown away. All I remember is she was very nice and SERIOUSLY tall. Also at the table was Karen Joy Fowler, assuming I'm not mixing up my events. I’d read her amazing mystery novel, Wit’s End. I wanted to slow down time.

Jane Smiley

JENN: Tall girls rule, just sayin'

Lucy with Ann Cleeves 

LUCY BURDETTE: I have fawned over too many people to mention, I am definitely fan girl material. Maybe the first time was Diane Mott Davidson and was she at Malice? I remember that she signed the book I bought to both my sister and to me. The first Bouchercon I ever attended, where I knew absolutely no one and was totally petrified and deeply unpublished, I had a lovely chat with Stephen White. Do you remember his series about a psychologist detective in Boulder Colorado? Love that character! And Michael Connelly more than once... You know what also was very cool was having Margaret Maron moderate the best first novel panel at malice domestic. Remember that Julia?? She was wonderful.  

JENN: I just got this pic of Lucy with Ann Cleeves from the new England Crime Bake this weekend. She really is a fangirl!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Lucy, meeting Margaret Maron at the Malice Domestic where you and I were Best First nominees was my fangirl moment. She was one of my writing idols, and one of two authors whose work seriously influenced my own when I was starting out (the other being Archer Mayor.) It was SUCH a thrill having her moderate the panel we were on, but I'm not sure I even spoke to her privately, then. I didn't want to pester the great woman.

Then, that evening, I was sitting in the bar (as one does) and she came by, squeezed my shoulder, and said, "I really loved your book." I can't recall what I said - probably something like "A buh bub a bubba uh." When we went up to our hotel room that evening, I told Ross, "Don't touch that shoulder. That's Margaret Maron's shoulder." 

Photo from stacybuckeye.com

I got a chance to make it up in a more eloquent way, however, in 2012, when I was invited to contribute to Books To Die For – The World’s Greatest Mystery Writers on the World’s Greatest Mystery Novels. I wrote an appreciation of Bootlegger's Daughter. I still haven't nerved myself to ask her to sign it, though.

Hank with Sue Grafton

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Yikes, I just got back from Bouchercon, when I interviewed James Patterson. And I have to say, he was adorable. Charming, funny, brash, and generous--and a real troublemaker---in a good way. Everyone adored him. I've interviewed Dan Brown, also terrific, engaging and quite brilliant. But in my writer/reader heart? Once I was signing next to Jane Langton. I almost could not breathe, she made such a difference in my life with her A Diamond in the Window. But the best of the best may have been at Crimebake in..2009? When I felt a tap on my shoulder, turned around, and there was SUE GRAFTON holding Prime Time--and asking for MY autograph! Can you even imagine? I was so lucky that someone got a photo of that moment--and here it is. It still makes me smile.  

DEBORAH CROMBIE:  At what I think must have been my very first Malice, my then-editor introduced me to Reginald Hill (She edited the US versions of his books.) All I could manage to squeak out was, "I love your books, Mr. Hill," and I'm sure I must have sounded like a complete dope. But he is still one of the writers I most admire, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to meet him.

And then there was P.D. James, who I had the honor to share a program with at St. Hilda's mystery conference in Oxford. I acquitted myself a bit better, but she was so sharp and witty and I was undoubtedly the gauche American.  She was also, however, unfailingly gracious and didn't make me feel too big an idiot. What an icon she was.

(Jenn, I was also a huge fan of Barbara Mertz in all her guises, and I LOVE that photo of her.)

JENN: Hank I was a huge fan of Jane Langton as a kid and A Diamond in the Window was FANTASTIC!

So, what about you, Readers, what are your crazy fan moments?

The Time Has Come

INGRID THOFT

This is a bittersweet post for me to write, but it’s time to let you know that I'm hanging up my red, leopard print pashmina in the coming weeks and leaving Jungle Red.  This was not an easy decision to make, and it was driven by a lack of time—not enthusiasm—for the blog and the JRW community.  My nearly two years as part of this amazing group of women has been terrific, and I look forward to transitioning to the role of enthusiastic fan.
 

The blog has introduced me to so many wonderful writers, offered travel tips, book recommendations, and a respite from the bad news that seems to be ever-present.  It also gave me the chance to pick the brains of writers I love and share that with readers.  Chevy Stevens, Nick Petrie, David Joy, Meg Gardiner, Linda Fairstein, and Carla Buckley are just some of the writers who answered my questions and yours.

This will come as no surprise, but the Jungle Red Writers are a group of funny, smart, supportive women who have enriched my life.  Behind-the-scenes, if someone is overwhelmed or life throws her a curve ball, the others step in seamlessly and offer support and guidance.  Having technical difficulties with a post?  Someone will wrestle with Blogger and fix the problem.  Frustrated with your publisher? The Reds will chime in with their horror stories and offer you advice.  A family crisis?  They’re on it.  As one of four daughters and an alumna of a women’s college, I’ve spent my life in groups of terrific women:  Jungle Red Writers is one of the best.

Lastly, the Jungle Red readers are an extraordinary bunch.  Thoughtful, perceptive, smart, encouraging—you all are an integral part of this blog.  Your comments are insightful and funny, and your fierce loyalty is without compare.  I am a better writer and reader for having spent time with all of you.

This is the last day I’m in charge of the blog, but I’m not disappearing; I’ll still be a Red for a couple more weeks.  Then I will be out of touch on a long-planned scuba diving and snorkeling trip in the South Pacific.  Barring an unplanned shark encounter, I’ll be back after Thanksgiving and checking in regularly as a fan.  Thanks to all of you for making this a wonderful experience.

Hallie Ephron remembers Sandra Dee in ME, MY HAIR, AND I

HALLIE EPHRON: When I started seriously writing, I took a class in essay writing. One of our first assignments was “The History of My Hair.” So when my pal, the wonderful writer Elizabeth Benedict, asked if I’d like like to contribute an essay to an anthology about our obsessions with our hair, I enthusiastically signed up.

I took that early-early piece, along with other musings I’ve written since on the subject of my hair, and worked them into an essay I call “Remembering Sandra Dee.” It’s about how I used to cut out photos from movie magazines and beg the hairdresser to cut my hair like that. And how my aspirations for my hair probably short-circuited my accomplishments as an athlete.

 

My new essay is in stellar company in Elizabeth Benedict’s extraordinary anthology, Me, My Hair, and I: Twenty-seven Women Untangle an Obsession (Algonquin), which was just named PEOPLE Magazine’s pick of the week.

Here are just a few quotes from the essays in it;

Jane Smiley: All I knew was, the hairstyle that I chose from the styling book was called Femme Fatale. Or maybe it was Harlot.

Siri Hustvedt: We are the only mammals who braid, knot, powder, pile up, oil, spray, tease, perm, color, curl, straighten, augment, shave off, and clip our hair.

Deborah Feldman: Eventually I threw away my wigs. I abandoned the community that had forced me to wear them.

Suleika Joauad: Chemotherapy is a take-no-prisoners stylist.

Marita Golden: Black women’s hair is knotted and gnarled by issues of race, politics, history, and pride.

Anne Lamott: Dreadlocks make people wonder if you’re trying to be rebellious. It’s not as garbling and stapled as a tongue stud, say, or as snaky as tattoos.

Emma Gilbey Keller: “Your hair is so thick,” my grandmother used to tell me with a curled-lip emphasis that immediately turned the statement into an insult.

Deborah Tannen: Another woman told me that after she appeared on television standing behind the president of the United States in a bill-signing ceremony, her mother’s comment was, “I could see you didn’t have time to cut your bangs.”

Maria Hinojosa: …when I was asked to anchor my own show, I was told to tie my hair back and make its distinctiveness disappear. I think they wanted me to be a Latina Talbots model.

My essay begins:

It's 1958 and I'm ten years old, a skinny kid, all elbows and knees, a long face with big eyes under furry caterpillar eyebrows, sitting on a stack of telephone books in the chair at Mr. Latour's Beauty Salon, where my mother gets her hair done once a week. I've come here often with her, but this is the first time Mr. Latour is cutting my hair. …

“Can you cut it like this?” I ask. I show Mr. Latour a picture of June Allyson that I've cut from a magazine. She's a fresh-faced blond with short, curly bangs and a perfect pageboy.

Here’s me and the stars whose looks I aspired to imitate.

So fess up, when you were growing up, whose picture did you bring to the hairdresser, and did it ever come out the way you wanted it? Men, did you aspire to Elvis’s forelock? Warren Beatty’s mutton chops.

ME, MY HAIR, AND I: TWENTY-SEVEN WOMEN UNTANGLE AN OBSESSION goes on sale today, an original paperback and an ebook! Events in NYC this week, Cambridge MA on Oct. 5 and Wash DC Oct. 13. Check out Elizabeth Benedict's blog for more information. the sched. on my blog: http://ElizabethBenedict.blogspot. #LoveYourHair

On Mentors, Muses & Monsters

We all remember that special person who encouraged our writing and, of course, the one who shut us down. Then there was the individual whose work inspired us to reach higher. Author Elizabeth Benedict (photo by Emma Dodge Hanson) would call these our “mentors, muses, and monsters”

Who influenced the amazing Joyce Carole Oates? Or Mary Gordon? Or Michael Cunningham? Or Jane Smiley? Readers can find out in Elizabeth’s new collection of essays, “Mentors, Muses & Monsters: 30 Writers on the People Who Changed Their Lives.” The collection also contains Elizabeth’s own essay, “Why Not Say What Happened?” in which she writes about her college tutorial teacher, esteemed woman of letters, Elizabeth Hardwick.

JRW: Elizabeth, what inspired you to write this book?

EB: I was asked to write a remembrance of Hardwick after she died (December 2008) for Tin House magazine. The night I sent it in, I was floating around my apartment, feeling particularly good, not just that I'd finished it but that I got to express my appreciation for what she'd meant to me when I was a college kid with nothing but a crazy ambition.

In that dreamy mood, I idly wondered if there was a book of essays about fiction writers and their mentors and went to Amazon to look - and there wasn't. An hour later, I'd cooked up the title -the 3 M's, as I call it - and the next day I invited Mary Gordon. She said yes right away. So did most of the other people I invited. I was stunned by how many people said yes, sometimes even before they knew whom they'd write about.

JRW: What were some of the revelations in these essays that surprised you?

EB: First of all, I expected everyone to write about a person, but many people wanted to write about a book or an author, dead or alive, and some wanted to write about a place or a transformative period. When Jane Smiley went to the Iowa Writers' Workshop in the 1970s, she was more inspired by her classmates than her teachers. Her piece, about them and the mood in 1974, is a lovely piece of personal and social history. Joyce Carol Oates wrote about what "Alice in Wonderland" means to her. In the 1970s, Sigrid Nunez was the girlfriend of Susan Sontag's son and lived in an apartment with both mother and son, and has a particularly intimate view of Sontag. I was surprised by the incredible variety of influences, from "Mrs. Dalloway" to "Harriet the Spy."

But mostly I was surprised by how seriously writers took the assignment. I knew the essays would be good, with this group of writers, but had no idea they would all give so much to these pieces. As you read, you can feel the engagement, the writers' determination to get every nuance right; it's exhilarating and very moving.

I came to understand that the relationship you have with a mentor is among the most powerful there is. That person noticed you when you were young and lost and said, "I think you've got talent, and here's what to do with it." We're lucky if that happens to us once! Falling in love and giving birth (so I've heard) are pretty powerful experiences. I think the mentor/influence connections - in their power to changes lives - are up there with those.

JRW: Were there any common threads?

EB: Writers are a cranky bunch who are prone to worry and complaining, but this subject seems to have opened the spigots of gratitude. For the most part, the writers were obsessed with their mentors.

Alexander Chee's piece about studying with Annie Dillard at Wesleyan is so full of detail and dialogue - from twenty years ago! - that it's like taking a course with Dillard, and a course in obsession: "By the time I was done studying with Annie," he writes, "I wanted to be her."

Cheryl Strayed is obsessed from afar with Alice Munro, in part because they both had mothers who died young. I've read this line in her essay a dozen times and it still breaks my heart with its vulnerability and longing: "I love Alice Munro, I took to saying, the way I did about any number of people I didn't know whose writing I admired, meaning, of course, that I loved her books.... But I loved her too, in a way that felt slightly ridiculous even to me."

JRW: Sounds like you've got more mentors than monsters.

EB: That surprised me too. The only full-blown one is in Edmund White's portrait of Harold Brodkey. There are a few other people whose behavior has monstrous moments, including a wicked step-mother. I expected there'd be someone who said, "Writing well is the best revenge for having been treated badly," but even Edmund White felt that Brodkey had been helpful to him as a writer. These writers clearly wanted to accentuate the positive - because they feel immense gratitude to the person who showed them the way.

JRW: Will you be out and about, promoting the book?

EB: I'll be on the pavement and on-line. If you're in New York City, Cambridge, MA, or DC, there'll be an event near you in November or early December. For details, visit the blog at http://mentorsmusesmonsters.blogspot.com/ where there'll also be some on-line chatting once the book comes out, and a few books to give away.

JRW: So, Jungle Red readers, tell us about your muses, mentors and monsters? Elizabeth will be responding to comments and questions. Please, join in the discussion.