My friend Joanne passed away at one a.m. this morning, after being diagnosed with cancer a mere 2 weeks ago.
I met Joanne over 10 years ago while we were both writing for Examiner.com, an online magazine in which she wrote about children’s educational challenges, and I wrote about gardening in the southwest desert. She commented on a few of my articles, and soon we were chatting via regular email. At the time I was unemployed and newly divorced, desperately looking for work and something to fill my long days. Because of that long-term unemployment, I’d started writing a book; a memoir, called Summers of Fire. I told Joanne that I had no idea what I was doing…I’d never written a book before and had no idea if what I was writing was any good. Joanne expressed interest in my story, and as she was a retired English teacher, she offered to take a look at what I had written, willing to offer advice and guidance: I remember her saying later, “What you’ve got here is a good story, better than most of the junk out there. I can help you if you’d like.”
Soon after that, we discovered that we lived only 40 miles apart.
Our friendship began.
Joanne made a great editor. She didn’t mince words. She always told me straight out when a section needed work. She’d say, “You’re writing like a professor.” (Referencing my college paper writing experiences.) Or she’d say, “This is really blah,” offering ways to liven up the events while not changing the actual events. Joanne would also catch writing that she felt put me into a negative light. “You are making it look like you are this kind of person, and I know you are not.”
As my writing improved, sometimes I wouldn’t take her advice on certain aspects, but I always, always, gave the changes deep thought before accepting or rejecting. I always appreciated her feedback.
Joanne supported my efforts to find a publisher, and I know she was just as excited as I was when, after 2 long years of querying literary agents and publishers, I succeeded. After that book was handed off to my publisher, I started the prequel. Joanne was back onboard to help me with that book, too. But this time the focus was more on the storyline. She taught me well, for there were far less grammatical errors for her to fix.
Aside from helping me with my writing, Joanne also became a good friend. She grew to know me better than most people have or ever would—having read my journal entries and our discussions via email or on the phone. But our relationship went beyond my book(s). We also shared our lives, our joys and woes…her challenging family; my challenging business and life on my own. In addition, we went on a few outings. On a blustery and partly cloudy Christmas Day, we headed out to take photos of an area that I hoped would provide good material for my watercolor painting. My photos were mediocre, but several of her photos were spectacular (no surprise-she is a great photographer!) With her permission, I turned them into paintings.
Joanne loved clouds. I mean, she really loved clouds. I’ve done a bit of cloud gazing, but Joanne would often send me photos of interesting formations, telling me what she saw—anywhere from a dragon, to a whale…whatever. It didn’t matter. Once she pointed out her sighting I had to agree with her vision.
I remember how, for the first year or so, Joanne signed her emails, “Wishing you flowers,” often attaching a flower photo she took.
I am wishing you flowers in Heaven, Joanne. Lots and lots of beautiful flowers.
