The author of three previous novels, Jeanne Ray works as a registered nurse at the Frist Clinic in Nashville, Tennessee. She is married and has two daughters. Together, she and her husband have ten grandchildren. In this piece, she talks about how her daughter encouraged her to become a writer.
I worked as a nurse for 40 years, and yet my daughter Ann, who always knew she would be a writer, believed that I was a writer, too, and never failed to stand up for what she believed to be my talent. Once, when she was in second grade, her teacher asked her who her favorite poet was. "My mother," she answered without hesitation. And so it went. I always believed that Ann would be the famous writer she wanted to be, and she always believed that I could be one, too.
Ann went to Sarah Lawrence College, and then on to the Iowa Workshop for her Master's degree. I kept nursing. Don't misunderstand, I loved nursing, although it wasn't what I would have chosen had my parents not been products of the Great Depression. They believed that I should be trained to do something that was practical, useful, and could always get me a job. I thought I could quietly write poems on the side while looking smashing in a white uniform.
Ann made wonderful contacts in school, and learned the "craft" of writing. I was very proud of her.
With each novel, short story or essay, Ann became better and better known for not only her talent, but for her kindness and generosity. She was never out of touch with us, her family, and she still is not. She has a streak of love and belief in her that is difficult to explain.
As she grew into the writer she always believed she would be, I grew older of course, but increasingly desirous of writing a novel. It was 1998, the baby boomers had not yet arrived at the edge of old age, and magazines still had cover blurbs stating, "Sex, beauty and health at 30, 40, 50". I had just turned 60, and was the happiest I'd ever been. A good job, a great husband, a beautiful home. I hated not even being mentioned on the front of those magazines --- it was as if 60 didn't count any more. It really ate at me. I was still attractive and active, and I knew a lot of folks just like me. I had to write a novel about sixty somethings who fall in love.
My husband and I watched Romeo and Juliet one night on TV. That was my plot, only the leading characters would be in their sixties, and it would be their children and grandchildren who were giving them Hell. Julie's family would be Jewish, and Romeo's family would be Italian Catholics. And they would each own small flower shops in Somerville, MA. And the hatred would go back a long time.
So, once I pieced together the "facts" in my mind, writing the novel was not too hard. I wrote at night, as I was working during the day, and when I had enough of it written down, I asked Ann to read it. I was a nervous wreck by then. Ann always calls it as she sees it, and I knew she'd be painfully honest. But, she loved it! She made many technical suggestions, and I implemented them. And then she asked her agent to read my story! I was beyond elation.
The book went up for auction, and Random House bought it. Barbra Streisand bought movie rights.
I owe my daughter, Ann, everything about my writing. My whole family stood around me and cheered me on, but it was Ann who got me there. She makes me proud everyday, not only because of her personal success and talent, but because she is one of the nicest human beings I have ever met.
