Ellen – home for my late-in-life writer’s persona. Under her direction I found inspiration, motivation, skills and discipline. Thursdays were sacred, and I didn’t dare arrive late to her and Victor’s apartment.
Her stream-of-consciousness takes on the “first word” were often humorous, even wild, showing me how to loosen up the pen in hand and take off in flights of fancy. Ellen’s fanciful flights led to stories about Claude, the elephant with a pink scarf, and Agnes, the dissatisfied housewife who grew wings, turning into a liberated chicken.
Encouraging yet disciplined. She inspired and urged us to write and publish two anthologies, one a prize winner. Generous. She gave her time to help struggling writers. We were honored to help edit her memoir, “Jinxed” about her years in Indonesia.
I once joined her hiking group for a trek in the hills of Lo Barnechea. She hiked like she wrote – determined, disciplined. I would stop to check out the vegetation and the birds, then had to scurry to catch up.
I don’t know if she finished “Lest I Forget”, about her early years in Canada. Those stories left me wanting to hear more. Ellen’s memory continues to be the motor of the Santiago Writers, still churning out stories and songs after twenty plus years.
Thank you, Ellen. Writing is always on my mind, my bookshelves overflowing with “first word” scribbles, travel journals, copies of two published memoirs and my blog, “Tarweed Spirit”.
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