All in the Family
I opened up the newspaper this morning, the Worcester Telegram & Gazette which I must mention by name as my husband is a reporter for said newspaper, and I read a wonderful story about a former teacher from my high school and his daughter. Now for those of you who went to school with me I highly suggest following the link at the bottom so that you can read the entire article. It was a great piece by reporter Richard Duckett and is worthy of a few minutes of your time :)
Anyway, this teacher, John Hodgen, was the teacher that everyone wanted to have - there was one in every school - and Mr. Hodgen taught creative writing. He was one of those teachers who inspired his students (which is no small feat with teenagers) and to add to his cache he was a published author. I always wanted to take one of his classes, but it was never meant to be. I had friends who gushed about his classes, who shared beautiful pieces of prose and poetry - and, yes, I'm still jealous. I mean, who knows. Maybe I'd have published my first book already if I had had such instruction . . .
So now he's published three books of poetry (two of which I have already added to my wishlist at Amazon.com so I don't forget to check them out at the library) and his daughter, Christie Hodgen, has now published her first novel which follows a collection of short stories she published a couple of years ago. She is also currently being highlighted by the Barnes and Noble "Discover Great New Writers series" . . . Man, some families have all the luck :)
But seriously, I'm happy for both of them and shall try to use them as examples of what CAN happen - afterall, we grew up in the same town, went to the same high school and had the same English teachers (except for Mr. Hodgen!).
If you're interested, both authors' books can be found on Amazon.com and John Hodgen's poetry is both powerful and elegant (this coming from someone who isn't an avid poetry reader). Once I read Christie's book I'll be sure to review it, too.
So congrats to a couple of fellow Shrewsburyians . . . and I will continue to ask myself not "Why me?" but "Why not me?"