My Fairy Godmother

Today marks a year without my editor, Jean Jenkins. To say it’s been a long year is an understatement. Her death came as a shock to me, and for months after she passed, I chatted with her, even argued with her about not telling me she was sick. There was so much I had left to say. Much like a child who can’t imagine mom or dad not being around, I fell into that trap with Jean and took her presence for granted. Finding out she was gone was a sharp kick in the gut that left a gaping wound in my heart

I met Jean probably fourteen years ago. As a newbie writer, I ventured to California to attend my first writers’ conference—knees shaking, heart-pounding, lip quivering little old me signed up for a one-on-one meeting with a real live editor, sharing the first ten pages of my very raw manuscript with her. When I walked into the conference meeting room, she sat a a large round table in the midst of other agent and editor meetings, waved her arms and invited me to sit down. I’ll never forget her welcoming smile, her warm persona or that hearty laugh of hers. She had the ability of making the rest of the world disappear when I was with her, partially because she knew so darned much and I wanted to absorb every bit of knowledge she had to share, and partially because she had a captivating personality. She was dedicated to writing. Truly a cheerleader for all of her proteges. And a fantastic master of story. That day, she offered to edit my first manuscript. She told me she took on one writer a year—as a mentor, and she chose me. You can imagine my elation. I actually jumped up and down when she told me, and I crowned her my Fairy Godmother from that day forward.

Over the years, JJ edited many of my books. She taught me invaluable lessons about writing, about conflict (which I have always shied/raced away from), and about the value of a trusted partner in the writer’s journey. There were plenty of times I was ready to quit. She wouldn’t let me. There were plenty of times I faced rejection and wanted to slink away with my tail between my legs. She wouldn’t hear of it. There were plenty of times life got in my way and I faltered. She made me get up, dust myself off, and get back to business. Truly, I can’t imagine writing without her. The positive part is, JJ is so engrained in me, I know how she would respond to my pages, my self-doubt, my crankiness, my everything.

i wrote a manuscript in 2018. Jean asked to read it. I hesitated because i knew it was rough, but I sent it to her anyway. She didn’t charge me a penny, just was curious what I was working on. She came back at me with an entire edit for the story, including five pages of notes about why the story wouldn’t work as I had structured it. At the time, I was too stubborn to read her comments, but I pulled that same manuscript out this summer, and thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Jean again. How fortunate am I that I put those pages aside for so long. And guess what? She was spot on.

Tomorrow is the release of Black Ice. Jean and I worked on this book for ages. Shopped it together, and made it right. I’ve dedicated Black Ice to JJ and will raise a glass to her tomorrow. I might shed a little tear too.

Whenever i write, I just picture my fairy godmother sitting on my shoulder, telling me when I’m not bumping my character up enough, not pacing the story well, making a story too difficult to write because I’m trying too hard. I’ll miss my breakfasts with her at the conference, miss her jolly emails from sunny San Diego, her wise words, her warm hugs and the feeling i always had when I was around her—I was good enough to be in this business. I miss you Jeannie. I hope you’re resting well.

Jean Jenkins ~ Editor Extraordinaire