In his book “On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft,” author Stephen King wrote: “Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot of difference. They don’t have to make speeches. Just believing is usually enough.”
Although that advice might have been intended for fiction writers like King, having a cheerleader along the way is a blessing for opinion writers, too. And learning to find humor in the tiniest of things, particularly at our own expense, can be the best remedy for the loneliness King describes — a feeling most of us experience from time to time, whether we’re writers or not.
Upon returning from a destination wedding in Texas last month, I was saddened to see an obituary for Ann Mandelstamm. She was a frequent contributor of letters to the editor at the Post-Dispatch. In 2010, the newspaper featured her artichoke rice salad recipe and her philosophy about organizing dinner parties: “You can only have six people ... More than six people and you have more than one conversation. And I don’t want to miss anything.”
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More importantly to me, Ann was a person who had described herself as my “biggest fan.”
I never met Ann or talked to her in person, but our frequent email exchanges after many of my columns endeared her to me. She became the cheerleader I’d missed since the death of my mother in 2009 and the loss of another good friend in 2022. Luckily, I saved most of Ann’s correspondence for future inspiration.
Many of us were blessed with a parent or parents who supported even the most unrealistic of our dreams. And often there were teachers who encouraged us to try artistic things, or who recognized our talents in other subjects like math or science.
But as time goes on, sometimes these supporters are no longer there. This is when a cheerleader can be a lifesaver.
You don’t need (nor should you listen to) an entire fan club. And as writers, especially opinion writers, you’ll undoubtedly get haters and trolls. But a cheerleader, especially one who shares their knowledge and experience, is invaluable. This is what Ann did for me. She was critical when she needed to be, but supportive too.
One thing we agreed upon was the need to laugh at ourselves. Even in the most trying of times, finding laughter allows you to ignore the criticism that inevitably occurs when you express yourself in print.
Hence my reason, above, for mentioning a destination wedding.
Before November, I had not been on an airplane in more than 20 years, mainly because life got in the way. It was difficult to leave home while being the sole caregiver for three extreme seniors.
Now that they have passed, however, the possibility of attending a wedding where the two flower girls (ages 90 and 92) were the grandmothers of the couple promised to be an adventure, one too funny to miss. As expected, there were several incidents of hilarity.
Silence has never been my friend, which was unnerving because the bedrooms of our Airbnb had no television. So as I started to pack for the next day’s trip home, I placed my cell phone on the floor to charge and fired up an episode of “9-1-1” on the phone’s Hulu app.
Later, I had most of my clothes packed when suddenly I couldn’t find my phone.
I panicked, knowing my boarding pass was on the phone — a technology that I hadn’t experienced when last I flew.
My thoughts raced. Had I left it in the restroom or the reception hall at the venue, a place more than 30 minutes away along dark windy roads? Had I left it in the rental car? Had I dropped it somewhere in between?
I removed everything I had packed. I dumped everything out of my purse and out of the jacket pockets. I was about to search the rental car.
In the midst of this panic, as if on cue, I suddenly heard what sounded to me like the ominous music from the film “Jaws” — the scenes where the shark was approaching.
Turns out it was coming from my phone, which was still on the floor, where I’d left it. The “9-1-1” episode was still playing on the phone. A character on the show was trying to land a plane ... to a backdrop of suspenseful music.
I went next door to my friend’s room to share my senior moment. We had a big laugh. I believe Ann would have enjoyed that laugh, too.
Although I will miss her lively, informative and encouraging reviews, I was happy to read that Ann appeared to have had a long and fulfilling life. She’d been a high school teacher for 35 years in the Ladue schools, was the mother of three, grandmother of four, a volunteer for numerous causes and apparently had a great artichoke rice salad recipe. My biggest fan or not, I was very fortunate to have had her as a cheerleader.
