Meeting my Irish Author

I'll always remember that night. 

I went alone, as I often did back in those days. 

Professor Sandra Manoogian Pearce had brought Irish author Edna O'Brien to Moorhead State University to read from her new novel HOUSE OF SPLENDID ISOLATION. 

 

It was October, 1995 and I had just bought a copy of the book at Zandbroz Variety, and O'Brien was going to do a signing after her reading. 

 

I arrived early to Weld Hall auditorium, where the event was taking place. I had not been there before, and I instantly loved its oldness and character. 

 

I settled in, and read from the book. I often will come very early to a venue to get a feel for the place before it comes alive with an audience. 

To hear Edna O'Brien read her own work was to forget where you were.

[Below is the rest of the interview shown above of Edna O'Brien, that was done the evening before the reading in Moorhead...]

Reading Aloud

I had my father make up (very good) stories on-the-fly many times he shared and acted out with various voices for me. 

I had out-loud reading done for me as a child, and later as an adult by family and friends. 

I read to my children entire books a chapter at a time, and have read short books to grandchildren. 


I have read to myself out loud many times just because it helped me understand the story better to HEAR it outside my head. Reading itself, speaking the words, is just FUN, too! 

I have read to other adults, in both reading theatre and to partners, entire books - it can be a very fun, social, and intimate activity!

Trivial Me

I Grew up in the oldest village in my state - St. Vincent, Minnesota.

But I was born in Emerson, Manitoba.

I am only 4 degrees of separation away from the Hillside Strangler serial killers.

I learned to read at 3 years old (and yes, I am a voracious reader who likes nothing better than to lose myself in a good book, fiction or non-fiction...)

I have moved over 27 times (so far).

It took me 50 years to find the love of my life.

I once met Vincent Price at a baggage carousel in LAX.

I once went at midnight to observe the annual grunion run at Huntington Beach, sponsored by a local marine museum; we waited, and when the guides saw them, we were told to turn on our flashlights; males wrapped themselves around females, which in turn laid their eggs in the sand; as quickly as they came ashore, they were gone.

A friend and I once rode our horses along with a wagon train for 10 miles, during the American Bicentennial.

Speaking of horses, I have been lucky enough to have ridden in the Rocky Mountains, along the shore of the Pacific Ocean, in the deserts of New Mexico, as well as my own home prairies.

After leaving a bad marriage, I became a single parent at age 25, went back to school at 27, sought and obtained a good government job at 29, bought my first house at 31, and bought my first new car at 33.

I left that good job after 23 years to follow a new dream, which brought me full circle, back to a rural life on a small hobby farm like the one I grew up on.

I grew up in the house my grandparents built, that my mother grew up in, and later me and my children lived in for 18 months with my parents while I began getting back on my feet.

I have a deep love for my home village and its surrounding villages, which are really one, big extended family (and many are related to one another...)

I love writing as much as reading - in fact, I daresay I may like it more. It is like breathing to me, necessary to my life, the ability to document and express, to create and to share. 

I have a deep passion for animals, and for several years dedicated my life to the goal of becoming a veterinarian. Life had other plans.

My best friend growing up was a cat named Dusty. He was a great mouser, who worked part-time as my alarm clock during the school year.

I nearly drowned when I was 4 years old. My mother and her friend took me to a swimming pool one hot summer day. They had me go in to the wading pool while they visited nearby. I somehow sneaked away to the big pool which I evidently thought looked much more fun. I slipped in holding the side, not knowing how to swim. A wave pulled me away and before I knew it, I was sinking, looking up at the sun through the water, the world going dark. Next thing I knew, my mother's friend was giving me mouth to mouth, then I was choking up water. She had just saved my life.

I used to play the piano fairly well, as an accompanist at my school, church, and as a soloist, including in competitions. 

I once had a grand mal seizure. 

I survived an 18-month bout of clinical depression by walking, writing, and with the help of two people - a very special friend, and my daughter.

Influences

One of the films that affected me deeply as a young woman, was the adaption of Ray Bradbury's FAHRENHEIT 451. I will never, ever forget how the society in the story tried to control every aspect of individuals' lives. Nor how a brave few fought against it, and resolved to choose free will and knowledge above conformity and ignorance. The final scene of the 'books' walking purposely through the woods of their sanctuary, reciting out loud their contents, has stayed with me to this day...

Before Dick and Jane

"Fun with Dick and Jane"

Dick and Jane.

I remember using this series of books in elementary school. I breezed through them, finding them fun but a bit boring and silly. I had already learned to read before attending school, thanks to my Mom, who felt it was important to provide good books for me to look at and learn from, from a very early age.  She subscribed to the Dr. Seuss books for me, and each month we'd received a 'large' thin box in the mail, and I would know another book had come for me!

I cannot remember which one I got first.  It might have been CAT IN THE HAT, or GREEN EGGS AND HAM.  At any rate, I remember my favorite - HORTON HATCHES AN EGG.  I always loved Horton, and felt he did a very honorable thing.  I did not like the jealous mother bird at all, feeling she wanted to take all the credit for doing none of the work!  Even then, I really got caught up in my stories.  I literally learned to read from being read to, and looking at the words as much as the pictures.  I knew that words have power, that stories transport, and I wanted to know the secret.  I wanted to know how to read! I cannot remember the details, but I remember being told what a word meant, the sounds of words, and between those hints, my own deductions based on observation and context, I began to understand the mystery of the written word.

Before any of that, however, there was my father.  He told great stories to me at bedtime, stories that he would make up as he went along.  I never knew what the stories were going to be about, and that made it all the better.  I was very young at the time, so I can't remember any of them.  But that's not the important thing anyways.  They made a lasting impression of me of how powerful words are, and when they are used skillfully and tell incredible stories, the stories take you with them.  I was hooked!

Thus, when I started school, I had a head start.  I absorbed it all as fast as I could because I couldn't wait to read more.  And more.  And MORE!