Blog Posts by Susan Egner
Inspirations, thoughts by Minnesota author and flight attendant
Most readers associate me with my eBook mystery and romance novels; but as I mentioned in an earlier blog (September 24), my first publishing experience was in the traditional printed medium with my “Has Anyone Seen Woodfin?” books and life-size characters. On October 17, I was privileged to visit the classroom of nationally recognized Speech-Language Pathologist, Social Skill Teacher and ASD Staff Trainer Jill Kuzma who uses my Woodfin stories with her students. As Jill tells it, “one of my own precocious little 1st grade students asked where the author lived. Of course, I turned to the back flap of the book cover to find out. Well, you can only imagine my excitement to learn that Susan Egner lived less than 5 miles from my school!! It took me all of about 8 seconds to hop on my email to contact her! Susan Egner was so gracious and excited to come meet my students the following week and shared a fabulous visit with my special group of kids – complete with Woodfin costumes, an interactive program, and most importantly – she fostered the excitement my students had about meeting a “real” author and reinforcing the message to “be your true self.”
You can read the rest of the story on Jill’s blog under the caption: Meet Woodfin!!! A children’s book to promote social self-confidence and celebrate individuality… Jill continues, “These books are a wonderful addition to any literary library – they can be used to support social/emotional skills as I do in my work, but there are also solid character and setting elements, with a clear story structure to use as an anchor text to teach literacy skills. Check out the Woodfin website at: http://www.woodfin.cc/books.htm “
I encourage my readers to read more on Jill’s Blog at http://jillkuzma.wordpress.com and to “Like” her on Facebook at this link: https://www.facebook.com/kuzmaslp
When I turned 15, I discovered boys and forgot all about my desire to own a horse. To make it even worse, I fell for the president of the sophomore boys in my high school class. And surprise of all surprises, he fell for me. Wow! He was without a doubt the most popular boy in our class. He was also very nice. Though my parents weren’t thrilled about my going steady, they really liked him. Everyone did.
I spent a lot of solo time in my bedroom writing romantic dribble. It was ghastly; but at the time, I was pouring out the heart of a girl who was experiencing love for the first time. It was a love I can still feel today. I guess you never get over that very first love.
Our house was at the bottom of a hill, one house from the St. Johns River, where the street ended in a small circle so cars could turn around. My bedroom was on the upstairs corner of the house looking up the hill. Seated on my bed, I could watch everything going on in our one-block neighborhood. And I wrote about it. Even today, I could write a whole book about life on Mallory Street, believe me.
I mentioned that the street ended at the river’s edge, which is just another definition for lovers’ lane. Teenagers who were old enough to drive quite often parked there. Some of the kids on my block and I would sneak down to take a peek. I was shocked and titillated by what was going on in those cars. Remember, my teenage years fell just a few years short of the sexual revolution. Having a solid respect, combined with a little bit of fear, for my father, I knew I would never be parked at the end of my street…or anywhere, for that matter.
But was it ever fun to conjure up the possibilities on paper! The very thought of some of the things I wrote still makes me blush, which by today’s standards, would hardly merit mention. Writing was my answer to some heady emotions that would eventually play themselves out.
September 30
I think I made the decision to become a writer in the 7th grade. My closest friend at the time, now a published poet, also wanted to be a writer. However, I had one desire that surpassed my desire to write and that was to own my own horse. At the time, I went horseback riding almost every day in the summer with my friend. She had a wonderful quarter horse named “Shorty” on which we rode double.
Not far from the stable was Mr. Tippit’s ranch. He bought and sold horses and always had about 30 or 40 in his pasture. He told us, “If you can catch it, you can ride it.” For free was understood—and that was music to our ears! It usually took us between three and four hours to catch a horse and then another hour to brush all the dirt and burrs from its coat and mane. Picture this in the summer heat of Florida. But it was worth it. That gave us at least another five hours; and if we were lucky and my father was picking us up after work, we’d have six hours to ride. It was like owning our own horse. Some days, however, we never caught a horse.
Anyway, many of the magazines published for kids our age seemed to understand a 13-year-old girl’s love for horses because they were always offering writing contests. The winner would win a thoroughbred. That was beyond our wildest dreams and all the incentive we needed!
The first year, Dash detergent sponsored the contest, and we both won (a supply of Dash detergent)! The next year Ipana toothpaste was the sponsor, and we both won again (a supply of Ipana toothpaste)! The last year we entered, a patriotic organization sponsored the contest; and, you guessed it, we both won…an American flag.
I never won my horse, but I did win a permanent passion for writing.