Connections Are Magical

Writing has given me many gifts.

The most important one has been the number of wonderful people I have gotten to meet as a result of putting words to paper.

The lovely face above belongs to Kylee Clarke. Stunner.

Ms. Clarke is the daughter of Renee Clarke. The lovely face below. Great genes.

Renee is a charming person I have met through my writing. We connected in a writers group on X (back when it was called Twitter). Renee wasn’t a writer (although she could be, she has the talent, and her Dad – Jim Karn – wrote a couple of children’s books) who so impressed me with her posts that we became online buddies. She read my books and shared such interesting insights that I invited her into my inner circle of readers when I was going to write Where The Ley Lines Meet. I also made her a central character in that book.

The Clarke family are from North Dakota. They are an example of what’s right with this country.

Now Ms. Clarke is a traveling RN, who presently is working in Denver.

She mentioned to her mother over the weekend that she was going to make a pilgrimage North to Mike O’Shay’s to see the Literary Book Shelf. You see, her grandfather’s inscribed books are members of the club. Her mom mentioned it to me, so I offered to meet up with her yesterday.

I got there a little early so I could mention the pending visit to my dear friend Lonnie Bell (a fine Scottish surname), the manager of MOS and the person who created the Literary Bookshelf. That bookshelf now holds inscribed books from writers from all over the world. It’s become a thing.

Lonnie made sure that Jim Karn’s children’s books were prominently displayed.

I then sat at Lisa and my favorite table by the front glass doors and waited for Ms. Clarke to arrive. I had a photo from her Mom, so I figured I would spot her coming down the avenue. I glanced across the street at the marquee of the Longmont Theatre, and immediately spotted a cheeky message from my mystical and magical maternal grandmother, Bridey “Nana” Burke (yep, the one from The Claire Saga).

Nana was irreverent – I had to get it from somewhere – and she could always make me laugh.

A moment later, who comes walking out from the back of the restaurant but Lonnie Bell, leading a beautiful young woman carrying a glass of white wine towards my table. It seems that Ms. Clarke had entered the restaurant through its back entrance, having parked in the more convenient lot out back.

After a polite introduction, wherein Lonnie explained he had overheard Ms. Clarke mentioning the Bookshelf to one of the staff, we directed her to Mecca where I captured her seeing her grandfather’s books on the MOS Literary Bookshelf.

We then enjoyed a wonderful conversation over a meal. This young woman ticked all the boxes. A college athlete (like my daughter, Jackie), turned professional (a nurse like Lisa), with a penchant for travel (like all of my children). She was enchanting. Confident. Poised. I only wish I could have summoned a single member of the next generation of McCaffrey’s Clan I could introduce her to. She is instant DIL material.

We talked about her siblings, Dad and Mom. She shared how much she loved her home town in ND, but also how much she knew she wanted to see the world. She shared that she got her wanderlust from her Mom.

We talked about her work (as an ER Nurse) and travels (France, Belgium and Spain) – Belgium chocolate really is to die for – my books (always a pleasure for me), how I met her mother, and then we compared notes of our experience with the city of Paris. When she asked what was my most memorable moment in the City of Lights, I recounted the time when Lisa listened to me read the entire posthumously published version of Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast while dining on wine, bagets and fruit one sunny afternoon sitting along the quay of the Seine. Paris stirred my dormant desire to write, but it was sixteen years later before I ever sat down at my keyboards and typed those first words of TWA. One of the top entries on my bucket list is to someday see The Claire Saga on the shelves of Shakespeare & Co.

Anyway, after a delightful meal, Sadie, our lovely server, snapped a photo of Ms. Clarke, me and Jim Karn’s books to memorialize the meeting.

Longmont’s feast may have been stationary, but it was wonderful.

Ms. Clarke, if you read this, I wish you and your wonderful family nothing but a magical life. Go n-éirí leat!

Yesterday did have its notably sad moment, as earlier that day I had learned through the Irish grapevine that the great seanchaí Malachy McCourt had passed at 92.

The extent of my connection with MM was tenuous and brief. He was a dear friend and literary mentor of my dear friend and literary mentor, Colin Broderick (who gave me the “Grisham on Mushrooms” cover blurb for TWA). At the Manhattan B&N reading of Colin’s second memoir, That’s That (which was actually read that night by CB’s dear friend Josh Brolin), I got a moment to chat with MM at the back of the crowded room. He was charming and when I mentioned that my son, Luke, had written a novel, he gave me his address and told me to send it along for him to read – “As we always need to help the young ones.”

MM was a prolific writer, whose brother, Frank, had set the world on fire with Angela’s Ashes. But I equally enjoyed MM’s memoir, A Monk Swimming.

I remember watching MM play the Irish gangster to the hilt in Ash Wednesday with Ed Burns and Elijah Wood. He was perfect.

I lost the copy of the book with MM’s manhattan address scribbled in it, and could not bring myself to impose on CB to ask for it. It’s just not something one does.

Anyway, CB kept me up to date with MM’s failing health each time CB would make his regular trips into Manhattan to visit him, so I knew MM was on borrowed time.

92, as they say, is a good age for any man. Beannacht Dé leat, MM.

The Celt in me is thrilled to this day to share the pages of CB’s The Writing Irish of New York with MM, although my essay appears in steerage, snuck in just before the acknowledgments.

Well, yesterday’s events made Monday feel like Friday.

But Tuesday has now presented itself to bring me back to reality.

I need to go out about my business.

But first some kitties to cuddle and my rounds.

You fine, five readers make sure you enjoy the random connections you make in life. Each one is a story.

And no matter what else we get up to, let us make today a great one.