Ronda Rich

Syndicated Columnist

Even at the young age of 18, I watched it all in real time. And, though I was short on years and wisdom, I knew it was nothing short of amazing.

There is a preface to this story. It isn’t fluff. It’s important to tell. Countless have been the times that I have been at a speaking engagement or book signing and had someone come through my line. It happens almost the same way every time. The person will be in the middle of the line, which keeps others waiting until, finally, five minutes in, I will say, “Would you mind waiting and coming back when I’ve finished signing? I hate to hold up all these people.”

If Tink is with me, he helps with books, but then he gets pulled into a conversation by that same person who asks, “Once this book [they’re proposing to write] is a bestseller, how do I turn it into a movie? Or do I write the movie first?”

Tink, despite his 30 years in Hollywood, is always kind and patient. Meanwhile, I’m left with no help at the book table. When I finish, I say, “I’m sorry you had to wait. How may I help you?”

“I’d like your guidance on writing a book.”

I nod. “What do you want to write?” Usually, the answer is similar to one of two: “I’m one of many children. Daddy died and Mama raised us by herself. I put myself through law school.”

I love those kinds of ideas. The one I hate is “I don’t know. I just want to write a book.” Most people write books like the ones they read. I have a friend who devours Westerns. He’s written over 23 cowboy books.

“What do you read?” I’ll ask. “I don’t.” Wrong answer. My reply? “Then, you can’t write a book if you don’t read them.”

This to tell you about a woman named LaVenier Hicks who wanted to write so badly that she put everything she had into it. Her full-time job was at a zipper plant where, after many years, she worked her way up to plant manager before it finally closed. She wrote freelance for our local, daily newspaper where I worked as an intern. She got off from work at 4 and, within an hour, came running into the news room, waving pages of stories she had written.

There were days that she wrote the entire front page, even though we were well-staffed. I remember one day, that there were four front page stories and she had written every one while working a fulltime job.

Her ability to turn out massive quantities of quality stories was stunning. All while working a fulltime job.

LaVenier may have had a high school degree, but I doubt she had a college diploma. Yet, she figured out the art to crafting a captivating story then did it over and over and over.

For $25 per assignment. Imagine working hard on chasing down sources for days while working full-time. She won awards. She won trust. And she won everyone’s admiration. She was a star. She could sniff out a story from a country mile away. Her sources were always strong and never wrong.

She found an old man at the foot of Blood Mountain in Lumpkin County. He had a farmer’s stoop from all the years a mule had pulled his plow. He handcrafted spinning wheels and fiddles and was considered one of the best fiddle players the Appalachians had ever produced. He took a likin’ to LaVenier and took special care with the table and chairs he built for her. His history, she told with admiration and precision.

That man, our Uncle Oscar Cannon, raised daddy. Before she died, she wrote the book of his life and accomplishments because she knew what she wanted to write and what drew her.

Oh, how amazing that woman was.

Ronda Rich is the best-selling of the Stella Bankwell Mystery series. Visit www.rondarich.com to sign up for her free weekly newsletter.