Are there people who helped you become the writer that you are today, or otherwise encouraged and supported you? Take some time today for some silent appreciation for them. If these people are still with us – and if you want to – consider expressing your appreciation in person or in writing.

I have a few.

I excelled at writing and literature in high school. As a rule, my teachers were both appreciative and encouraging. They didn’t know it, but those few minutes of acknowledgement and affirmation every day gave me the respite I needed to survive the other 23 hours and 10 minutes of bullying, criticism, and invisibility.

In college, my best friend was the first person to tell me that I was smart, that I was talented, and that I could do anything I wanted. He was also the first person to ever brag about me to someone else. I’d never heard anyone say that I was a good writer and that others should come to me for help if they needed it. After 20 years of being treated like an imbecile by my family, like an unclean misfit by my church, and a punching bag by my peers, that was a life changer.

After college, I kept in touch with many of my literature and writing professors. K Edgington (that’s not a typo…her first name is K) was the first teacher or professor I could speak to as a peer, or at least an older sibling. Funny, funky, sarcastic, and one of my early feminist role models, she taught creative non-fiction. I learned a lot from her about connecting the personal to the universal and following the threads of memory and how our experiences repeat and resonate through life. Publishing one of her stories in my DIY zine in the early 90s was a highlight of my creative life. I was so honored that she’d allow me that pleasure.

She also passed along one of the best compliments I received about a story I wrote. When David Bergman, another of my college professors (poetry), assumed the editorship of the Men on Men series of anthologies in the early 1990s, I submitted a story. It didn’t make it into the anthology, which is good because I would probably be embarrassed by it now. However, David told K that the story was at the top of his B list for the collection and that he thought I had the talent to make it as a writer, if I had the perseverance. I floated for days after I read that. I still get a tingle.

Sadly, several of my college professors have passed, but I still remember the lively grace of Ruth Ann Patterson and the curmudgeonly wit of Ted Grant. Ted wasn’t the most congenial person but he was my first creative writing teacher in college and the first person who took my creative ambitions seriously, if not always gently. He wasn’t warm but he was very smart and had excellent taste in writers. I learned a lot from him.

When social media took off, I had the chance to connect with Greg Seagle, who was a great writer and even better teacher. Greg was the warmest and most personally invested of any of my writing teachers. You could see his delight when a student showed promise or surprised him with a plot twist or turn of phrase. He was so happy to find and nurture those sparks. Greg passed away in 2012, but I still think of him often.

It occurs to me as I write this that I am the same age or older than my writing professors were when they passed. A Google search shows that Ruth Ann and Ted were 44. Greg wasn’t much older than I am now.

Life didn’t take me the direction I wanted, and I haven’t “made it” as a creative writer, but I still treat it seriously and am determined to persevere. Whatever I make of myself, I have K, David, Ruth Ann, Ted, Greg, and others to thank for it.