It’s never too late and you’re never too old

About half a mile south walking distance on La Petite Ceinture, is one of those “free libraries” boxes that seem to be popping up all over the world. It’s a box with a two door glass front up on stilts where people leave books and are encouraged to take a book. This wonderful invention is just becoming popular in France. I find them in the most remarkable places. “My” free library has both French and English language books. I’ve found a 1937 beautifully printed book of Baudelaire poems and, in the same trip, a Harry Bosch detective thriller.

My little “free library” with buildings from Blvd de Montmorency reflected off the glass doors.

I walk down there two or three times a week and just peruse through the offerings as if I were at a regular library. I never expect much but am sometimes refreshingly surprised. As I was last week when I found Stones for Ibarra by Harriet Doerr. Ms. Doerr was seventy-four years old when Stones was published in 1984. I know this because someone I knew well back then had been in a writing class with her. When I complained that I was getting too old to write a book (I was thirty-seven at the time), Ms. Doerr was held up as an example to me that you can never be too old. I immediately bought the book and read it. As I said I was thirty-seven years old. Since I don’t remember much of the story except that it took place in a small village in Mexico, I’m hypothesising that I didn’t read books the same way I do now. Of course, I still read so fast that I often worry that I don’t retain anything. I think that back then, and especially with Ms. Doerr’s book, I read it competitively and negatively. ‘What does she have that I don’t have?’ Well, for one thing, she knew how to put a sentence together using a spare amount of words but had a big punch.

I wrote about La Petite Ceinture four and a half years ago when I first moved to the 16ème.

When I saw Stones for Ibarra in that little free library on La Petite Ceinture in the 16ème, it was like being struck in the head with a 2 x 4. A wake up call? Maybe. Of course, I grabbed it as if it were a precious jewel. As soon as I got home, I started to read it. It’s a beautiful little novel. Her language is sparse, engaging, and poetic. I immediately googled her and learned that she’d thought about writing as a young girl (she was born in 1910). She met her husband to be in her teens and eventually left Stanford University to marry him. It was after his death, when she was in her mid-60s, that one of her sons encouraged her to go back to college and get her Bachelors degree. She graduated from Stanford in 1977. She began writing while at Stanford, earned a Stegner Fellowship in 1979, and soon began publishing short stories. One of her writing professors got her into the Post-Graduate Writing program. And at the age of 74, she published her first book.

Three days ago, I got an e-mail from the Stanford Continuing Education Writing Certificate program. I was being invited to an informational Zoom meeting about their two-year writing program. I’m seventy-four.

I wrote a first book. It was published when I was seventy-two. I wasn’t writing the great American novel though I did hope it would sell better than it did. I wrote the book to let people suffering with a debilitating eating disorder know that there was hope and that I’d found a solution that worked long-term for me and many others.

Writing a book is hard work. And they say that writing a second book is even harder than writing a first book. I decided I wouldn’t do it. That I was too old. That I didn’t have the energy. But I couldn’t help writing chapters anyway and telling myself it was just for me because I like to write.

Then I found Stones for Ibarra. Then I get the e-mail from Stanford. Nobody I know believes in coincidences. It’s just what you do with them. I have an idea. That’s always a good start! I also have limited energy. So…. well, between writing the first paragraph of this blog and this last sentence, I accepted the invitation to go to the informational meeting. That’s called one step at a time and also called no commitments. I can always change my mind—about everything! But, it is true that I, and you, are never too old.

In case anyone is wondering how very cold it is here in Paris, here is a photo I took of the snow outside my window on Saturday.

We had no summer last year, it was so cold and everyone is crossing fingers for a warmer summer this year. This is not a good start!

For those of you who are visiting France soon or entertaining a visit, here is a blog by David Lebovitz. He usually writes about food but this has a lot of information about requirements and what’s happening here. https://davidlebovitz.substack.com/p/covid-update-for-visiting-france?s=r

A bientôt,

Sara

Author: Sara Somers

I am retired from my first profession, am from Oakland, California, living in Paris, France since 2013. I love books, movies, and watching everyday life in Paris out my window. Please enjoy my musings as I grow into the author others say I am. I am always open to thoughts and ideas from others about this blog. I like to write about Paris, about France, about the US as seen from France. About France that the US may or may not know.

8 thoughts on “It’s never too late and you’re never too old”

  1. Hi Sara,

    I am glad to stopped to read your blog today. Being reminded of Harriet Doerr always makes me happy, puts me in better balance. I met her once at a 1989 UC Berkeley Extension program I helped publicize early in my career there. It was one of those unforgettable day-long events and this one was tailor-made for me! It was called Women Writers at Work and the speakers included Amy Tan, Isabelle Allende, Susan Dunlap (one of the founders of Sisters in Crime), Harriet Doerr, and a couple of others. I think I bought STONES FOR IBARRA there — or maybe I brought my copy with me. I do not remember what I said to her, but she signed my book with this lovely inscription (see photo). I would have been extremely dismayed to know then that my first book wouldn’t be published until 2012! But her prediction did, at last, come true.

    I think the Stanford Program is a good investment. My friend Martha Conway teaches novel writing (various levels, etc) for them, and she is a marvelous teacher, wonderful writer. We’ve known each other since we were both working as editors at Berkeley in the way-back-when. All that I’ve heard her say about the program sounds very good — the curriculum, the students, the faculty, the way technology is used, etc. I’ll be interested to know if you decide to go with it.

    The second book in my series was very hard to write. I was shocked when more experienced book writers said, “Oh, the sophomore novel,” in a knowing, commiserating way. I had no idea. If anything, I thought it would be easier! And I can now report that, for me, the third book has been even harder. Sigh. But I still love writing better than anything, if I can get past whining! 🙂

    Bon courage!

    Alice

    >

  2. What an inspiring story about Harriet Doerr and you finding her book in your neighborhood book sharing box. Love the photo with Blvd de Montmorency reflecting off the glass by the way.
    It’s an incredible turn of events that you got the Stanford zoom meeting invitation to learn about their writing program a few days later at the same age as Ms Doerr when she wrote her first book!
    It’s not a coincidence. It’s a sign.
    I’m so late reading this blog that you’re well on your way to finishing your application to Stanford’s two year writing program. Glad you didn’t wait for any encouragement from tardy readers like me.
    It’s a wonderful opportunity and one you’ve been preparing yourself for during the last 5 years or more.
    Bravo on your initiative and perseverance.
    I’m going to start reading
    « Stones for Ibarra » tonight.
    Thanks for letting me borrow your free library book.
    It feels very special to be reading that particular copy knowing the backstory.
    Thanks for sharing this lovely story.
    Bon lecture à tous 📚

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: