Remembering Barbara Brooks Wallace
Barbara Brooks Wallace, author of children's books and two-time Edgar Award winner, passed away November 27, 2018, of natural causes. It's a term she would have liked--Natural Causes. I imagine I can hear her saying, "That could be a title."[gallery ids="11871,11872,11873,11874,11875,11876" type="columns"]Back when the Internet was young, I was on a blue board lovingly titled The Pub, where a bunch of us chatted, rejoiced in each others' publications and awards and commiserated when someone skidded on the inevitable peanut-shells the industry sometimes threw our way. Barbara Brooks Wallace was our resident link to the history of the field. She'd worked with Jean Karl, which made the rest of us feel we were touching the hem of a goddess. Here's Bobbie talking to me about receiving her first contract from Jean.
Bobbie was remarkable--full of ideas and questions and determined to stay connected. Here's a 2013 post she wrote for Cynsations. When Bobbie turned 90, we Pubbies put a birthday package together for her. It was my privilege to mail it, along with the scarf and matching blue socks I'd knitted. She'd been grumpy about that birthday and when the package arrived, she called me. I picked up the phone and there was Bobbie, laughing so hard she could barely talk. "You weren't going to let me be cranky, were you?" she said.Here's what fellow Pubster Dian Curtis Regan says in remembrance:
Every time Bobbie posted to the Pub, her words made me smile. At the time, she was pushing 90 (!) yet was still 'in the game,' writing and publishing and wanting to talk about both.To learn that she published a new book at the age of 95, Seeking Nip and Tuck, makes me happy, and also makes me want to be just like her. What a wonderful role model for all of us writers.
We're in the dangerous streets of the New York tenements at the close of the 19th century, with two young boys who have escaped their vicious stepfather by faking their own drowning in the river. Matt and Mickey Deacon disguise themselves by changing their names to Nip and Tuck. But just changing names for two proverbial peas in a pod is hardly enough to save them from the determined evil predators who are seeking them...
And this from Fred Bortz:
On a trip to the DC area a few years ago, I met Bobbie at her assisted living place and took her out to dinner--Chinese, of course. Her sparkling personality was exactly as expected from our online interactions.
I am certain that as she passed away, the twinkle in her eye was the last thing to fade.
Go, Bobbie! If there's an afterlife, you're in some celestial Pub, still in the game, writing up a storm.