July 1, 1993

Me, Roberta & Joyce
Me, Roberta & Joyce

I could not have a more generous, supportive friend than Roberta Gundersen. What kind of petty, insecure person could possibly begrudge the success of a friend who wants nothing but the best for me? This is where I raise my hand. I didn’t begrudge her success, exactly – I just envied it to an unseemly degree. I wish I could say I’ve matured in the 28 years since then, but I haven’t.  Every time I read about another writer’s success, I can’t help thinking, “Why isn’t it me?”

Our class
Our class

In the last few days, I’ve devoured a novel – The Plot by Jean Hanff Korelitz – which deals with some of these issues, and more. I loved it – and, of course, I’m jealous, and I wish that I had written it. I’m familiar with most of her settings and situations (writing workshops, etc.)  In fact, the experience I describe in today’s diary entry (circa 93) took place at an Iowa Summer Writer’s Workshop I attended with Roberta and my sister, Joyce. (Our teacher, GM, liked Joyce’s work, too.)

Roberta and Me
Roberta and Me
Roberta and me on our way to writing conference
Roberta and me on our way to writing conference

I can’t help wondering if the book spoke to me so strongly because it’s about familiar territory. If you’re NOT a writer, aspiring or otherwise, and you read this book, I’d be very interested in your thoughts.

Not sure whats going on here but it looks like its fun
Not sure what’s going on here but it looks like it’s fun