Carolyn Glenn Brewer

I’ve always loved stories. Some of my warmest childhood memories involve books: my father reading bedtime stories to my brother and me, our Saturday morning trips to the local library where our fairy god-mother of a librarian customized my reading list. My mother carved out time every afternoon for reading and by example made reading a family habit. Books were respected and treasured at our house. Reading to writing seemed like a logical progression. I started with short stories, but when I went back to college to work on an American History degree, I discovered l loved essay questions. I couldn’t wait to tell my professors what I knew about the XYZ Affair or the Bonus Marchers. Doris Kerns Goodwin and David McCullough became my favorite authors. Their rich social history stories inspired me to try my hand at nonfiction. After a night of frighteningly severe storms, I had my topic. I wondered how other survivors of the Ruskin Heights tornado, the twister that destroyed my childhood community, reacted to storms. I was curious about how the tornado shaped the history of that community. The result was Caught In The Path. At the 50th anniversary reunion of the Ruskin Heights tornado, dozens of people came up to me with their stories. These were baby boomers; people I had gone to school with or played with in the neighborhood. So many of their stories had a recurring theme. Their stories were full of emotional scars and unanswered questions because their families hadn’t talked much about the tornado. I knew then that Caught In The Path told only half of the story. Caught Ever After is a very personal book for me because not only did childhood friends allow me to become keeper of their stories, making it possible to piece together the puzzle that the tornado left, it also forced me to examine my own story more carefully. I’ve moved on to a happier topic. I’m now working on a book about the Kansas City Women’s Jazz Festivals 1977 – 1983. Because the first festival was the very first time a jazz festival featured women jazz performers, it holds a unique place in history. My first novel, One Song Beyond Hope, was published in late 2012. It’s historical fiction (no surprise) juxtaposing musicians during World War I and Vietnam through a family saga. I’ve been a musician most of my life and I tend to see things through a musical lens. This is particularly true of writing. My motto is, if it works in music, it works in words. So many elements of musical composition carry through in prose: phrasing, dynamics, articulation, tempo, tone color. What is a well-crafted story line if not a melody? All my writing is born of curiosity. I hope it sparks curiosity in my readers as well. That long-ago librarian taught me that books pose the questions as well as hold the answers, and if my writing can add even a footnote to the understanding of history, I’m pleased.