Betty J. Cather Roan Enigk, that’s my moniker. I was born Cather, spent most of my life as Roan, recently adding Enigk. I’m not overly fond of my middle name, thus the J. I try to keep it a secret, but there are those who know, and often tell. I’ve only been Enigk since August 31, 2007, so I frequently misspell my new last name. My health insurance card came back spelled E-n-g-i-k. When I called to inform the company of their mistake, I discovered it was my error, not theirs. I misspelled it on the paperwork. I would like to say that’s the only time I’ve failed to spell Enigk correctly, but it isn’t. The inability to spell my new name has become a running joke at the office. Perhaps I’ll get it right one day, although few can. Callers often ask for Betty Egg-nick, and my daughter is currently promoting her youngest son’s version, Grandma Ick.
I was born in Mattoon, Illinois. I grew up on a grain farm near Toledo, Illinois. In addition to farming, my father worked in a factory, building wooden crates for radiators. My mother was a stay-at-home mom. She loved to quilt, and made the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted. I have one older brother, Otis.
While Otis was in first grade, he read to me almost every night. I couldn’t wait to start first grade so I could learn to read, too. I still love to read, everything from Edgar Alan Poe to James Patterson and Nora Roberts to Tolstoy.
I credit my sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Everhart, with planting that first writing seed. She read one of my essays aloud to the class, which felt like high praise to a shy girl from the farm. Later on, my creative writing instructor pulled me aside to talk about journaling. She told me I should write everyday, even bringing in her own personal journals for me to read, but she didn’t explain why. I guess I thought she wanted me to practice so my writing assignments would improve. She didn’t mention writing for publication. Those teachers may have planted those first seeds, yet I didn’t nourish them. At the time, my interests were in art: drawing, painting, and photography. I wanted to be an interior designer. In addition to school, I worked full time and was responsible for my two children. I didn’t have time to write.
I married my first husband right after high school, which in hindsight wasn’t such a great idea, except for the resulting children, Brian and Tami. A job transfer moved us from Illinois to the Nashville, Tennessee area. From there, a new job took us to Dallas, Texas, where we divorced. After the first few years of imagining him drawn and quartered, we buried the hatchet. Now, I consider him a good friend.
I became an insurance adjuster by accident. After the divorce, I went to work for an insurance company in Dallas. I started as a receptionist and worked my way up. The insurance company transferred me to Raleigh, NC, where I lived for three years. I moved back to Dallas when I learned my daughter was madly in love. I didn’t want to miss out on grandchildren. Tami and Chris were married in 1997.
Since I worked from home, when my daughter and son-in-law moved to Tennessee, I was able to follow. It seemed like the right move since my son and grandson, Dylan, also live in Tennessee. While living there, I retired from insurance. I spent a few months being nanny to my daughter’s children, and then moved back to my hometown in Illinois.
I started writing in January of 2005, during the nanny period. I was about to begin reading chapter four of a bestselling novel, the author will remain nameless, when I slammed the book shut. “I could write a book better than this one,” I said confidently. So I set out to prove myself right. It took about three months to finish a three hundred fifty page novel. When I finished that novel, I wrote a second.
Still, despite my feigned confidence, I was surprised at my ability to write a story without an outline or knowing where it would take me. Writing was like reading the story as I wrote it. The words seemed to come from some unknown being, whispering in my ear. Each day, I couldn’t wait to see what the characters would do next. I often lost track of time, as if in a trance-like state. It was an odd feeling, and very difficult to explain.
While editing, I found myself missing the creative process of writing. One day, I watched a morning show interview with an author working on a compilation book. He wanted submissions, so I wrote a story and emailed it to him. Almost two years later, that story has been accepted. I don’t have a publication date yet, but I hope to see it in print before I’m too old to make out the words.
Knowing practice would improve my writing, I started a blog. I made a commitment to myself, and my readers, to post one story every week. For the most part, I have stuck to that schedule. I ask friends, family, and one of my most loyal readers for prompts, either a word or phrase, and I write a story based on their suggestions. Those stories are mostly fiction. If anyone is interested, the address is www.calistablu.blogspot.com. I recently published twenty-nine of those stories in a book called “The Apple Tree, A Short Story Collection”, which is available at www.lulu.com, and I have enough stories to do another volume. Two short stories have been published in our local newspaper, The Toledo Democrat. I’m pretty sure one must submit their work to get published, guess I need to buy some envelopes.
I believe my writing style has improved since completing that first novel, so I’m re-working it, using my new found skills. When I finish the first, I’ll start on the second, while continuing to write as much as possible. Who knows, maybe someday those novels will be published. Even if they’re not, it’s a nice dream, and what is life without dreams?
Along with being a wonderful site to preserve family history, OurEcho provides a creative outlet. Although my friends and family are supportive, they rarely have time to read my posts. I would like to thank all of the OurEcho members who have left comments. It’s a great feeling knowing someone has taken the time to read something I’ve written.
After twenty-seven years of being single, I said yes when Bob asked that all important question. He’s a great guy, and I would be proud to write under the name Enigk. However, I’m still writing as Betty J. Roan. It was his idea. He said I should use the same name I started writing with. Personally, I think it’s because he’s afraid I’ll butcher his name in print.
Keep reading, writing, posting, and don’t forget to comment. It’s the only way the writers know they’re being read. Besides, it’s the OurEcho way.
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