MEETING JANET BELLINGER

I read this at our group after Janet passed away. She died October 13, 2007.

Tuesday, October 25th, 2001, was a strange rainy day and I almost missed the writing workshop. Had I missed it, I wouldn’t have started the Headwaters Writers’ Guild. Waking up with a migraine from hell, I decided to stay in bed, although a part of me longed to attend the writing workshop. Eventually, I gave in to the longing.

Janet Bellinger arrived late because of a bad migraine, and getting lost. When we talked in the washroom, we had an immediate connection when we shared painkillers.

For those who don’t know me, I’ve heard angelic voices since I was four after I had a near-death experience. Today was no exception. “Janet’s special,” the angelic woman’s voice whispered, “be kind to her.”My eyes widened and I stared at Janet.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. “Is my head on crooked or what?”

“Nothing like that,” I said.

If I had one word to describe Janet it would be unique. I promise you will never meet another person like Janet.

I remember the time, laughing and giggling, we almost slid off the icy road into a ditch on the way to Ed’s. We were co-conspirators in the pursuit of a magical key that would unlock our creative geniuses. Later, I realized the key is hard work. Or as Ed always said, “The only way you can be defeated is to give up.”

Janet had an artist’s personality and I could always find the child within myself when we hung out together and my writing flourished. Janet had a strong, confident, reading voice when we wrote together. I always believed in her talent explicitly. I had no choice as whenever we were together I could see a vision of a published book with her name on it. I’ve never seen it for anybody else but Janet.

“I think I’ll write under Janet Elizabeth,” she said frequently. I always tried to stifle a laugh.

“Whenever I see your published book, the name printed on it is Janet Bellinger.”

“Really?” she said pushing her blonde hair out of her face.

Janet is a passionate writer and her writing led to long debates at Ed’s workshops. I complimented her saying, “A writer’s job is to provoke thought.”

She always had a talent for humourous writing. “You have a natural talent for humour,” I told her.

“Do you think so? I don’t try to be funny.”

I believe that Janet wrote her poem “You are a Symphony” with me at one of our writing sessions together. “It’s beautiful,” I told her.

We often met at a local coffee shop to write. When I wrote with Janet I did the best writing of my life. The muse always arrived for us. Janet and I wrote every day and shared our writing by email. She was a staunch supporter and inspired me to continue writing.

After every session at Ed’s she’d email me with kind words such as “I loved your Always poem. Especially the line, I am the dog who licks your hand.”

If you value this writing group, you have Ed and Janet to thank. Ed for the structure of the group, and Janet for planting seeds, which took root two years later. Stuck in Orangeville with the roads closed, writing at Coffee Way, Janet with her eyes twinkling said, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had our own writing group in Orangeville?”