On The Loss of An Author Idol

An ode to author Roxanne Longstreet Conrad, a.k.a. Rachel Caine.

What I didn’t know was she was also a professional musician who had, at times, played with famous people. In addition, I didn’t know she’d authored books under a handful of other pen names and Rachel Caine was just one of them.

She stood at the front of the session room dressed in slacks and a cardigan, looking no different than your typical mother. No airs. I remember she looked so tiny in front of us. She smiled at us kindly. I kept looking at the schedule to make sure I had the right room and session. I’m not sure what I was expecting a prolific author to look like, but it wasn’t someone who could’ve passed for my aunt.

I’ve met published authors before. The ones I’ve met have an interesting range of personalities. I once recounted a tale to my husband about a writer meet-up where I was introduced to a crazy mix of egos and a game of one-uppance. He still mimes gestures from that story to this day.

Rachel launched into the story of her humble beginnings and I was captivated. She talked about how she didn’t start as a professional writer — her undergrad degree was in accounting. But writing always called to her. When she realized she wanted to be a writer, she created a writing routine. She went to her local coffee shop at 5 am to write for a couple of hours. Then she’d log into her day job a few hours later. She did this consistently for years. Determined. Putting in the work. Knowing what she wanted was within grasp.

She was humble. She was honest. She was sharing the important nuggets of wisdom you look for at a writing conference. It was the first time I’d heard real talk from a published author. The 45 minutes went by quickly and she answered as many questions as she could. She understood the place that her audience sat in, as she had been there once herself.

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