Jeff Genung allowed me to fulfill a dream.
Before I met him, I had published books. I had married the man of my dreams. I’d even had enough adventures to satisfy Harry Potter and Indiana Jones.
What I had not done, though, was become an intrepid journalist.
My heroes growing up were Brenda Star, Girl Reporter. Lois Lane, Girl Reporter. Clark Kent, Superman and Boy Reporter. Hell. I even envied Jimmy Olsen, and all he did was follow Clark and Lois around with a camera, get kidnapped, and fall off cliffs.
I had not done any of that. Yes. I’d seen my name in print. But not under a headline. Not as a newspaper columnist. Not as a GIRL REPORTER.
In Jeff’s recent column about my books, he described our first meeting: “Shelly practically beat down my door with an idea for a column in her adopted hometown newspaper … I soon came to realize that Shelly isn’t the type of person who takes either ‘no’ or ‘maybe’ as an answer. I’m glad I said yes!”
I am even happier that he said yes, because I’ve had five years to work with this incredible man, watch him hire cub reporters, train them, and see their writing and reporting get better and better under his eagle eye.