Today was a bittersweet day for me. You see, for quite some time I've had a speech/lecture/sermon/pep talk that I've given a number of friends (and a few strangers) about what it means to be an artist and how, quite literally, it is never too late to become everything you ever wanted to be. And that speech always involved mentioning Frank McCourt. Many of you may be too young to remember the hubbub 13 years ago when McCourt released the heartbreaking memoir about his immigrant mother and his life during the great depression titled
Angela's Ashes. It won a Pulitzer Prize, was a New York Times best seller for quite some time and inspired a well reviewed, if somewhat forgotten,
film of the same name.
Why did I bring up this writer and his book? Because Angela's Ashes was his first work, published when McCourt was age 65. You see, Frank McCourt spent most of his life teaching creative writing to high school students in New York City. He was the classic joke:
those who can't, teach. But after amassing a life of experience, he sat down, putting pen to paper and penned the most important work he ever would. At the age of 65 he was no longer Frank McCourt, Retired High School English Teacher - he was Frank McCourt, Author. Novelist. Writer. Take your pick. Either way he brought millions to tears, inspired a Hollywood movie and all but canonized his mother as a saint in the minds of housewives the world over.
He had become a man who dedicated his life to service and was rewarded with the title of a successful artist.
"When Frank McCourt dies," I would say, ending the story on a sobering note "the headline won't read Frank McCourt, teacher, dies. It will read Frank McCourt, Author. Novelist. Writer."
Today Pulitzer Prize winner writer Frank McCourt passed away.
CNN thought it was noteworthy enough to make it their top story. The headline?
Frank McCourt, author of 'Angela's Ashes,' dead at 78.
Think about that for a moment. Drink that in. Next time you think you're done for, that you're never going to make it, that you've nothing ahead of you but a life of drudgery and servitude at the feet of other, more talented and more successful people, think about Frank. Think about living to the age of 65, when most people think that life is over, and beginning the work you will most be remembered for.
It's not over till it's over. Today Frank proved that once and for all. Frank leaves behind not only a life well lived, but a body of work. Whenever I feel like the world is conspiring against me and that it's never going to happen for me, I think of Frank. I hope, now, you do too.
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