Dear Ms. Mendelsohn,
This week I've been reading your book I Was Amelia Earhart, reading it slowly, rereading the particularly haunting parts (the heat wave, the storm) and last night stayed up late finishing it and am now buoyed by its beauty. I too have tried to imagine what happened on the way to Howland and wrote this poem that we turned into a now lost song:
Fly Amelia Earhart Fly,
To Howland.
To Howland.
Fly Amelia Earhart Fly,
1000 feet high.
1000 feet high.
Fly Amelia Earhart Fly,
The ocean rushing towards the sky.
The ocean rushing towards the sky.
Fly Amelia Earhart Fly.
So, how happy I am to have found your imaginings, mine being so feeble. I am enthralled by the intermix of first and third person and intrigued by Amelia's ever-after with Noonan and fascinated by your process of writing a straight narrative three times longer before having the insight for your revision.
I'm looking forward to reading your other books, not looking for more of the same, I understand, but more of these types of visions that bring me closer to my own humanity.
Joanna Dane
Thanks for reminding me of this jewel of a book. I read it years ago, but it had slipped from my memory until I read this, Joanna. I ordered if from the library and it arrived today. I plan on reading it again this afternoon.
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