Write Stuff
While juggling the demands of work and domestic duties, some women just need to write.

BY BARBARA TANNENBAUM

It was 6pm on the second Sunday of January. Both the holidays and the rain had receded, so the evening hour presumably would find most young mothers at home serving dinner or preparing their children for the school week ahead. But a group of 20 women had made other arrangements with their spouses. They arrived, many of them signing up at the last minute, to spend the next two hours at a literary salon at Book Passage in Corte Madera. The women ranged in age from those in their 20s to others in their late 40s or perhaps 50s. Their children ranged in age from infants to teenagers. One woman took her seat at a table set up in the bookstore’s back gallery with a pen and legal-sized pad of paper in one hand, while the other rocked her 6-month-old child cooing in a car seat.

The workshop, called “Mothers Who Write,” is the inspiration of Dawn Frankfort Yun, a San Rafael-based writer and mother. Born in New York City 47 years ago and raised in Fairfield County, Connecticut, Dawn is a well-published journalist, former staff reporter for UPI, and author whose work has been published in the San Francisco Chronicle, Manhattan Inc., Vegetarian Times, USA Today and more. She moved to the Bay Area in 1996, shortly after the shocking death of her own mother, Rae Karcher, from a sudden heart attack. Six years ago, she met and married her husband, John Yun, in San Francisco, and is the mother of two children—her 12-year-old stepson Jay, and her 4-year-old daughter Mimi. They now live in San Rafael.

On the telephone, Dawn’s voice is teasing and light, often breaking away to answer a question posed by her daughter. But at the bookstore, Dawn was a dynamo of focused energy, dressed all in black, with black glasses and shoulder-length jet-black hair. Clearly, it is Dawn’s intensity that motivates the group’s creative output over the course of the year.

“When you become a mother, you become open to new and creative ways to structure your life,” says Dawn, nursing the last drops of a soy latte before the start of her workshop. “Now is a really good time for young mothers to write. They want to get those observations down on paper. They’ve been giving so much to this other human being. They need to carve out some opportunity to write for themselves. I give them assignments—that forces them to do it. They have one month to work on an essay that speaks to their experience of motherhood.”

Dawn’s own baby, Mimi, was born in July 2001. In short order, she joined a mother’s group and a mother’s club. “That first year of my daughter’s life was physically overwhelming,” Dawn remembers. “The fact that my mother had passed away only intensified my questions and longing for her answers. I had to start a journal not only of Mimi’s early life, but for Mimi herself, for when she grew up in case I wasn’t there, God forbid, to help with her child.”

In the months following 9/11, Dawn remembers many conversations with her peers that were poignant, specific and sometimes broadly philosophical—searching not only for a way to make sense of their lives but for a way to consider the future in light of their new family and the changing world situation.

“I was at the Millennium Park in San Anselmo—I call that the Disneyland of playgrounds—asking the parents what they had done before giving birth. So many women had had careers and of course I told them I was a writer. And this one woman said, ‘I’ve always wanted to be a writer, I just don’t know where to do it.’ If she had been the only one to say this, it wouldn’t have registered. But so many mothers were saying that to me that I had to take notice. There was clearly a need to create a space where mothers could congregate and write, and bring their kid along if necessary.”

This is not surprising, as state birth records provide a unique portrait of Marin women of childbearing age. According to statistics from 2002, women 30 years and older bore 71 percent of Marin County’s babies (the comparable percentage of older mothers bearing children after age 30 in the entire state is 41 percent). Also, Marin mothers were more than twice as likely as women in the rest of the state to have children when they were 35 or older.

“This class is literally Dawn’s baby,” laughs Marguerita Castanera, who has coordinated the class offerings at Book Passage for almost 10 years. “Her proposal said that both working moms and full-time mothers find themselves with a tremendous desire to write down their observations and experiences. What they need is a place to get away—for a short while at least—and some encouragement to express themselves.”

DAWN LAUNCHED THE class as a four-week workshop in September 2004. “But it’s grown steadily in focus and popularity,” says Marguerita. “It’s been a four-week class, a six-week class, a six-month salon, and now a year-long salon and workshop.” “Mothers Who Write” has a $120 membership fee that’s modeled on Book Passage’s other networking salon, “Left Coast Writers.”

“Dawn has persevered. She’s taught the class when 15 women have shown up and when only one person showed up. I’d say when I see eight mothers on the registration list and 20 people show up—which describes the salon’s first meeting in 2006—you’re looking at a very successful evening,” says Marguerita.

As the women took their seats, Dawn laid out her goal for the year: Yes, the group will continue to be a place where sleep-deprived mothers can share their work and obtain some feedback; yes, they could expect to sit and write in relative calm during the two-hour session. But it was also Dawn’s hope that the group would complete an essay on a specific topic that would later be collected and presented as part of a book proposal for an anthology of writing by mothers. She passed out a list of proposed topics. “Even if we don’t sell this book proposal at the end of the year,” she said, “you will learn real information about this process. And, as in past salons, I will encourage you to sell your essay to newspapers, magazines or online outlets.”

Indeed, several of Dawn’s students have published essays begun or reviewed in the previous year’s salon. One student, Jessica O’Dwyer Berger, wrote a piece about adopting her daughter in Guatemala that was published in the San Francisco Chronicle’s Sunday magazine. She’s now expanding the piece for a book proposal. Leigh Anne Gray, who commutes from Sacramento to attend the salon, wrote an article on barbershops for Alameda Magazine.

These successes are partly facilitated by the professionals Dawn invites to address the group. In previous years, author Rhys Bowen and Kimberley Cameron, a literary agent at Reece Halsey North based in Tiburon, arrived with tips and encouragement. This year, Dawn explained, there would be five “bonus” meetings, where she had invited publishing professionals, including editors (Alison Bigger from the San Francisco Chronicle’s Sunday magazine section), agents (Kimberley Cameron), and authors such as Ayelet Waldman (author of the Mommy-Track Mysteries) and Peggy Rathmann (author of the children’s book Goodnight Gorilla) to address the group.

The women nodded with appreciation and then settled down to introduce themselves. What emerged was a portrait of accomplished writers, teachers and essayists at different stages of their writing careers.

One mother, Jessica, who had extensive magazine experience and now two preschool toddlers, said, “I just don’t want to write features about other people anymore. I want to focus on the spiritual and emotional experiences in my own family.” Many echoed that sentiment, saying the class would also provide those crucial tonics desired by all writers, no matter what their circumstances: accountability, structure, inspiration and discipline.

“But there’s something about coming here,” said Emily, a former marketing writer with a son in kindergarten and a daughter in preschool. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in a room with this many adults!”

Laura, a Sacramento-based mother who returned, having attended earlier versions of the salon, said, “At my first salon, I was fearful it would be a group of mothers bragging about their perfect children. Because I like writing about the blood, sweat and tears. I love hearing that and I love the honesty of that. Really, the title of my essay should be, ‘Leave me alone so I can write about how much I love you.’ ”

“How about, You’re 17 already,” another mother offered. “Am I allowed to go out yet?”

“I’ve got one,” added Emily. “My son had a play date the other day with a little girl he absolutely adores. He’s my firstborn, we’re very close. I realized I was feeling a twinge of jealousy! So how about—My son left me for a younger woman.”

“That’s it,” said Dawn writing down the suggestions on a white board. “You’re all here to express yourself without judgment. You’ve already done this one difficult, enormous thing by having a baby—now it’s time to channel the enormous amount of creativity and emotion that comes from the experience. I’m just as happy for you to focus on crazy, sleep-deprived lunacy of it all as on the touching and evocative side, as long as it gets down on paper.”

WHILE THE PHRASE “mama’s boy” is commonly tossed about the modern lexicon, Dawn is what you might call a “mama’s girl.” She adored her energetic, witty Jewish mother, Rae, and convinced her to co-write an advice column in the ’80s called “Ask Mom and Dawn,” which originally appeared in a national woman’s fitness magazine called Feeling Great. It was later syndicated to newspapers across the country. Eventually, the mother-daughter team appeared on a morning talk show in Tampa, Florida, and a highly rated, locally produced evening news program.

“I saved the idea for years,” Dawn remembers. “I read Good Housekeeping as a kid. They ran an advice column by the wife of composer Richard Rodgers and her daughter.”

Dawn pitched the idea of mother-daughter teams to the producers of the Joan Rivers Show in Los Angeles, who quickly said yes and rounded up more guests for the segment. “It was going so well until the day of the show when Joan’s producer called us to ask what we hated about our mothers. That inspired a virtual mutiny. When we arrived at the studio, Dr. Joy Browne, the well-known New York City radio personality, announced there was no way we would go on the air and bad-mouth our mothers. The producer huddled with Joan and we were able to return to our original concept.”

Another early career highlight occurred when Dawn, working in Tampa, Florida, as an editor at a trade publication for the outlet shopping industry, wrote a guidebook called The Joy of Outlet Shopping. The book was a bestseller—selling more than 100,000 copies—with calls for interviews and guest appearances arriving from Oprah, Good Morning America, CBS and Lifetime television. However, what Dawn treasures most was her interview with President Bill Clinton’s mother, Virginia.

“I wrote her on a whim,” Dawn says, “asking if I could interview her for the book. She was in the early stages of her battle with cancer and was not accepting many requests from the press. But it turned out that Clinton’s mother was an extreme outlet shopper. She adored it! So I flew down to Hot Springs, Arkansas, and we hit the mega-mall. She took me to lunch and ordered a platter of hush puppies for me. I asked her if it was true that when Bill brought Hillary to meet her, if she said, ‘Don’t marry her, son, she’ll never take to our Southern ways.’ Well, she punched me in the arm! She said, ‘You know me well enough by now to know I’d never say something like that!’ ”

Dawn named Virginia Clinton as the book’s managing editor. And it was Dawn’s photo of the president’s mother that appeared in the obituary that ran in Time magazine.

“My mother’s death was my own personal 9/11—the event that transforms your world and makes you realize that life is short so get your work done,” Dawn says. For her, that means working on her own book proposals, one of which is called Remarkable Moments: The Profound Ways Departed Loved Ones Say Goodbye, Teach Us About Life and Guide Us to Our Purpose.

“Personally, I’m not what you might call ‘New Age,’ but I have found in the years following my mother’s death some extraordinary moments of connection and communication,” says Dawn. “I’d say a remarkable moment can be a dream, a contact, ESP or coincidence that connects you with someone who is about to pass or has already passed on.” Dawn has been working on this topic for many years, interviewing the groundbreaking author Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and blues musician Taj Mahal, among others.

“Each chapter is devoted to a decade from the 1900s to the present exploring the shared common wisdom between mothers as it evolved over the decades.”

Dawn’s husband is a lawyer. “That is such a significant way that John helps me as a mother,” says Dawn. “His work allows me to stay home and write. I’ll always be grateful for that. I also write between 5:30 and 8:30 in the morning before Mimi goes to school, six times a week. I consider myself a full-time mother and full-time writer.”

This is not to say that juggling the two has been easy. Limited time and divided attention has required Dawn to write in some nontraditional locations. “Focus is everything,” she says. “I’ve pulled out my notebook to scribble a few paragraphs at the waiting room of my gynecologist, while driving (though I don’t recommend it), in the parking lot of my stepson’s middle school, at restaurants with my kids (also not recommended because the stains make it hard to read the notes later on), and in the bathroom stall where I’m waiting at the insistence of my daughter.”

Given this schedule, one may wonder why Dawn keeps returning to this class, now beginning its third year. “I believe in these women,” she says. “They may be sleep-deprived. Their observations may be raw, but again and again, I see exceptional prose. I keep being surprised—maybe the better word is rewarded—at how graceful, insightful, mature, funny and beautiful their work is. These are women in many cases who have never written before. Yet there it is, right at their fingertips, waiting to be revealed. The ‘Mothers Who Write’ salon lets them reveal it.”

For information about joining the “Mothers Who Write” salon, contact Book Passage at 415/927-0960, ext. 230, or go online to register at www.bookpassage.com and click on “classes.”

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