In 1988, I made a mistake. My friend Susan was an editor at Mega-Books, the publisher for Nancy Drew books. I loved Nancy Drew. I spent my childhood wanting to be Nancy Drew. I wanted to search for hidden staircases and old clocks and have a boyfriend named Ned whom I treated like dirt. I wanted to drive around in a blue roadster with my friends Bess and George while my lawyer dad, Carson, was off working too hard. Nancy could golf, swim, pick locks, play bridge, arrange flowers, and was an ace at tennis. And even though Nancy didn’t have a mom, she had a cook named Hannah Gruen. I mean, how great was that? Her own cook!
Written by Carolyn Keene, the first Nancy Drew books were published in 1930 in response to the success of The Hardy Boys books. Spoiler alert: Carolyn Keene was not a real person. My apologies to anyone who did not know that.
“Carolyn Keene” was a pseudonym for all the series ghostwriters, and my editor friend Susan asked me if I wanted to ghostwrite a Nancy Drew book. I was scared I would let Nancy down and not do a good job, so I said no.
What was I thinking? If I couldn’t be Nancy Drew, at least I could have been Carolyn Keene. Nancy would not have been afraid. Nothing scared her.
Also independent and often solving mysteries was Nurse Cherry Ames. She had 27 books written about her and each time she had a different job. Cherry Ames Student Nurse. Cherry Ames Senior Nurse. Cherry Ames Army Nurse. Rural Nurse. Cruise Nurse. Cherry had quite the resume. She taught me the importance of dedicated work and being open to new experiences, though in retrospect, despite those 27 specialties, I don’t remember Nurse Cherry ever saying, “Maybe I should apply to med school.”
While Nancy Drew had her roadster and Nurse Cherry had her … cruise ship? ... little Laura Ingalls traveled around in the family covered wagon, moving from Wisconsin to Kansas and then on to Walnut Grove, Minnesota and that Little House on the Prairie. Laura had to churn butter, plant vegetables, feed cows, boil laundry, and was constantly fetching water from creeks, all while the family was fighting off locusts and blizzards. My only chores as a kid were making my bed and helping to clear the dinner table. Laura Ingalls taught me: It could be worse.