I've been making a living writing things for money for a few years, even though I never actually finished my bachelor's degree. I feel fortunate to be hanging around with the people who have become my best friends over the past two years. So I can't let it pass unacknowledged that the man who put me on this career path was let go by The Kansas City Star on Monday.
I used to work at The Cup and Saucer on Delaware Street, back when it still existed, and Saturday afternoon bar shifts were typically slow enough to actually talk to customers. John Mark Eberhart and his wife, Sherri, came in for beers while I was working one of those shifts in 2003. They were quietly celebrating the end of Sherri's most recent round of chemotherapy, which would, sadly, turn out not to be the last. When John Mark mentioned that he was the books editor at The Kansas City Star, we started talking about books and about The Star, and how a city as truly cosmopolitan as Kansas City deserved a books section, like, 10 pages longer than The Star could afford. The Eberharts were charming and funny, and they sat at my bar for an hour and a half.
Then John Mark asked me if I'd like to write something for his section. "Are there any current books you'd like to review?" he said. I had never been published anywhere. Seriously, WHO DOES THAT? As it happened, I'd just read Pattern Recognition, the most recent novel by William Gibson, who had been my favorite writer since I was 17 years old. I told John Mark that I would love to write about the book, and he said, "Unfortunately, we already published a review. But would you like to interview the author?" Which is how it came to pass that I bit off way more than I could chew, experience-wise. He helped me set up a phone interview, and I lived in a state of terror for the next two weeks, during which I re-read Pattern Recognition and Gibson's first book, Neuromancer, which I'd read over and over as a kid, the way other kids read The Catcher in the Rye.
I managed to get through the interview without embarrassing myself or geeking out too much. Copious note-taking saved me from the disaster of a tape recorder malfunction (also my first, and not the last, a lesson learned early). I sweated over my copy for three days and e-mailed it to Eberhart. His response, a quick one, was amazingly gratifying; he loved the piece and said he was going to try to pay me a little more than he'd initially promised. I remember printing off his e-mail and dropping it out of my apartment window as my friend Lara, an accomplished writer and editor, was walking down the street, so she could read it. The interview was published with many edits but virtually nothing cut; it ran as a half-page in the Sunday books section. I remember being shocked and proud at how much space it was afforded.
Over the next couple of years, he gave me six or seven other assignments, and with those clips, I managed to get freelance work at other publications. Ultimately, C.J. Janovy would make the ridiculous and wonderful decision to hire me as the assistant calendar editor at The Pitch, but if it weren't for Eberhart's generosity, encouragement and patience, I'd never have had the nerve to send her my resume. And thanks to him, my first published piece was an interview with my favorite author.
Out of respect for John Mark's wishes, no negative commentary here about The Star or its corporate parent, McClatchy. The city's paper of record has been much diminished of late, but somehow it only now feels to me like an aperture has closed, one that used to lead to poetry and humor, to a genuine love of writing and the desire to propagate that sensibility. Dude's one of the really good ones.
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John Mark Eberhart might not remember me--but I'll always remember him. I'm the book editor at The Washington Missourian. Eight years ago, as a columnist for our community newspaper, I wanted to start reviewing books but knew nothing about how to get started. I contacted John, said I'd drive to KC and he met me at a bookstore there.
For the next couple of hours he shared his knowledge and contacts in the book publishing world. When I confessed that I was concerned about not being able to write reviews as well as "big city" writers could, John said something that's stuck in my mind every time I feel less-than: Remember you are the voice of books for your community. It was wise council.
From the posts it's obvious that Eberhart touched many lives. I wish him all the best!
John Mark Eberhart was one of the reasons I looked forward to Sunday morning. He appreciated good writing and encouraged others to share their perspectives on the written word in all forms.
May all the greedy CEOs and all the graceless bean counters rot in their particular hells.
Sigh.
So it goes.
And he has plenty of friends outside of KC, even in South Dakota, where I live.
I was starting to worry about Eberhart when I saw that his website, johnmarkeberhart.com, had vanished. I'd been working on a website myself and I wanted to add Eberhart's to my set of links. His was a cool place where he introduced himself as a poet with a day job as Book Editor of The Kansas City Star, and where he publicized and sold his two books of poems: "Night Watch" and "Broken Time."
Eberhart gave me my start as a book reviewer. I'd written a lot of computer journalism--software reviews and articles for PC World, InfoWorld, and quite a few other major and not-so major computer magazines for years. But I'd never written and published a book review, something I'd always wished I'd do. I sent out multiple queries to several newspaper editors. Eberhart was the only book editor interested and I explained to him that I was making the transition from writing about computers to writing about books. I sent him four links to some of my near-12-year-old InfoWorld stuff. Crossed my fingers. Eberhart asked for 500 words on J. M. Coetzee's "Diary of a Bad Year." Here I was about to review a Nobel Prize winner in the paper where another Nobelist, Hemingway, once worked. The review appeared on February 17, 2008, which I took as a good omen, since it was my girlfriend's birthday. Later, on April 17, he published my review of Charlie Baxter's "Soul Thief."
Not only did Eberhart publish my book reviews, his Books section was one of the few in major newspapers (maybe the only one) that published poems by local authors.
Usually it's the younger writer who thanks the older master for giving him his start, but the situation is reversed here, as I'm half-a-decade-and-a-week older than Eberhart--but thanks John Mark!
--Joe Peschel
Chris, you are one of my "friends in KC." I may be out of a job now, but I am glad we met that wonderful Saturday afternoon ... and that it made a difference to you. I knew after talking to you for ten minutes you were a writer. All the best to you, and thank you for writing this. Takes some of the sting off being let go after 22 years, you know? Peace, little brother. A better day's in birth. -- John Mark
Chris is still one of the best writers living in the world today, and it is my great sadness that I no longer live within dropping distance of his copy.
John does indeed sound like a good friend, you lucky sod...
And that was a lovely little paean.
Journalists such as John Mark Eberhart are a rare breed. I hope he finds another avenue in Kansas City. As for The Star, I just shake my head. Good luck, John Mark! You are missed already.
You know Chris a degree in Communications/Journalism is worth a bucket of warm hamster vomit. Kind of like a diploma from Northeast High School. LOL
Good journalists encourage others to write. I had several while I lived back East and went to Temple. James Michner hired me to write for The Drummer (two-weeks later a libel suit against Harry Katz forced Michner to shut the paper down).
Later Steve Bell would critique my work offering great encouragement.
John Mark Eberhart, I salute you.
Damn I miss The Cup.
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