Author Archives: Mrs. Fitz

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About Mrs. Fitz

Hello! I'm Michele Fitzpatrick, a Chicago writer. Like our town, a work in progress. As a journalist, teacher and writing coach I think all of us live our stories and sharing them creates moments that remind us we're connected. And that is enough.

Reason # 13 Why Folks Don’t Write

There are many reasons folks don’t write. Lack of talent isn’t one of them. Exhausting effort on emotion is. When that happens, writing doesn’t. It’s easy to write about emotion because it’s obvious, powerful and present. For instance, somebody cuts … Continue reading

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Grand Ma

Several things about being a granddaughter are fun, among them remembering sweet things about grandma, and being connected to her other granddaughters who can remember things I forgot. Grandma Janda had a cherub face, perhaps in part from being the … Continue reading

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Sparkles

The women who raised me shared a suspicion of sparkly, yet were drawn to it. This meant that indulging in sparkles and rhinestones and festoonery was reserved for Easter hats and the occasional formal event. Easter-hat-shopping assumed remarkable and multigenerational … Continue reading

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Claiming Acclaim

The most conflicting acclaim I earned as a journalist at Chicago Tribune was the General Excellence award in the 1980’s conferred by the company on an employee who displayed, well, general excellence. I didn’t deserve this award the year it … Continue reading

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Outboard

In our Elmhurst ranch house basement, Dad housed his outboard motor in the way-back part of the space where few of his three children ever ventured. This may have been deliberate in the sense that his outboard motor was one … Continue reading

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Houska

My Grandma Janda mothered six children in Chicago, worked for Sears Roebuck & Co., prayed her rosary, worshiped the Chicago White Sox and baked houska bread. Making houska became, in her later widow years, what you might call a cottage … Continue reading

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Remnant state of Illinois

Living in Illinois is like living on a tablecloth. It’s flatter than a credit card. There are few, if any clumps, divets or elevations, excluding the Kahokia Indian mounds protruding here and there. We make up for this with a … Continue reading

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Forrest

Forrest is the name of a boy about 29 inches tall, one of 14 like-sized children in the first day of the first swimming class I taught at East End pool in Elmhurst, Illinois in 1967. I remember Forest best … Continue reading

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Write or Wrong

Three folk I admire ought to write books but they don’t. In common they are known to me but not to each other. In common they are superior human beings if you measure such by generosity of spirit, ability to … Continue reading

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Three good things

I like things in threes. So tidy. Here’s three facts I like that have little or no relation to each other: 1. This month (Feb.’12) Russian scientists popped through 13,000 feet of ice and reached Lake Vostok in Antartica. This … Continue reading

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