Carrie Fisher was my second cousin.
I never met her. I had emailed a few times over my writer-lifetime, but to the best of my knowledge she had nothing to do with her father, Eddie Fisher’s family. I was never looking for a high-profile connection, just a regular one. I never expected a reply, and the relationship had again been relegated to party banter and Amy-trivia. (It’s about all I’ve got!)
Her grandfather, Joe Fisher, was my grandmother’s, Mollie Tisch’s, oldest sibling. Joe changed his name to Fisher from Tisch. The sisters, Pearl, Bertha, and Mollie, changed their names when they married, as women did back then (and some still do). Her famous father, Eddie Fisher, was my mother’s first cousin, and he grew up in Philadelphia like everyone else in our family, before his left coast/Debbie Reynolds/Elizabeth Taylor life.
During high school I interviewed Aunt Bertha about their trip to America from Russia in 1913. My grandmother was about four and Uncle Joe was a teenager. The story I remember most fondly is how Uncle Joe’s hat flew off in the wind. No more hat for Uncle Joe – which was a big deal for an Orthodox Jew with no way to cover his head. I have always been interested in the plight of Eastern European immigrants, and wrote my senior college thesis on Sunday New York Times Editorials’ On Eastern European Immigrants in 1910. Or something like that. I don’t remember exactly, but I do know I used MICROFILM to read these editorials. I think I got a B. Or I like to think I got a B.
Anyway, what does this have to do with writing?
As you know, I’m writing book 4 and it’s set in South Haven, Michigan. No, that has nothing to do with huddled masses yearning to breathe free. But…in the early 1900s through 1930s, families from Chicago and Milwaukee—mostly Jewish families—arrived in South Haven, Michigan via steamship on Lake Michigan. The same kind of steamship that likely carried the Tisch family from Russia to America.
Just the other day I was contemplating a prologue (shoot me, I know) about how Boop’s ancestors found themselves on the Southwestern Michigan shore in the early 1900s. I was thinking about little girls standing on a steamship, wondering what was going to happen next.
I know my grandmother’s story. Now I can’t wait to write the rest of Boop’s!
Happy New Year, friends!
Amy xo
PS I didn’t have to stretch too far to circle back to WF with this one, did I?
PPS Here’s a photo I’m using as inspiration for 18 year old Betty (better known as Boop). Ignore the palm trees.
This post made me want to send you condolences. Even though you never actually met this exotic cousin, relationships matter. Even the mysterious ones. The whole world feels a little sad today. I imagine it is more so for those whose connection comes from true stories. So, I’m sorry for your loss.
What a fabulous history! I can’t wait to read about it. So many people see Carrie Fisher as a princess but, to me, she’ll always be a brilliant, funny, touching writer. So lovely that you share that with her.
I loved this post, Amy. You share your life so beautifully with your fellow writers. And the photo is great for getting that character on the page. I hope your holidays went well and that you are settled in. I will keep in touch. Still rewriting, but December was a big MISS with too much LIFE going on. Discipline must be my game now, Beth
This is great! Writing about that cutie on the hood would be lots of fun, I’m sure. Happy new year!
How interesting, Amy. I can’t wait to read your finished book. If you return to South Haven for research, please let me know and I’ll meet you there. Good luck with the writing and Happy New Year!
Writing genes in the family for sure. Love the photo and memories.