The Supreme Word Goddess of the Universe

The first time I met Meredith Gould, she was rearranging the table and chairs for an editing panel in which she and I and another person were participating. You see, the table and chairs weren’t exactly aligned. I had to laugh; if she hadn’t done it, I would have.

In the next hour, I learned that Meredith hated nonparallel structure and authors who refused to follow the basic rules of grammar. You could see the conference attendees, many of whom had self-published books without the benefit of an editor, squirm as Meredith punctuated her remarks on essential and nonessential clauses and what to do with them by waving her hands in the air and pointing her finger as if to stab an improperly conjugated verb.

I got a kick out of Meredith during the panel. I became curious about her when I found out later in the day she was a Catholic convert. I wasn’t churched at that time, and was surprised that any thinking person would consciously choose to become Catholic.

Since that day, we’ve become good friends. Her book The Catholic Home helped me make the transition back to the Church, explaining liturgical colors and Catholic customs that I’d never even heard of before. I’m not sure I’d have had the courage to receive the sacrament of reconciliation if it hadn’t been for her counsel. When my memoir blew up, Meredith was the one who put me in touch with a canon lawyer who after a read assured me the problem was a frightened publisher and that I had not violated any Church laws in writing about my return.

Meredith recently moved much closer to me, just an hour or so away. We’ve both been busy, but I look forward to lots of in-person time in the coming years. After all, it’s been a while since we discussed the sad state of the semicolon in today’s writing and writers’ propensity to mmisuse plural pronouns.