The Wickeds lost a friend on October 23rd. Ramona DeFelice Long was a F.O.W. (Friend of the Wickeds), a guest poster, and a commenter on the blog. She was a writer, editor, and writing teacher par excellence, and her talents for friendship and community-building were even greater. Ramona was a smart, funny, opinionated, generous woman who will be much missed throughout the writing community. Each of the Wickeds had a unique relationship with Ramona. Here are some of our memories, along with those of Wicked Accomplice alumna Kim Gray.
Edith: Ramona was a bright light in my life for the last decade since we met at the Seascape weekend workshop (where I also met Kim Kurth-Gray and Liz, and firmed up my connection with Sherry and Barb). Ramona made me laugh and made me think. She was a fierce proponent of women, and a political commenter who did not treat bullies and fools lightly. Her insightful editing vastly improved each of my Quaker Midwife Mysteries. Several times I was lucky enough to spend some days with her and a few other writers at a convent retreat house near Philadelphia, where we worked all day and told stories all evening. The seven AM sprint club she started a number of years ago begins my writing day in the best of ways, and the group continues, although in sadness. Ramona’s passing leaves a huge hole in my life and in the lives of so many.
Sherry: I too met Ramona at Seascape (a wonderful writers conference put on by Hallie Ephron, Roberta Isleib aka Lucy Burdette, and Susan Hubbard) in 2009 along with meeting Barb, Edith, Kim, and Liz. Ramona had such a great smile and sharp wit. I never realized how many times I think about her — it’s usually small things like when I heard the weather or Delaware or I was getting out one of my vintage tablecloths because Ramona collected them too. I thought of her again when I heard the news of Sean Connery passing because many people have said he’s the greatest Bond ever. But I love Daniel Craig as Bond. Ramona called him the Blonde Bond. She will be in my heart forever.
Jessie: Ramona was someone I had heard of long before I met her a few years ago at Crime Bake and so it felt as though I was encountering a friend from the first moment we were in the same physical space. She was vivacious, witty, direct and the sort of woman I always deeply admire. I wish I could have known her better.
Kim: When I close my eyes I see Ramona sitting in her chair in the sunroom at Clare House, an old farm house we’d rent a few times a year. She’s deep in thought over the novel she’s working on, or watching the deer move slowly from the woods past the windows. People say “If those walls could talk,” but if they could, they’d not gotten a word in between the two of us. That was the main thing we had in common, she and I could talk for hours about anything and everything. We solved world problems, put together a stellar cast for the next adaptation of Rebecca, and fiercely defended our opinions {hers negative, mine positive} about Gone with the Wind. We traveled together, ate more crab cake lunches than I can count, and went on more retreats than I’d have thought possible. Ramona introduced me to the writing life.
She was an excellent teacher and knew how to encourage and get the best work out of writers with her insightful edits. A few months ago she sent me a card. It read ‘You Are Braver than You Think’, something she had often told me. If I am brave it is because I had her as an example.
Julie: Kim, what a wonderful remembrance. Edith and Sherry, I envy you your Seascape memories. I wish I’d gone for so many reasons. I knew Ramona by crossing paths at conferences, and being her Facebook friend. One of my favorite memories was seeing her at the New Orleans Bouchercon, where she introduced me to her sister Annette. The sisters were at Malice last year (I think it was last year) as well. Ramona was very private, which I respect. When she stepped away from teaching a Guppies class, Kim connected us and I took over teaching it. Huge shoes to fill, but I try. Ramona was a talented writer, amazing teacher, fierce feminist and wonderful woman. May her memory be a blessing to us all, and a call to arms to do better writing and be better people.
Barb: I met Ramona at Seascape, too. We connected over our mutual love of short stories and Ruth Rendell. For years she used my book Clammed Up in her mystery classes as an example for how to set a ticking clock. I was so flattered by that. At the last Malice Domestic (that was actually held) Ramona, her sister Annette, Kim, all the Wickeds and others gathered in Jessie’s room after the banquet. Ramona and I ended up sitting on Jessie’s bed together. We talked for a long time. About what we were working on and what we were reading, as all writers do. But then we veered into more personal stuff. We talked about our granddaughters, our childhoods and our homes. I am so, so grateful that I will have that conversation always.
Liz: I love all these stories. I’d actually forgotten, Barb, that I first met Ramona at Seascape as well. Over the years we didn’t see each other a lot in person, but I spent some time with her at various Crime Bakes and Malices, and she was every bit as inspiring, fun and cool as she is online. In 2016 at Bouchercon, she and Kim and I snuck away for a coffee one morning and it was the highlight of the conference. (The picture below is from that coffee date.) She was such a special, warm person. That was the last time I saw her in person, but since then her posts on social media have been something I looked forward to pretty much daily. She had a way of making you feel connected and part of her inner circle, and her posts were always thought-provoking and sassy and so, well, Ramona. The loss of her is still shocking to me.
Readers: Do you have memories of Ramona? If you do, we would love you to share them here.
In addition to her great friendship and support, Ramona left us her beautiful book, The Murderess of Bayou Rosa.
In the summer of 1920, the town of Bayou Rosa, Louisiana is in its twilight, but hope arrives with the construction of a new railroad depot. The brighter future is imperiled when a free-spirited local woman shoots her lover in the back, but won’t say why. Now, the town is faced with a legal and moral dilemma. With rows of new graves in the cemetery from a devastating world war and influenza epidemic, can a jury of twelve men vote to hang a woman they’ve seen grow up since birth?
If you would like to purchase this fabulous book, you can do so here.