by Margaret George

Legendary.  This word is thrown around a lot, often being applied when it is wildly inappropriate.  But it is not inappropriate for Sharon Kay Penman, a truly legendary author of weighty—in more ways than one—historical novels.

The legendary Sharon Kay Penman:

Legendary in the story of how the only copy of a five hundred page first draft of her Richard III novel was stolen from her car, and how after five years when she was unable to write because of the trauma of losing it,  she was able to go back to it and rewrite it from memory and from scratch.  Such a setback in writing a first novel would have stopped most aspiring writers, but not Sharon.

Legendary in the meticulousness of her research, and in her graciousness in correcting anything that someone pointed out as slipping past her guard.

Legendary in her warmth and true appreciation of her readers, and in her response to them. 

Legendary in her concern for others and her eager support of other writers.

Legendary in my own life as a caring friend and an enthusiastic booster of my work, as a sister in writing books of similar nature and size, and sharing the process with me.

Sharon first came into my life in 1987.  We were both published in the UK by Macmillan, and had the same editor.  Her 1982 The Sunne in Splendour had been a great success.  I was a debut author and had just published The Autobiography of Henry VIII.  Our mutual editor asked her if she would read it and give a nice quote for it. 

Asking someone who is a Ricardian to say a good word about a Tudor is like asking a descendant of Lincoln to say a good word about John Wilkes Booth.  But Sharon, gracious soul that she was, did read it.  She said I didn’t convert her about Henry VIII, but she did like the writing!  Later she promoted my Elizabeth I novel as the only Tudor she could stand.  Sharon’s sense of humor was another of her outstanding characteristics.

We met several times in person and hit it off really well, enjoying one another’s company.  As time went on we had a regular correspondence about our work and what was going on in our worlds.  In preparing to write this tribute, I pulled up all 162 emails from her to reread them.  Earlier there were letters written on onionskin paper—remember that?  As I read through them I was struck by several things.

One, how she often apologized for ‘being slow to answer.’  But she always did answer, and at great length.  So good was she at correspondence it was like she was sitting there beside me. 

Second, how concerned she was with others’ welfare.  She often contacted me if she had heard there was a tornado or flood in my area to make sure I was all right.  When Covid started, she found a way to order masks when they were difficult to obtain, and sent me the information.  Without my even asking, she offered to post notices about my new book on her website, or on Facebook, and to interview me for NPR and her blog.

Third, it was not just me, but many others that she reached out to.  She had an enormous, almost nineteenth century-size circle of correspondents, and each was special to her.  She led several author’s tours—including one on Richard III and another on Eleanor of Aquitaine and treasured her time meeting her readers face to face, too.  Someone said that paying attention is the highest form of compliment, and Sharon paid attention to people, listened, and remembered just about everything you said.  She gave each person that ultimate compliment of attention.  And she welcomed new people into her life; she was accessible no matter how famous or busy she was as the years passed.

Fourth, she was so bonded to her characters and her scenes that when she was in the midst of a book she almost transported herself there, signing off an email with, ‘must go, the battle is about to begin and I have to get to the heights nearby.’  Perhaps that is why her novels have such a sense of time and place.

Fifth, she struggled for many years with health issues, starting with bouts of mononucleosis, then muscular-skeletal problems that made it difficult for her to sit at the computer– a real professional challenge– and other health burdens like headaches. 

Sixth, in addition to the struggle just to be able to sit at the computer, she had a lot of computer troubles.  She claimed they were possessed!  I know they did scramble and drop emails, devour texts of her work, and must have passed on their malady because succeeding generations of tech equipment seemed likewise infected.  Nevertheless she soldiered on, when a lesser person would have thrown in the towel.   She gave them names like Demon Spawn, Melusine, and Draig, and tried to co-exist with them. Sometimes she called for an exorcism via a tech guru to bring them to heel.

Despite all these obstacles she wrote ten masterworks of historical fiction.  Her final one, The Land Beyond the Sea, was completed struggling against many factors, which she triumphed over.  She had the victory of seeing it published in March 2020.  She also wrote four award-winning medieval mysteries, called the Justin de Quincy series, drawing on her background knowledge of the era and her love of mysteries.

Last, I came across something in the emails I had almost forgotten:  we both took one of those silly ‘who were you in the past?’  quizzes and found out we were the same person:  Boudica, the warrior queen of Britain who almost drove the Romans out in AD 61.  She said I really should make Boudica my next subject. She even came up with a title for the book! Now in searching for that next subject I feel that Sharon is reminding me of a very tempting choice.  And, I am also reminded of how much alike we were, sisters in authorship, thinking alike in many ways.

Her kindness and unselfishness came to me one last time, in December of 2020.  I had asked her if she could write a letter of recommendation for me to an organization I was applying to join.  Without hesitation she wrote it and sent it off, mentioning offhandedly that she had just been diagnosed with a new illness, but it wasn’t anything to worry about, she wasn’t worrying and neither should I or anyone else be.

Only a month later she left us.  I was stunned, as was everyone else, but her last communication to me, about the letter of recommendation, will always stand as a testament to her stoic character and love and concern for others.  As an author she was great, but as a person and a friend even more so.

Sharon, we miss you but you will always be with us!