My mother, Frances Cecilia Sky, always wanted to be a published writer. She wrote in longhand on blue-lined loose leaf paper and she typed on flimsy yellow second sheets. Her subject matter was everything from book reviews for her Book Club (a group that existed before World War II and must have been one of the first of its kind), to stories based on her early childhood in Russia. She left me a number of manuscripts.
My mother did not achieve her goal of seeing her work published in print during her lifetime. To rectify that in electrons, I will be posting a selection of my mother’s writings, some of which are breathtakingly insightful and all of which are beautifully composed, to her page here on SkyScribed.
