Nothing is certain but death and taxes. I was going to write about taxes for this April 15 post, but death trumps taxes. A good friend and writing partner, Beth Lyon Barnett, died last week at the age of 97.
Beth and I met in 2008 through the Kansas City Writers Group, which has been active in the Kansas City area for many years. A sub-set of KCWG formed the Sedulous Writers Group nearly thirteen years ago in the summer of 2013. Beth and I were both founding members.
Beth was a pioneer and role model in more ways than I can count. I didn’t meet her until she was about 80—around the time she began writing fiction seriously. Then, she talked about going to yoga classes and walking her dog, about regular bridge games, and about her large family of “grands” and “greats.” She carried that same energy into her writing.
Over the years of our weekly meetings, I came to know more of Beth’s story. She had been a diver in high school, a radiological technologist at a time when women of her generation were not expected to work outside the home, and later a salesperson for radiological equipment. She told our group stories of keeping up with her male colleagues and customers—and I have no doubt she outpaced most of them.
Among many other activities, Beth volunteered with Court Appointed Special Advocates (CASA), an organization devoted to determining the best interests of children in the juvenile court system. My husband was involved in that program as well, and at one point Beth showed me an old event program listing both her name and his—a program that happened decades before I met her.
Of the original eight writers who formed the Sedulous Writers Group, only three remain. One left for a job, one moved away, and three—including Norm Ledgin and now Beth—have died. I have moved away from Kansas City myself, but Zoom allows me to continue. Over time, we added two members, though one has since departed, leaving our current membership at four—three originals and one adoptee.
Beth was the heart of the group for most of its existence. For years we met in a library, but when she could no longer drive easily, we moved our meetings to her home. When the pandemic came, we shifted to Zoom, then back to her house, and eventually to Zoom again after I moved.
Because, in the end, it doesn’t matter where we met or whether it was in person or online. What mattered was how we critique each other’s writing.
In an earlier post about critique groups, I wrote about the value of showing up consistently, reading closely, and offering honest, thoughtful criticism—the kind of feedback given not to tear down, but to build up the work. That has been the foundation of our group. We mark up each other’s pages thoroughly. We challenge each other—sometimes vigorously—on everything from story structure to word choice to punctuation. We debate. We disagree. But we respect one another, and we know the author must decide the final words to put on the page. Once the author makes the call, our role becomes that of cheerleader.
That combination—rigor and trust—is rare in friendship, and it is what has made our group last.
As I wrote in the dedication of my last novel, A Life of Joy:
This book is dedicated to all the writers in the Sedulous Writers Group and the Kansas City Writers Group who have encouraged me as a writer and helped me improve my craft. None of my books would have been possible without them.
Beth was a large part of that.
The Sedulous Writers Group critiqued all of Beth’s published novels except her first, Jazz Town. I think she was most proud of her final book, The Lyons Den, which was based on her family’s history since an ancestor emigrated to the United States. The Lyons Den was published in 2024, shortly after Beth turned 96.
Beth may have come to fiction later in life than most, but she approached it the way she approached everything else in her life—with spirit, intelligence, and perseverance. And she kept doing it until the end. She critiqued our last submissions on April 8, just days before her death.
Beth will always be a role model for me and for our group.
Rest in peace, dear lady.
P.S. The image at the top of this post is AI generated. Our writing group has had several recent discussions about use of AI in writing.
