On Writing and Storytelling: My Ex-Co-Editor, Always

Gratitude Tour, Stop Five: My Ex-Co-Editor, Always

When I first mapped out my “Gratitude Tour,” the plan was simple: shine a little light on the readers who not only devoured the three existing Garratyverse books—Reunion: A Story, Reunion: Coda, and Comings and Goings – The Art of Being Seen—but also took the time to leave a review. In my mind, it was going to be neat, orderly, and executed with the precision of a NASA mission checklist.

But life, as it tends to do, laughed at my checklist.

Sometimes gratitude doesn’t follow rules. Sometimes it taps you on the shoulder and says, Actually, we’re going over here now. And that’s how we arrive at the one glorious exception to my “Three Reviews Earns You a Ticket to the Gratitude Tour” rule: Maggie Wunderlich (née Jimenez), proud member of South Miami Senior High’s Class of 1983 and my forever “Ex-Co-Editor.”

Where It All Began

Fate—or perhaps the mysterious whims of the registration office—threw Maggie and me together on the very first day of the 1980–1981 school year. We landed in the same fourth-period Newspaper Production and Editing class, and the next morning discovered we also shared homeroom: Mrs. Billie Bernstein’s domain in Room 230, affectionately known as The Little Theater.

Looking back, it feels inevitable. Two aspiring writers, two teenagers with notebooks full of opinions, and two schedules that kept intersecting. We were destined to be partners in bylines and bell schedules.

(Nostalgia break for the SMSH faithful: In those days, homeroom was its own daily ritual—a quick stop to check in, pledge allegiance, and listen to Dr. Burchell’s morning announcements before the mad dash to first period. Only in the legendary 1982–1983 year did homeroom get folded into first period, sparing us a few hallway sprints.)

The Advice That Stuck

Maggie and I clicked instantly. She was the kind of friend who could listen without judgment and then hand you a truth wrapped in humor. I still remember confiding in her about my crush on Mary Ann—a junior who shared both our homeroom and my bus route. Maggie, wise beyond sixteen years, wrote me a note I wish I still had:

“Don’t be pushy about your feelings, Alex. Love isn’t something you can force, no matter how much you want her to. It’s more like emotional magnetism. If she loves you, it’ll hit you like a bag of ice to the face… totally unexpected.”

Classic Maggie—equal parts sage and stand-up comic. And just one more reason why she’ll always have a VIP pass on this tour.

The Serpent’s Tale Year

During the first half of our sophomore year, we were both staff writers for The Serpent’s Tale, our school newspaper. I covered Entertainment; Maggie handled general assignments. Then, midway through the year, an unexpected editorial shake-up opened the door for us to co-edit the Entertainment section.

We covered SMSH’s performing arts groups—including the choral department, where I sang in the Boys’ Chorus—and reviewed books, TV shows, albums, and movies. We were a good team. We knew it then, and we still know it now.

We only had that one year together on the paper. Our junior-year return was thwarted by low enrollment—only six more students signed up for Newspaper Production and Editing, not enough to publish a paper. I reluctantly joined Yearbook. Maggie went her own way.

But the bond stuck. To this day, we still call each other “Ex-Co-Editor,” a title that has somehow aged better than most of our 1980s hairstyles.

A Friendship That Endures

In 2009, Maggie and I made a pilgrimage back to South Miami Senior High—our last one together. Today, she lives in Michigan with her husband Chris and their two adult children, shaping young minds as a beloved schoolteacher in the Wolverine State.

Not long after I revised and reissued Reunion: A Story in 2003, I sent her a copy. She read it, and in true Maggie fashion, she didn’t just enjoy it—she showed up for it. She left a review that remains one of the best and most meaningful pieces of feedback I’ve ever received.

She wrote:

I was captivated from the start by the author’s descriptive and easy style of writing. I could picture everything so well and it definitely took me back to the angst oftentimes felt in high school when a lack of confidence could get in the way of pursuing a love interest… Hindsight is always 20-20… I highly recommend this novella that will resonate with you long after you read it. Excellent work Alex! Your South Miami co-editor is so proud of you!
— Maggie Wunderlich

Even now, reading those words, I feel the same mix of gratitude, nostalgia, and quiet pride I felt back then. Maggie didn’t just encourage me—she affirmed something I wasn’t yet brave enough to claim: that my stories mattered.

I was captivated from the start by the author’s descriptive and easy style of writing. I could picture everything so well and it definitely took me back to the angst oftentimes felt in high school when a lack of confidence could get in the way of pursuing a love interest… Hindsight is always 20-20… I highly recommend this novella that will resonate with you long after you read it. Excellent work Alex! Your South Miami co-editor is so proud of you!

Why She Belongs on the Tour

The Gratitude Tour isn’t just about reviews. It’s about the people who helped shape the writer I became. Maggie was there at the beginning—when I was still figuring out my voice, my confidence, and my place in the world. She saw me then. She sees me still.

And that’s worth breaking any rule for.