In the summer of 2005, I decided to research the possibility of attending seminary after a spiritual transformation occurred following some tough times with my personal life. Actually the idea came to me while sitting on a large rock beside the Roaring Fork River outside Aspen, Colorado. One of the questions the author posed in a book called “Jesus, Life Coach,” was “what you do if you only had six months to live?” Suddenly, the thought occurred to me, “Go to seminary,” since I had always had a curiosity about theology. When I returned to my apartment, I checked the internet and located San Francisco Theological Seminary in San Anselmo, California. I called their office and asked a woman, “Do you let old people with bad grades into your seminary?” She laughed, and then said, “Well, let’s see.” I then sent in my bad grades along with other information, and by the grace of God, they admitted me. Then it was during a first-year course on Spiritual Direction that we were asked to read the book, New Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton. When I did, I was immediately drawn to him and his devotion to the contemplative life, to a life detached from the real world. Soon New Seeds of Contemplation became a second Bible to me.

Yes, in a third year Conversion class taught by a gifted professor named Dr. Lewis Rambo, we were required to write a paper on the subject. I thought Merton might be a good subject and began to research his life by reading The Seven Storey Mountain and a couple of biographies of him. During my research, I discovered, to my surprise, that Merton had fallen madly in love late in life with a student nurse half his age. When I announced in class why this had occurred might be my topic, a classmate named Don asked me whether I knew seven volumes of Merton’s private journals had been released in the mid-1990s. I did not know this, but soon became acquainted with them especially Volume Six chronicling the love affair. The paper I wrote focused on the love affair but I knew that at some point following seminary, I would try to turn the paper into a book.

Wow, yes, and yes again. Prior to my biography being written, at least ten full-bore biographies had been written about Merton. There were also more than seventy Merton books to consider along with numerous dissertations, articles, etc. At first, I was blown away with the amount of material and wondered whether there was room for another biography. But I learned that while other Merton scholars had touched on Merton’s love affair with Margie Smith, no one had written a book solely about the romance.

When my literary agent James Fitzgerald attempted to interest an editor named Alessandra at Palgrave Macmillan about the book, she asked the same question. My answer was twofold – one, many biographers, out of respect for Merton’s private life, had decided to avoid the subject, and two, I suspected that no had the guts to tackle the tough questions about why Merton fell in love, what prompted him to nearly leave the monastery and turn his back on the Catholic Church. Re the former question, I felt Merton actually wanted the love story to be told based on clues and revelations left behind in his private journals. This was to be my goal with the book – to tell the story Merton wanted to be told.

After months of research especially regarding Merton’s private journals, I began to tell the story chronologically. But I soon discovered this storytelling method would not work since there was so much about Merton’s life in his autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain. I knew the text had been censored, but I had no idea how much until I consulted many of the top Merton biographies such as those written by Michael Mott, Edward Rice and Monica Furlong. Each biographer had added to the Merton true story, and soon I began to consider weaving the true story around the love affair with the nurse, Margie Smith. Again, this idea, while worthy, didn’t work either, and then finally I decided to chronicle part of the love affair in the opening pages of the book followed by autobiographical and biographical information before returning to the love affair.

Discovering that Merton’s falling for Margie Smith, truly love at first sight, was the result of lingering sinful demons left over from his pre-monastic past. Many people who read The Seven Storey Mountain did not know the truth about how much of a singer Merton really was before he entered Gethsemani in 1941. While at Clare College/Cambridge, he had been a drunkard, chased women, been part of a “mock crucifixion,” and fathered an illegitimate son. Then at Columbia, he had continued to the drinking and carousing despite having become Catholic to the extent of committing adultery just months before entering the monastery. Becoming a monk was supposed to cleanse him of these sins, but from his own private journals, I knew this was not true. Instead, Merton’s failure to understand what loving, and being loved were all about caused him frustration, turmoil, and even depression. Beneath the mask of holiness, the plastic saint image promoted by the Catholic Church, was a sunken man who yearned for love while realizing he could never truly be one with God until he found it. Then, as I wrote in the book, the skies opened up and there was a gift, the love of a woman. It is no wonder Merton grabbed the chance to experience love despite the risks involved. And Margie taught him about loving, and being loved, opening up a path to freedom Merton never knew existed.

From his own words in the private journals he kept, there is no question Merton left clues as to the secret world he lived in few, if any, knew about. In essence, he was much more human than people wanted him to be as legendary singer Joan Baez discovered when she visited him at Gethsemani during the Margie affair. When I interviewed her, she said he was “pie faced,” terminology for his being drunk. She also could tell how much Merton loved Margie. Some might say this tarnishes his image, but Baez didn’t see it this way and neither do I. We want our heroes to be perfect and they never are. Most wear masks, and sooner or later learn the lesion that those who try to be something they are not suffer, while those who live as their true self find freedom, and if they so choose, the kingdom of heaven. I’m convinced Merton knew his relationship with Margie was the key to learning about the “true,” complete Merton and I am pleased people will be able to read a truly inspiring story, one guaranteed to make folks question their own values and the way they lead their lives.

Yes, they should, since knowing about the love affair and Merton’s underlying suffering permits the text to be examined in a brand new light. There is no question that while many read the books as providing advice as to how others should lead their lives, Merton was actually talking about himself more than anyone knew. The place to start is probably with New Seeds of Contemplation, where Merton first writes about people wearing masks. But others such as No Man Is An Island and especially the novel, My Life with the Gestapo shed much light on the true Merton and what was rolling around in that brain of his.

Thomas Merton entered the monastic life trying to detach himself from real life. He truly wanted to be a contemplative, solitary monk but when the powers-that-be at the monastery learned of his writing skill, he was encouraged to write The Seven Storey Mountain. When it was a success financially, and Merton became a celebrity, he was asked to continue writing. From that point on, the world was blessed to read his many books, but Merton was never permitted to become the solitary figure he wanted to be. The Catholic Church knew a cash cow when it saw one, and it was determined to keep him on a short leash. They would not let him leave for another order despite his wanting to, causing him to feel imprisoned. As the years passed, and despite being permitted to live in a woods hermitage, Merton was unhappy since he knew he was not the contented monk he was supposed to be. He had to wear the mask and suffer the consequences and the Catholic Church didn’t give a damn.

Most people who have heard about my book want to know the answer to that question and also whether Merton had sex with Margie. To both questions, I have to say – read the book because if you knew the answers, it would take away from the dynamics of an inspiring, wonderful love story between two people who dearly cared for each other. And, while doing so, you will learn interesting facts about one of the greatest writers who ever lived and how his pre-monastic relationships with woman, starting with his mother, affected every facet of his life.