Southern Hospitality isn’t just a phrase. I am a stranger. I am welcome.
I love Southern cooking even more than I realized. May have to go shopping for a Mumu before I return home. I finally stopped “checking in” on FB because I’m ashamed that all of the places are restaurants.
No matter how careful I am, I leave things behind in hotels.
In much of the South you get your picture “made,” not “taken.”
It is less expensive to pay to check two bags on an airline than to pay for weight overage on one (My sincere apologies to my publisher.) This of course was information readily available to me had I checked; and yet I don’t think I could wrangle another bag on my travels with daily hotel changes and various modes of transportation, so it was a bit of a moot point.
A fine Southern Gentleman (and mother) at his first book signing. (Photo: FoxTale Book Shoppe
Driving in the Atlanta metro area is confusing and hair-raising. No road runs straight. Ten lanes of traffic is the norm. Many, many streets have multiple names, one to the right, another to the left. Names are reused on different streets and roads with things like SE, CONN or EXT tacked on the end that might indicate meaning to locals but really messes with me and my GPS.
Hotel air conditioners use fake thermostats…I’m convinced none of them actually control the temperature in the room.
3 weeks without my yoga class are going to cripple me.
My Yelp app on my phone is indispensable.
And most importantly: Booksellers are a vast ocean of secret (and yet easily accessible) knowledge and a sometimes untapped resource for booklovers. I have left every book store on this tour with a new and lengthy list of books to add to my TBR pile. I want to share my fabulous discoveries with you. I’ve asked several to be guests on my website with their recommended reads. Too many good books languish in the shadows. Let these booksellers guide you to some wonderful reading.
When I was seven, the only reason I even thought about the President of the United States was because he had kids and there were magazine pictures of them in the White House. That held true until November of that year when I watched a black-and-white TV as his flag-covered casket being pulled through Washington, D.C.
When I started writing this book, I was amazed at all of the little details of that time that popped back in my head, things I hadn’t thought of for years. I was able to incorporate some of them into Starla’s life as “color.” Of course, since I was so ignorant of the greater world, there was a great deal of research involved in this book, too. Let’s face it, a seven year old in Indiana (probably some adults, too at that time) had little awareness of in the segregated South. Current events were scraps of overheard adult conversations, incomprehensible in their far-reaching implications and had little to do with me.
Once you’re past the trial period and have decided to go on together, that doesn’t mean you’re married for life. You may sail along on similar seas for eternity. But quite often there comes a time when you need to write that Dear John/Dear Joan letter. Sometimes you outgrow a critique partner, you’ve given each other all you can and now it’s time to move on. Sometimes one writer’s goals change, you may both start as casual hobby writers, but may change your commitment to the craft in either direction. Sometimes time and distance become a problem. And sometimes there has been a thread of toxicity stinking up your relationship from the beginning and has grown to be a serious detriment to your creativity.
Once you find someone you think you might be compatible with, it’s best to start with some parameters. Whether in person or online, set up a trial run with some structure.