Monthly Archives: November 2016

Emma June’s Brain Percolates

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From The Moonshine Thicket (1928)

“Frank never did anything to make Mama and Daddy fight. And, he had nothing to do with Mama leaving. Being mad at him would be like Choppers being mad at me for only having two legs.

“I’m sure.”

“And I never told Miss Helen you helped me with that delivery. Just so you know. So, we’re still friends?”

“Still friends,” I tell him.

I spit on my palm and stick it out for him to shake. He smiles and spits. I look him in the eye and shake his wet hand. Friendship, settled.

My brain percolates like Miss Helen’s never-dry coffee pot. I don’t worry about my questions. I worry about what Miss Helen will say when she answers.”

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The Shape Of Meta’s Being

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“I’m going to bet on MY ‘underdog-ness’ and give this a shot. Some might sigh a bit when they see a fellow blogger try to promote their work. But try we must.” CD-W

In a previous post titled, The Shape of our Being, I mentioned how our experiences shape our humanness, including the Carolyn Being (a work in progress). My “shape” shows up in my novels. In this excerpt from The Last Bordello, Sadie, a prostitute in a 1901 bordello, escorts the virtuous Meta (who accepted Madam Fannie’s offer to be the bordello’s pianist) on a tour of the city.

And truly, thanks for hanging with me!

“Meta, I know this is your first time to a big city. I want to be fair. There is something I want you to understand.” She paused, gathering my attention. “People in town know I’m a painted lady, a prostitute. Or, as some like to say, a lowly whore.”

“But—”

Sadie held up a hand. “Being seen with me is almost as bad as being a prostitute yourself. People will judge you. Your reputation could be tainted by merely being seen in my presence. I truly don’t want any harm or ill will to come to you. I don’t want you embarrassed by my company.”

Perhaps this was Aunt Amelia’s concern, what she wanted to tell me. If the public thought less of me for playing the piano at a bordello, I didn’t care. Weren’t even prostitutes and their customers entitled to the magic of music?

Unlashing Sadie’s grasp, I stepped a foot to the side. “Sadie, I appreciate your honesty. Now,” I said, my grin widening, “shall we walk back arm in arm like schoolgirls?”

Sadie’s white teeth glistened in the February sun. “Yes,” she said, interlocking an elbow with mine. “Onward to the next stop.”

Excerpt from an Amazon review:

“She uses the issues of the day to create a timely portrait of strong women supporting each other and taking control of their lives. Who would have imagined that these themes would still be as relevant as they are?”

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Elizabeth Cady Stanton, women’s right activist

 

 

The Shape of our Being

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Growing from a child into a young adult are powerful years. The “big” events and experiences during that period stick with us.

I would like to share something with you because it’s important to me.

In  a previous post, I mentioned how each of us has our own prevailing awareness — experiences that have formed our humanness.

In my case, the Carolyn Being.

At eight-years old I was told I was going to hell for not being Baptist. I tried to stand up for myself. It was hard. I was outnumbered. In tears, I ran home to my mother.

What I learned: It hurts to be judged by your faith.

A popular football player in high school pushed and mocked a blind student. “What are you doing?!” I shouted. For a second, I wondered who’s said that. I was not the confrontational kind and my words shocked me. They also felt good.

Later,  that same year, a young girl with Down Syndrome climbed up my body like I was a grand oak tree, clinging to me with comfort while others gaped, appalled. I smiled. I loved her strong and loving arms.

What I learned: Never poke fun at the physically or mentally challenged.

A friend in early 1970’s “confessed” he was gay. I said, “But you’ll still drive us around, right?”

What I learned: A good friend is a good friend no matter what their sexual preference.

In the late seventies, a friend used the “n” word in front of me. I told him to never do it again.

What I learned:  Friends may not share your values.

I learned about poverty while student teaching in a low income center across from the housing projects.

What I learned: We are not born in equal environments.

I witnessed a “clean cut” UT student, rip the metal trim off of the side of an old car that wasn’t his. I confronted him while my friend found the bar’s bouncer.

What I learned: It’s disrespectful to destroy another’s property.

After many more experiences were added to my Prevailing Awareness, I decided to enter the field of Special Ed then changed my major to Child Development.

So, I taught bias-free education to my teachers and at local and state conferences. This theme carries over into my novels.

tolerance

 

From my experiences, I learned to stand up for those who are picked on, faced with injustices, scrutinized and criticized for being “different.” I learned to stand up to the oppressors who try to crush another’s dignity in order to feel temporarily (and falsely) empowered.

That’s how I roll.

How about you? Do you have a particular experience/experiences that molded the shape of your BEING?

 

Words from my Emma June

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Eleven year-old Emma June from The Moonshine Thicket says:

“And then I remember. Betty had told Mama her husband died. Frank said his Daddy left. Betty Bedford lied to Mama. She’s a low down, no-account, good-for-nothing, loose-knee-ed, tarty, liar-mama.

I picture walking up to Betty’s shabby-shack and knocking out her teeth when she answers the door.”

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Daily Prompt: Tart

Booger Fishin’

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Daily Prompt: Fish

“I stand there waiting for Dad to say something about my tied shoes, how I’d done it all by myself without breaking a string. I probably could stand here all day waiting, but he doesn’t say nary a word. He’s got a newspaper to read. I don’t care. They’re my shoes, on my feet, tied my way.

We eat some beans and cornbread and Aunt Nolie stops chewing long enough to say, “Cono, yer Mom and Dad have business to attend to this afternoon and you need to stay here. Punk Squares is comin’ over and he’s bringin’ his son, Freezer. Yer gonna have somebody to play with.”

“What about Delma?”

“I cain’t watch her, so she’s gotta go with yer folks.”

I don’t ask Aunt Nolie why she can’t take care of Delma. I don’t complain about that good-for-nothing kid coming over. He’s younger than me and acts like a baby, always booger fishing and eating his catch. No, it’s best to stay on Aunt Nolie’s good side.”

Excerpt from No Hill for a Stepper.

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Do you have ASS?

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I don’t want to cut my fu..king ear off like Van Gogh.

Instead, I spit on creativity when I can’t sleep. (Not really. I love creativity)

How do you bloggers and authors, when your cozy and warm in your bed, stop thinking about what to write next when all you really want is to sleep?

I close my eyes and my mind keeps formulating words, plot points, better dialogue, better descriptions, an idea for a new novel. And now that I’m blogging? ASS is getting worse.

Those of you, like me, with ASS (Author Sleepless Syndrome) what do you do?

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So You Want to Wear a Safety Pin

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Good one.

isobeldebrujah's avatarWhat a Witch

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Great. This is a necessary behavior in the face of the election of the most overtly racist, sexist, xenophobic, anti- gender and sexual minority candidate in the history of the modern United States. You know the rhetoric of his campaign was wrong. It was the very worst thing about America and you want to do what you can to combat the result. Good. Do that.

But don’t do it without a plan. Because the very last thing a tense situation needs is someone full of good intentions but with no knowledge of de-escalation tactics or self-defense. Your intentions are not a tangible shield. If you don’t make a plan, you will get yourself or the person you are trying to defend very killed.

Let’s avoid that.

So make a plan.

Some of you can stop reading now. You have, or know how to make a plan and you don’t need…

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