A little bit of memory

Last night, at Mark G. Harris’s request, we watched the video that Tim and I made on the Mississippi coast when we researched the area in 2004 for Three Fortunes in One Cookie. Those of you who’ve come to my LJ later may not know that our book was set in those coastal towns most impacted by Hurricane Katrina, and many of the places that dazzled us and beckoned the story of Phillip and the Godbee family out of our imaginations were destroyed just days before the novel’s release in 2005. I have not gone back to visit the coast in Mississippi because my online investigations were more than enough to break my heart.

Seeing the area–as it was–again, and seeing the charming little condo where we stayed, reminded me of the guest book we signed that May of 2004. Whoever owned our condo left the book for the perusal and signatures of those who passed through. That home on the shore is gone now, and most likely the guest book with it, including the comments of two writers who looked forward with optimism to using such a beautiful, interesting region as the story’s backdrop.

I suppose the reason I remember the guest book so particularly is because since 1998, I’ve maintained a guest book for the people who visit The Compound and stay in what was once called the Doll House and is now the TimLair. On each guest’s page, I include a photo from the visit and ask our visitor to fill out a card–not really to say thank you, although people do, because our friends and family have impeccable manners–but to give a little summary of what they enjoyed about the visit.

I got behind a couple of years ago but brought everything up to date just before Lisa and Mark got here. (Greg, since I didn’t torture you into filling out cards on your last two visits, I snagged comments off of your LJ–thank you for all the thoughtful things you always say).

Lisa and Mark graciously expressed their thoughts for inclusion in the book, and I’ve been going through photos to pick two to accompany their comments.

see more here

Thinking about my dolls (and for once, not in that Neely O’Hara way)

Today, Mark G. Harris (whose name I need to change in my cell phone to “That NC Stud”) posted a picture of this action figure:

I know, right? I mean, not only is he layered (hot) but he has fab hair. What I want to know is, WHY CAN’T MATTEL DO GOOD HAIR FOR MAN DOLLS? Let me give you some examples of poor Ken through the years.

poor Ken and poor Ken’s poor friends through the years

Time to get your Hump Day Happy on

Good grief, it’s Wednesday again. So here’s the drill. Give me a page number from 1 to 612 and an item number between 1 and 30 (if your number is too high, I’ll just keep counting to the next page), and I will give you something to be happy about from this book:

Let me thank you all for your concern after my post about the loss of my friend Riley. I’m okay. And sometimes I’m not. But in honor of Things to Be Happy About, here are some things that make me smile when I think of Riley:

The night he got clotheslined (literally) while running from my house, a story that made me laugh hysterically whenever he told it for the next [number redacted] years.

The rock he found on the ground and gave me because it’s shaped like a heart.

Forcing him to sing “Rocky Raccoon”–AGAIN.

His Bob Dylan story.

The way he pronounced certain words, for example, “leak” (I gotta take a link.).

The time I hid in his closet.

I’ve got way more than 14,000 I’ll bet, and I’m grateful for them all.

Hard to know what to say

When I wrote about you yesterday, I had no idea you’d slipped away.
Such a thing doesn’t even seem possible to me.
You’re always there.
You are all over my novel.
Including its dedication, which I usually write last.
But this time I wrote it first because this was in so many ways your book. OUR book.

Some things are just too hard to comprehend.

Of all the songs I could have thought about when I woke up today, this is the lyric that was on the pillow next to me.

It made me smile, and you’d know why.

I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more.
Well I try my best
To be just like I am,
But everybody wants you
To be just like them.
They say sing while you slave and I just get bored.
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more.

I love you. The only reason I can write or think or breathe right now is that I know you knew that.

Normally, I’d never put something this private here. But your absence deserves to be noted. The world will never be better for losing a poet, and I will never be better for losing a friend.

But you were here and I got to know you and be loved by you and love you. Thank you.


John Riley Morris
March 8, 1955 to January 16, 2008

archives for my reference

Button Sunday

I am immersed in all things Beatles right now–especially the music–as I write the final chapters of A COVENTRY WEDDING. (Did you already know that title? Or is this the first time I’ve mentioned it? It’s my editor’s choice, and I didn’t find out until recently. It’s a good thing he told me, as it made me realize I needed to put a wedding in the book. Good to know, right?)

The above button, when I spotted it online, reminded me of when I bought this album.

When I was in college, I became aware that there was a gap in my familiarity with Beatles music. I knew all the early songs–not that I was born then, of course, my being only 35 now, and all–and I knew all The Breakup Approacheth music (which remains as wonderful to me as it was the first time I heard it–probably also before I was even born, ahem). I was writing a paper one afternoon, alone in our old house on Twelfth Avenue in Tuscaloosa, when a song came on the radio. I fell instantly in love with the song and its singer, so I called the radio station and asked about it.

“You’re kidding me, right?” the DJ asked. “You don’t know whose song that was?”

“No,” I said.

“It’s a BEATLES SONG. It’s ‘Here, There and Everywhere.’ How can you not know that?”

Grateful that my friend Riley would never, ever know that I didn’t know that, I said, “Okay, so who was singing it? Because that wasn’t the Beatles. I’d have recognized the Beatles. And there were no female Beatles.”

“That was Emmylou Harris.”

“Who’s Emmylou Harris?”

DJ: (longsuffering sigh)

So the first time I could scrape together some money, I bought this album:

thereby beginning my decades-long admiration for Emmylou Harris. And later, when I was no longer an impoverished college student but an impoverished teacher, I bought the Beatles’ Love Songs album so I could have both versions. “Here, There and Everywhere” remains one of my favorite songs, and you can bet it will be mentioned in A COVENTRY WEDDING.

You can make me (and Riley) happy and listen to the original on YouTube.

Previous posts about Riley:

October 14, 2007
December 27, 2006
June 24, 2006
December 8, 2005
September 30, 2005

Hump Day Happy

I’m sorry that I’m such a dull LJer lately. It will get better, I promise. Meanwhile, I figured why not add a new feature to Photo Friday and Button Sunday. I’ve decided to call it Hump Day Happy in honor of Wednesday, and you get to play along. Here’s how.

Years ago, when I was an assistant manager at a bookstore, I picked up this little item:

I recently rediscovered it when shifting books around. It’s 612 pages long, and every page has a list of 15-30 items to be happy about. If you want something to be happy about, in my comments, give me a page number between 1 and 612, and an item number between 1 and 30. I’ll locate that particular “thing” to be happy about and tell you. It may be silly. It may be something you’ve never thought of. It may give you an idea for a story or a post or a blog entry. Or it may just make you giddy with happiness on a Wednesday. If not–what the hell is wrong with you, do you just LOVE MISERY?

Comment if you please.

Photo Friday, No. 76

Current Photo Friday theme: Best of 2007.


My “Best of 2007” is a repeat of the first photo I posted this year.
My New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day were just a taste of a year
that ended up being full of more of the same–friendship, fun,
good times, strange times, accomplishments to feel good about,
disappointments to grow from,
things that made me think and laugh and cry.
It’s been a crazy busy and unbelievably fast year.
I’m thrilled to still be here,
still celebrating every day, even the rough ones.