Tag: novels

The archives

All this talk of sewing and such reminds me of a conversation my sister and I had with my mother when she (Mother) was in Shady Pines, Version 3.1. Someone with Alzheimer’s often doesn’t know where she is, but events that took place decades ago are as clear as if they just happened.

Out of the blue, Mother to Debby: Do you remember that skirt?
Debby: What skirt?
Mother: The black and white skirt I made when we moved to Ft. Benning.
Debby: No, I don’t think I remember that skirt.
Mother: I loved that skirt.
Me: I remember that skirt.
Mother (happily): You do?
Debby (doubtfully): You DO?
Me: I remember that skirt because I hid behind it when people spoke to me. I felt safe.

I knew to keep my explanation simple, but I remember that skirt for another reason: I used it in Three Fortunes in One Cookie.

My mother took me to the doctor one day, but she had no license then, so someone drove us. I’m not sure who, but either before or after the appointment, it must have been that person who took our photo. I can still feel the warmth of the sun, and hear the sound the skirt made when the breeze whipped it around my mother’s legs. I wasn’t afraid of doctors or hospitals by that time; still, my mother was, as always, a sustaining presence.

The scene was much different from the one I wrote in 3F for Phillip and his least favorite aunt, but the skirt whipped by the wind, and the happiness of the memory, was the same.

A little like collaborating again

Wednesday night was fun. After getting a ton of stuff done around The Compound during the day, I drove out to Green Acres and watched Project Runway with Tim. That wasn’t why I went; I’d have had fun watching it with Tom, too.

However, Greg Herren recently mentioned a silent auction in Denver to benefit the National Stonewall Democrats. They were looking for donations, including books signed by the authors, or art (paintings or prints)–I mean, come on! Democrats? Signed books? Art? I was ALL OVER THAT.

Tim and I decided to send them a signed hardcover of Three Fortunes in One Cookie. This novel remains so dear to me, and I love donating it to a group I support. Phillip, the protagonist, is an artist, and his character is truly a collaboration between Tim and me. I thought it might be interesting if we sweetened the donation by painting some little canvases (3 x 5 inches) in a way that expressed some facet of Phillip from each of our perspectives.

There’s nothing similar about the art that Tim and I create. Yet without planning it, even though our styles are so different, when we finished our paintings, I see them as a natural progression of Phillip’s style. Mine would have been painted by an adolescent Phillip; Tim’s, by Phillip in his twenties.

Your heart never forgets your favorite characters.

click here for a look

The first of I don’t know how many posts today

Or maybe it’ll be my only post today. We’ll see.

Greg Herren is supposed to read from James Joyce’s work at the Garden District Bookshop’s Bloomsday Celebration tonight. Wish I could be there.

On this day in 1904, James Joyce took a walk in Dublin with a chambermaid he’d met at a hotel. Their outing became the basis for Leopold Bloom’s fictional odyssey in Ulysses, another of those books I’ve never read. And the chambermaid, Nora Barnacle, became Joyce’s lover, companion, wife, and muse.

One of the most fun parts of writing fiction is when some chance moment from life–a meeting, an overheard conversation, a vignette told to me, a piece of art, a song, or a photograph–either inspires something I’m writing or gets woven into one of my novels. If the story hasn’t involved me directly, I generally ask and am given permission to use it.

Lynne has family in town, and last night I had a conversation with Aunt Lil. She’s never read Three Fortunes in One Cookie so it was fun to tell her some of the little stories I “borrowed” from her family for Phillip and his family. Though those things we writers lift from our lives may not have the impact on the literary canon that Nora Barnacle had, I think everyone’s fiction becomes a little truer and more alive because of them.


Aunt Lil with her great-great niece, Lila.

Once and future design

This image in Mark G. Harris’s LJ from one of those thirty-seven Star Wars movies:

made me think of photos I snapped in New Orleans at this restaurant on St. Charles:

When we walked in, there was only one other patron, but others began to arrive after we were seated. The restaurant had a feeling of good will, including smiles bestowed on a young mother when she came in with a baby carriage filled with snoozing infant. The food was nothing spectacular or exotic, just a good meal with excellent service. I had catfish fillets with fries, and Lynne had red beans and rice, which she doused liberally with Louisiana Hot Sauce.

What I most loved was the interior of the restaurant, which is where that Star Wars image comes into play.

Excerpts and covers from novels (particularly those of James Lee Burke) that mention The Pearl were framed and hung throughout the restaurant, which is VERY cool to me.

And this wall near the entrance reminded me of Phillip Godbee sketching on the walls of his New York apartment before he left for Mississippi in Three Fortunes in One Cookie.

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

I need a vacation

Monday I submitted an updated outline and the first half of the next Coventry book to my publisher after Tim read it and made some edits. (The final draft is due in January, and the novel–A Coventry Wedding–will come out in January 2009.) Then I worked on a big proofreading job for a client. I think I cooked spaghetti, too. I’m not sure what else I did, but it seems like there was plenty to keep me busy.

Tuesday I finished the proofreading job and delivered it. Then I took care of some TJB business. The cable guy came to move the cable into my new office. Actually, my new office is where I originally had my office when we moved into the house. I switched it to the guest room when Tim moved down from NYC and we both needed office space. Once we got wireless, he could office in the TimLair. Since I don’t need all the space I used to require, I’m going back to my little nook off the kitchen. This should mean fewer burned meals and fewer dogs quivering in reaction to the blaring smoke detector. We’ll see.

This week, I learned how to seal tile/grout. After letting the grout cure for a few days, I started with the new tile entry in Tim’s apartment. I probably have some pictures of the way it used to be, but they’re all packed. Still, I can give you a sense of what we’ve done over there.

Yes, more photos, are you surprised?

Photo Friday, No. 69

Current Photo Friday theme: Strength.


On a corner in Houston where the areas of Montrose and the Museum District meet, this live oak is what my friend James calls “Tree of Trees.” Today as I shot it, a group of tourists passed by, and I heard one say, “All of these are gone from Ocean Springs now, but that’s okay. We’ll just start over. The trees will be back.”

Featured in Three Fortunes in One Cookie, Ocean Springs is one of the beautiful small towns on the Mississippi Gulf Coast that was devastated by Hurricane Katrina. But he’s right, and I admire his stoicism.

There’s strength in enduring, strength in rebuilding, and strength to be learned from these majestic live oaks.

Heroes and Villains

My second grade teacher was my first villain.

Because I was often sick as a child, I grew comfortable in the quieter company of adults–my parents, older relatives, my doctors and nurses–and preferred their world to the noise and messiness of children. I was shy and timid, and my parents worried about how I’d be when I started school. They were able to entice me out of my shell by bringing a dog, our mixed breed Dopey Dan, into my life. Dopey was born to a dachshund whose owner tried to drown the puppies when he found out they weren’t purebred. My parents told me that as a result, Dopey was shy and afraid. I had to be brave so that I could teach him that it was okay to be around kids.

I had smart parents, and I was also fortunate to have other good adults in my life. Like the sweetest kindergarten teacher, Miss Harris, who acted like she didn’t know I once replaced my broken Crayons with Linda Bishop’s perfect ones. (Sorry, Linda.) Then I had a lovely first grade teacher, Mrs. Griffin, one of those ancient Southern ladies who smelled faintly of talcum powder and who had ample breasts that translated into smothering hugs in the most comforting way.

click here to read more

For all you treehuggers

Friday, Lynne and I had lunch at Beck’s (great name) on Westheimer. The burgers, steak sandwiches, and fries are good, but the food isn’t really why we go there. We go when we need tree energy.

You may recall from this post* that I have a thing for live oaks. Or you may have guessed as much from the way live oak history and trivia found its way into THREE FORTUNES IN ONE COOKIE. I think they are just fantastic trees, and we visited a couple of them today at Beck’s. I took some photos that I’ll put behind a cut.

click here for photos