Writer Ellen Morris Prewitt Blog

Mother Mary Commutes to Memphis

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 26, 2017. Posted in Stories & Essays. No Comments on Mother Mary Commutes to Memphis

(“Mother Mary Commutes to Memphis” first appeared in The Pinch) “Elvis Presley Enterprises shall exclusively own all now known or hereafter existing rights to the submissions of every kind throughout the universe.” EPE Legal Notice White robes squashed against blue-swirled upholstery, wads of chewing gum lined on a fuzzy armrest. The salty smell...

Model for Deception (an excerpt)

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 26, 2017. Posted in Stories & Essays. No Comments on Model for Deception (an excerpt)

(excerpt from Model for Deception, a Vangie Street mystery, currently being shopped to agents) The Next Step kitchen was abuzz with activity: one man was washing dishes, another removing clothes from the dryer, someone else peeling a cucumber. I walked through the room at a clip, not only because of the slightly unpleasant smell of leftover...

The Dress

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 26, 2017. Posted in Stories & Essays. No Comments on The Dress

(“ The Dress” first appeared in Skirt Magazine)) In the Beginning was the dress. And the dress came up from New Orleans and lived in a closet in Memphis and waited for a party. One day, the husband said, “We have a party.” And the dress came out: the velvet-flocked, spaghetti-strapped, leopard-printed, spandex-induced dress. And the dress...

The Old Timers

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 26, 2017. Posted in Stories & Essays. 2 Comments on The Old Timers

(“The Old Timers” first appeared in River Teeth) On August 7, 2001, I stepped into the 50th Anniversary celebration of the discovery of oil in Williston Basin, Williston, North Dakota. I knew no one. My family had not been back to the Williston Basin since the December night in 1960 when my father had run his car into a train—as squarely-hit as...

Held at Gunpoint

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on July 26, 2017. Posted in Stories & Essays. 2 Comments on Held at Gunpoint

(“Held at Gunpoint” first appeared in Image; the story received a Special Mention from Pushcart Prize) A new couple—a white couple—came to the funeral service, but Preacher Butler went ahead and told it anyway. “Morgan Cook served sixty-five years in this white folks’ pigpen and now he’s gone to the resting place.” Everyone nodded—they hadn’t...

I Live in a Post-Katrina World

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 15, 2017. Posted in General, GRIEF. 2 Comments on I Live in a Post-Katrina World

When I was a child, one of my favorite places at my grandparent’s farm was the hill above the big lake. There, a square of concrete hid beneath the pasture grass. In the springtime, yellow and white daffodils pushed through the grass and bloomed in swaying clumps. Someone had planted the flowers; they spilled down the hill. We children...

Memories in My Yard

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on June 10, 2017. Posted in General, LOVE. 8 Comments on Memories in My Yard

Since I quit practicing law, I’ve done two tasks first thing in the mornings: clean up the kitchen and check on my plants outside. The latter was on hiatus for several years. My hips went to crap, and I quit working in the yard. Since the hips have been recovered, I haven’t had a yard to work in. I do now.

Tearing Apart Your Manuscript

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on May 15, 2017. Posted in Racism to Reconciliation, Writing. 9 Comments on Tearing Apart Your Manuscript

I know, I know—I’ve been missing as of late. For two months, I’ve been holed up inside my novel doing everything I can to meet a self-imposed deadline for revision. The first of March, I received a reader’s report from my paid editor on JAZZY AND THE PIRATE. As you, my readers, know, I’ve been working on this novel...

The Bigmama Rose: An Easter Story

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on April 14, 2017. Posted in General, LOVE. 6 Comments on The Bigmama Rose: An Easter Story

The rose is scraggly. Its head droops. The petals cannot hold their shape. It’s damn lucky to be here. One Mother’s Day, a long time ago, my dad gave my grandmother a rosebush. The bush was planted beside the lattice gate. The two-story, white-columned house has a grand front door, but everyone comes and goes through the back...

No One Was Asking for It

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on March 17, 2017. Posted in FASHION, General. 16 Comments on No One Was Asking for It

One winter day, I was walking through the parking lot at Laurelwood Shopping Center. Laurelwood is a safe, comfortable place. I was in my late 40s. A woman stopped me. She was gray-headed, probably mid-60s. She grasped my arm and, like Coleridge’s ancient mariner, fixed me with her gaze and said, “Young men are going to jump out...