Central Station Hotel

When I heard Memphis developer Henry Turley was renovating the old central train station into a hotel, I was ecstatic. When I heard he was turning the current ticket office for the train into a bar, not so much. I ride the train. I use the ticket office and waiting area when coming and going on the train. I did not want developers to take a...

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South Main, Y’all

In my neighborhood, Saturday mornings are: guests brewing on the sidewalks outside coffee shops women so new to their bicycles that I walk in the street to stay safe an elderly hat-wearing man who could be a prophet or celebrity. Or homeless. headphones and horn honks and posing for photos in front of the Blues Museum cowboy boots...

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NOLA Magic

Do you ever find yourself quoting yourself from an earlier conversation you’ve had? Me, too. So here’s a post I posted on Facebook recently. I thought I’d share it with y’all. Tom and I walk Evangeline down the street, and I remember when we first arrived in New Orleans almost eight years ago. I spent every day...

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Memories Unearthed by Dorian…

She was young, the same delicate age as my vulnerable grandson is now. Full of pip, but spindly arms and legs, no bigger than a minute. All she’d ever known was the lapping of the Gulf, innocent of actual waves. Even so, had she grown up with the Atlantic, it wouldn’t have mattered. A riptide is a riptide. We were exploring our...

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As Naked as You Wanna Be

Each time we appeared in public, we wore fewer clothes. My sister, my cousin and I – Redbird Brain Productions – hit Capital Street the first time in long dresses, flouncy skirts and, for me, a full-length carrot costume. We were “Goon With the Wind,” a walking-float in the annual St. Paddy’s Day Parade. When we rounded the corner, 75,000 people...

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Flowers that Stink

I like flowers that stink. But then, growing up, I loved the smell of dry cleaning fluid that seeped through my grandparent’s Everyready Cleaners. Driving to their house, when we passed the linseed plant, I’d roll the window to suck in the sickly sweet air. Unwatched, I’d crawl into the back dash of Mamo’s Dodge to get close to the hot cardboard...

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Two Southern Authors

Carson McCullers? Eudora Welty? What better company could I ask to be in? Take a minute and read the wonderful review Susan Cushman wrote on THE HART WOMEN. Plus, read all the way to the blog Comments on for more on this gem: “An intergenerational story set in Mississippi, I was intrigued from the first page and finished the entire...

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I Assumed You Were Like Me

I wrote a book, and I made an assumption. I assumed you were like me. I assumed that, some nights, as you fall into that state before sleep actually takes you, you startle awake. When that happens, you remember that moment when you quit going to see your grandmother in the nursing home because you were flush with new love and you abandoned her as...

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Buy Your Tickets Today!

We’re having a grown-up event at Novel Memphis. It’s happening two weeks from today. The celebration is for THE HART WOMEN. I wrote the story. Marisa Whisett Baker is hand-sewing it into a novel. The event will have tickets and everything (the tickets are so Marisa will know when she’s made enough books). You can read about Marisa’s...

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Eternity or Bust

When I read the theme for the summer issue of Exterminating Angel Press was “Eternity or Bust,” I knew I had the perfect submission. Thank goodness Tod Davies of EAP: the Magazine thought so too. I’m grateful to her for including my piece in her fabulous magazine. The short story is an excerpt from my novel THE BONE TRENCH....

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