I’m a Mississippi native, happily transplanted to the Northwest twenty-five years ago. As Jesse Winchester (RIP) croons, I love living “with my feet in Dixie and my head in the cool, blue north.” I love Northwest evergreens and Southern magnolias, Pacific salmon and Gulf shrimp, Jimi Hendrix and BB King. I’m a blessed wife and a smitten grandmother. I was a wild, self-destructive youth and am happy for the writing material those days provided and that I came through them mostly sane.
Mostly. I obsess a bit about my novel, especially in the middle of the night. What will Lissa do about that baby? What will she do when Glo Girl threatens to expose her? Were blacks and whites really that separate in the Mississippi 80’s and 90’s? Can I show the relationships between them in a way that’s engaging and real? Can I go back to sleep? Please?
My plan is to stay sane and finish The Shame Stone this year. Or not stay sane but finish it. Staying sane and not finishing is not an option. My old therapist self would have questioned the health of this. My writer self doesn’t care.
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