Ramblings. As in: Have Words -Will Ramble. As in: Ramble: to write or talk aimlessly or without sequence of ideas, to proceed with turns and twists; meander As In: observances of an everyday life in passing through the spectrum of extraordinary.
Southern Voices, Kind Words, and Wild Road Trips
Monday, February 22, 2010
Once again I am overwhelmed with the goodness in my life. Not that it hasn't been without struggles and sometimes I feel like that old Pilgrim in Pilgrims Progress but today, reading emails from readers and from attendees at the Southern Voices conference I feel just like Jimmy Stewart reflecting during an interview and saying, "It really has been A Wonderful Life."
I had the great honor of presenting Saturday at the Hoover Library Southern Voices Conference. What a perfect venue the Hoover Library Theatre was. The fact that it is 'A World-Class Performing Arts Center' was no surprise. The Library Theatre features an annual program of gifted performers throughout the year.
The weekend opened with a special evening with United States Poet Laureate Billy Collins. I have long been a fan of Mr. Collins so it was a special treat to hear him read (perform!) his great work to a thoroughly delighted audience. For note - he was as funny off stage or riding in the shuttle bus as he was larger than life under the lights. The weekend proceeded with presentations from a unique mix of world voices keeping with this years theme, WINDOW TO THE WORLD. Authors Ridley Pearson (Killer Summer), Marc Fitten (Valerie's Last Stand), Masha Hamilton 31 Hours and The Camel Bookmobile), Ad Hudler (Man of the House), Rheta Grimsley Johnson (Amercia's Faces), Todd Johnson (The Sweet By and By), and yours truly embraced an engaging audience. Diane McWhorter (Carry Me Home, Birmingham, Alabama: The Climatic Battle of the Civil Rights Revolution) wrapped the presentations with a thought provoking keynote address on racial views both past and present in Birmingham, the South - and yes, the world at large.
Those unsung heroes of the written word, the book sellers who work so
Our weekend was sealed by a night performance with grammy award nominee Ruthie Foster and you can color me a fan for life! What a great evening and a special treat for me as my husband, Owen Hicks was able to attend the entire weekend with me as my love and escort. (Our busy agenda's don't always permit Owen to travel with me but I delight in every opportunity we get to travel on the road together - and ain't that sweet!)
A special thank you to the Hoover Library, The Mayor of the City of Hoover - Tony Petelos, The Hoover City Council Members, The Hoover Library Board of Trustees, Library Director Linda R. Andrews, and the incredible staff including charming talent scouts Carrie Steinmehl and Amanda Bonner. And kudos to the countless volunteers and shuttle drivers who took such good care of us. You all made this event such a memorable experience for so many people I know we'll be talking about it for years to come. Thanks to Ruth Baird Shaw's (the Book Seller at St. Vincent's) timely question about the Great Southern Wing & Prayer Tour I was able to bring up the fact that it is just around the corner and my hopes are so many of the people that were at Southern Voices will be able to join fellow friend, author, radio host and the Belle of All Things Southern when we return to the Hoover area on our visit to Birmingham. We will be kicking off the tour in style at the Loveless Cafe for fried chicken and ice tea - and BISCUITS! And as Shellie would say - Ya'll c'mon and join us. Then we'll be off to Landmark Books in Franklin and to keep up with the rest of this wild radio road trip you'll have to follow the link to http://www.wingandprayertour.com where you can find all the latest tidbits including our stops, packing list, and friends popping in to say hello at a store in their hometown. There will be daily giveaways and drawings at every bookstore stop along the way and we do so hope you can join us life and in person. If you aren't in a city on tour you can still be a huge part of the fun by being an Angel Tour Tracker through the website,
 Another Question from the audience was what I was working on now and when would my next novel be out. I'm currently rounding the corner of some of the final edits for The Miracle of Mercy Land, September 7, 2010. To make certain you get your copy asap you can pre-order now through the web or thorough your local bookstore. I'm just more than a little taken with the character of Mercy Land, the setting the story takes place in (Southern Alabama and the Coastal area in 1938) and the wild and wonderful story that unfolds within it's pages. I hope you are going to love it even half as much as I do!
The other project in the works is a new work of non-fiction titled, Praying For Strangers. The book is a surprise as it is based on a little Resolution I decided to embrace at the end of 2009 - to pray for a stranger every day of the year. The stories that developed over the course of that year and beyond, have been a gift to me. It's my pleasure that Penguin will be making these stories available to you in 2011 so please listen for more news and updates about the developments of this project. The response from the audience at Southern Voices was more than a little receptive. Thank you to those of you who have already written to me with follow up emails sharing your own stories and comments.  I tried to read just the tiniest portion of various works at the conference and one of those was the little true story essay collection - The Deep Down Dirty South, A Southern Girl Recollects. (For those who would like to order a personalize copy you can contact Little Professor Books and they will be delighted to take your order, see that I sign it just for you, and get it shipped to you anywhere USA or beyond.) I was also able to share about my journey as a writer, talk a little bit about my Mama, and share a few family insights. What I forgot to mention is - Yes, Mama is very proud of me and is beginning to give up her hopes that I will become a Pharmacist so I have a good steady paycheck and an insurance plan. For the record, she has read all my books and Saints In Limbo is her favorite Novel to date. She also adores the collection of essays.
As you can see it's been a busy year already and it's just beginning. But no matter how busy my schedule may be (and aren't all our schedules busy now?) when I opened my email in the morning and read letters from readers you really have no idea how important you are to me. Your words inspire me and make me want to continue to return to the page again and again to say what it is to have been human.
In Closing - Here's my note This morning from READER Frank Shelton. "River, I just at this very minute (actually Saturday night about 8:30...) finished reading the book you sent me, The Deep. Down, & Dirty South. I have a question. Is it the birthright of being Southern, something about the DNA of all Southerners, or perhaps just maybe we are long lost kin, somehow related, these tales told of a childhood and the kin contained within, and a world so near, yet so far, that reading this book is almost in so many many ways, like looking into a mirror of my own life? Your kin and mine seem so much alike, only the names changed. Names and places. Not Florida in mine, but Mississippi. Not pine woods but Mississippi hills and farmland. I think perhaps it just that the times were special. So personal. Simpler, but with ruff hewed edges and less style and fashion, but more meaning and feeling and touch that I can feel these stories of yours intertwine with mine. I never knew my Grandfathers. Grandmothers, on the other hand, I knew well. And Aunts and Uncles and cousins and friends. Summers spent half at one set then the other half at another. More fun than was legal, but so innocent in youth. Words spoken in your book I can hear in the familiarity of my mind. It seems with each story you told of memories past offered up ones of my own. Memories cherished and held as treasure. Stories. That after reading the stories that you recollect and share, cause me to think that just maybe those treasured memories of mine might be worth the telling after all. I think I’ll start putting some of those tales down. Perhaps not for a book so much as for posterity , and so that my daughter might better know from where she came. My history is hers too in so many ways. People and memories of the past can only die if we let them after all. If what you intended with your book was to honor your past, and in turn make us remember and honor our own, you've succeeded to the utmost. Thank you, Frank"
In response I have to say, Frank - I only intended to make those beautiful readers The Pulpwood Queen women happy. To put down my stories for them the way they wanted me to. It was just a gift but like words are meant to be, the gift has continued giving. I do believe you are a storyteller -and story KEEPER natural born and bred. Thank you for taking time to read and to write me.
And to all -
Keep reading and keep believing. I hope to see you soon on the road and yes, I'll be coming in on A Wing and A Prayer!
River Jordan
posted by River Jordan at 10:48 AM
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Where Do the Lost Things Go To?
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Lost and found. That's what I am. It's my perpetual state of movement through this world. You know that little pig pen kid on Charlie Brown? The one that moved through the world with a constant cloud of dust and dirt? That's me except mine is a state of losing and on my better days - finding said lost items. If you think I'm exaggerating go ask my mother. As a young child I constantly existed in a state of missing. A sweater, a pen, a notebook, a lunchbox, a new coat.
Present day my husband constantly says, YOU LOST WHAT?! YOU LOST THAT?! (And never mind that because of my dysfunction he immediately blames me if anything of HIS is missing! As if my walking pasts it in the room caused some ripple in the placement of all items once located in friendly places.) And I calmly reply , "It's not really lost, it's just on the move. It's going to turn up. I have a statute of limitations on what real lost is but there's no hard and fast rule.
Car Keys, glasses, cell phones, journals, bills, books, are always in this everlasting shift of some kind of quantum physics experiment of time travel. I have this vision of all my things warping in and out of real time and real existence to some mystical forest -my future perhaps? -where I will find them waiting in odd spots, tucked under cushions or in obvious spaces.
Case in point: My most recent investment for radio show travels and interviews - a beautiful little high tech piece of recording equipment that picks up high caliber sound and allows me to record in all types of settings recommended by fellow radio host person the Belle of All Things Southern - But I came back from the Pulpwood Queens great Girlfriend Getaway Weekend and it was MISSING. Now, I knew I had it with me when I left Texas. Had seen it right there next to me in the Jeep. Unpacked right away like a good girl. Then spent the next week tearing the house apart - apart I tell you - searching for this little jewel. I found every type of attachment that came with it known to man and then some. Attachments to other attachments that belonged to things I don't even own anymore or that have finally gone into the permanently for really, really lost category and will never be seen again pile. But no nifty high tech recorder. I tore suitcases apart six times that I knew were empty. I searched Under the couch, the beds, the dirty laundry. I unpacked the Christmas decorations just in case it had somehow crawled into the closet on it's own accord and planted itself beneath the nativity scene or the authentic plastic elves. I frisked the dog, my husband and myself. I searched the jeep three times before it hit those poor deer - and then I called the body shop twice and asked the man to search it again. I considered crawling through the attic and searching there. Nevermind that we don't have an attic. That wasn't going to stop me. In other words, I was losing my mind over the fact that this brand new expensive really, necessary work tool was missing and that somehow once again in life I had LOST something. Then, opening my briefcase yesterday to pull out something totally unreleatedm y hand pulls up this little black bag holding said recorder. Exactly how many times do you think that I had searched MY BRIEFCASE of all places. I'll tell you how many - all of them. A thousand times a thousand.
Now - theories upon theories may abound. God in All his infinite mercy put the thing in there so I'd stop praying about that stupid little recorder and get on to more serious things. Or that theory of time travel and my lost things always jumping ahead of me to some point in my future. I don't really know. And there isn't even any point in me telling myself it will never happen again or that I'll just keep things in one assigned spot. My life doesn't work on assigned spot. I've tried it. It's more like controlled creative chaos. Okay, okay - just more like creative chaos.
But I pine and ponder over the things that never back it back into my present state and time. A huge folder of every little card my boys ever made when they were small. All those handprints, and I love Mommies gone too many years now. (And I suspect someone I'm not NAMING threw them away as he was cleaning out our file cabinets!) My Great-grandaddy's old work stetson that my Daddy gave to me with the promise that I would never, ever lose it. Photographs, old quilts, first locks of hair, gold rings, heirlooms and jewels.
I'm thinking if Peter's waiting at those Pearly Gates where most people will ask life's toughest questions that I'll step right up and ask directions to the Sacred Lost and Found. But what I find there might suprise me in the end. Perhaps on this first day of Lent, if I could give up something, it would be my mourning over the things that have slipped through my fingers in this natural world. Maybe I could replace that time with prayers over what I think that box up there might actually hold. A box of lost dreams and hopes; places where prayers have seemingly gone unanswered, where faith has been lost one tragic step at a time. Maybe I could invest a little time in wishing, praying even, for the lost things of others to be found more than my own. The things that matter most in life. Good karma for my car keys to turn up? Oh, who knows but no doubt a good way for me to focus my human heart more on my fellow man and a little less on me. And in my book that's one time I won't be losing a thing.
Keep reading and keep believing,
River
posted by River Jordan at 9:40 AM
1 comments
Snowfalls, Strangers, and Stories
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
We've entered into a new day as writers. Gone are the days of reclusive lives and incognito existence. Social media has thrust us out into the mainstream, lodged us firmly into the cacophony of human stories unfolding by the second on facebook and twitter. We are live and streaming, commenting and agreeing, making contacts seemingly by the exponential millions. 
But still - Eventually, a writer must allow themselves to be alone. Whether in a room or the quietness of their souls. A place where the true story rising to the surface of a deep and quickening imagination is not drowned out by that sea of the living. All wonderful folks sharing and caring or in hyper drive seeking and connecting.
Next week I have the honor of speaking at the Hoover Library Southern Voices Conference event. It is one of the best events in the nation and has already been sold out in advance. I dearly hope you were one of those ticket holder and that you'll be joining us.
BUT if you missed the event, we'll be back in the area soon for the Great Southern Wing & A Prayer Tour.
I am more than just a bit delighted to announce that The Great Southern Wing and Prayer Tour is locked into place. Landmark Books, in Franklin, TN will host the kick off on March 18, 3pm. Then we'll be off to Knoxville, TN, Elijay, Ga, Chattanooga, TN, Sylva, NC, Waynesville, NC., Foxtale Books in Woodstock, GA, Yawn's in Canton, GA, Bound to Be Read in Atlanta, GA - a super SIBA event squeezed in right here, and off again to Birmingham, AL, Montgomery, down into Fairhope, AL and back up to Lemuria Books in Jackson, Memphis and on to That Bookstore in Blytheville, AR to Reeds Books in Tupelo and wrapping up at Davis Kidd in Nashville, on April Fool's day night at 7pm no less! Find us on FACEBOOK and Follow us on Twitter and yes, there's even a hashtag - #wingandprayertour And to follow all the play by play moments of the tour including the packing procedure - just go to http://www.wingandprayertour.com You can catch fellow Southern author Shellie Rushing Tomlinson and yours truly kicking up a little dust as we hit the road interviewing book sellers, readers, and even each other for our respective radio shows - All Things Southern and River Jordan Live. Check out the map and come see us along the way. If you ca  n't make it send your buddy's in any of those cities as we will be giving away cool surprises every day and all along the way. And a special thanks to Literary Threads for joining the tour and providing us with literary giveaways. The newest novel The Miracle of Mercy Land will be available on September 7, 2010 and I can't wait for readers to discover this story set in 1938 in a sleepy, southern town on the Alabama Coast. Without giving too much away let's just say things are not quiet as simple as they seem.  A hundred years could pass, a thousand more, and writers will still have to seek caves of solitude to produce works worthy of the noise and bustle. And in this ever increasing day of electric connections, it's increasingly more difficult do just that. But sometimes life gives us snow storms, iced in days of quiet introspection. A nice clean landscape to grow silent and appreciate. And it's just this type of landscape that a poet must seek, a quietening, a blanket inside, a fresh fallen internal cover of silence so that even the slightest breath of a character speaking will be heard, the smallest light of truth, will illuminate, the direction a story - fiction or non- so clear the direction is as clear as footprints through a moonlit forest. I have serious business to attend to. Decisions to make. Projects to birth. Stories to write. A radio show to produce. And yet - Once again a new snowfall has exceeded expectations. Up on this hill every tree limb is softly layered. A band of snow and ice has taken up residence across this rustic road we call a driveway. My meetings and all my scurry, hurry may just have to wait. I might just be forced to stand at this window for a long time this morning watching the snow fall with a steady grace and listen to the stories wanting to be told. And in all this business of busy, and in the absolute need for me to get time to be alone and quiet to write, I've taken up the strangest habit of talking to a stranger pretty much every day of my life. Oh yes, there's a story behind that and it's a little more than just a random howdy do - but I've learned that taking that few minutes to truly connect with another human being out of compassion not obligation, has been a saving grace for me. Wherever you may be when you read this I hope you get all the multi-media fast and furious social media connections that your heart desires. And that you are able to carve out a little time to sit still in the hush and hear your own story rising to the surface. And I pray that when the opportunity comes you have the grace to listen to a stranger's story. You may be the only touch of kindness they receive all week. And in turn, I have no doubt that it will water your soul. Keep reading, and Keep believing. RiverLabels: Southern Wing and A Prayer
posted by River Jordan at 7:36 AM
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