RAMBLINGS of River Jordan

Praying for Strangers

2010-04-27T14:04:00.003-05:00

Many readers are aware that for 2009 I had one resolution - to Pray for a Stranger each day during the year. Just this morning I issued an invitation to a few friends to join me in something that I've been doing for over a year now - Praying for Strangers. For only 30 days ( or for a lifetime perhaps) and to briefly share their experiences here and on the the upcoming new Praying for Strangers website.

Responses to that request have been inspiring, surprising, and amazing. Many people have immediately embraced the idea and forwarded it on to many of their friends. And you know what? We just can't have too many strangers praying blessings on each other in their world you ask me. Even if they are never told someone is praying for them, I have a strong inclination that it will make a difference that day or somewhere down the line in their lives.

Personally, I choose to tell the person most of the time but that's just me. Okay - that's not who I was, that's who I have become in this process. Originally, I had no plans to tell anyone - just a general Bless 'em God and make it a really good year for them kind of prayer as I passed by. But then the prayers in my heart become more personal, more sincere. And then one day I decided to tell someone she was my special Stranger.

That woman's response and many others are included in the book Praying for Strangers to be published by Penguin in the Spring of 2011. I hope that you find it hopeful and inspiring and That it helps you embrace this great, big, wonderful human adventure.

Thanks for joining me!

River

Storming on the Hill

2010-04-24T11:59:00.002-05:00

We're getting those storms that drive people indoors. The kind that down on the water would cause you to head for safety. Here in Tennessee a basement comes in handy, a cave, a quiet space. I'm ready to find that room. You know the one. The magic room where writers go in and close the door and the entire world takes a hushed breath and pauses. No one knocks for lack of that one thing they are searching for and would you be ever so kind to find. No one calls just because they were wondering how your writing is going. There are no noises beyond the soft pad, pad, pad of the cats feet searching for a new place to nap. Even the dog doesn't bark. Even my own breath becomes more whispered as I pour over the words of other writers, inspiration to prime the muse up from my soul.

Here's to rainy days, writers lofts and hideaways and the peace that can find us in the still place.

2010-04-22T23:07:00.003-05:00

Just in from a great visit with Nashville area book club that has been meeting and discussing books for fifteen years. The list of their reads is amazing. Fortunately for this author it included their recent read of the month, The Messenger of Magnolia Street. By the time I arrived the women had feasted on food inspired by the novel, caught up on life and were ready to get knee deep into story. We peeled back layer after layer of character and meaning, discussed the plots finer points and various members took turns reading their favorite parts of the novel. They so inspired me that I wanted to come home and read my own novel again. Really. But they also generously gifted me with this basket so for the time they are remaining a top secret Nashville find as I don't want the seventy plus Nashville novelists to beat down their door seeking entrance and invitation.

Came home with a list of new books to read, new friends, and a beautiful basket filled with things dear to this road warrior writer's soul. The tuna? Because they loved my line from the Southern Wing and a Prayer tour, "Shellie, please pass me the tuna before I perish." A magnolia candle in honor of the title, chocolate almonds, ginger snaps, passion tea, journals, Evidence of Things Unseen and red daisy's. Time to draw the hot bath, brew a cup of tea, grab a ginger snap, and curl up with a good book!

The Essence of Time

2010-04-19T11:54:00.005-05:00

For any of you reading this blog on a regular basis you know that rooster has been crowing for a long, long time now. Only I haven't been there. I've been on the road again faster than I could turn around. Husband has been fishing a little and I've been writing around the glorious sunshine that is old home Florida before I head back to home Nashville. (He caught a few big ones including some he had to throw back!)

I've been thinking about time in this place where I seem to have never enough. Never enough for Mom, for friends, for all family, for writing, for playing, for prayer, for every good thing - including this precious thing I call work - in life.

I was able to have a great dinner with Mom at a luncheon held in honor of Pulpwood Queen Kathy Patrick by Kathy Clemmons Bennett. It was fun to introduce the Queen of so much of my inspiration to the story telling queen herself.

BUT still - not enough time to see high school friends, old buddies, Gulf Coast Writers - oh the list is long.

And yet, there is this. We all have the time we hold and while sometimes the choices we have to make about how we spend it seem confused and convoluted - even at odds with one another - a moment here and there, me making Mom laugh for a minute or vice-versa, a matinee that I rushed off to for a break, one long walk with Owen on the beach and us sitting and watching those stars while phosphorous danced in the water at our feet was the big, long breath I needed to be typing these words.

So many things have happened of recent that illuminate to me how precious time and story are. And I'll be sharing those soonest in an upcoming post on the Southern author blog collective A Good Blog Is Hard To Find. But until then -

This week I'll meet with book clubs from Florida and back again to Nashville to meet with a book club that has been meeting for over fifteen years to discuss books. (A club meeting I join tonight just read Saints in Limbo as their selection and an upcoming evening back 'home again' is with readers who selected The Messenger of Magnolia Street.) The fact is - you inspire me to bring stories back to the page again and again.

Your story is important to me and thank you so much for being a part of mine! Big white dog Titan and I will be heading back to Tennessee today on the close heels of husband Owen who had to be back for work engagements and I had the honor of staying for the fun part of work as I get to dine at Bay Point with the lovely ladies tonight. I'm sure the trees have are full of green, Mr. Smarty Pants has a lost a tooth in my absence and Miss Fancy has stories to catch me up on so I'll be homeward bound, back on the air in the studio for River Jordan Live Wednesday and looking forward to sharing time with you.

Just know beautiful reader that as you put your hand to the plow to write your words, do your work, love your people and live your life, I am thinking of you.

River Jordan

Rooster Crowing, Pages Turning

2010-04-06T13:23:00.003-05:00

The rooster down the hill has been crowing every morning. It's just after lunch now and he's still at it. I guess he has a lot to crow about. I'm a little suspicious that it is the fact that Spring has finally made her entrance. No question about it. Abundant blossoms, temperature's rising into the 80's as if Summer was just around the corner but then they drop again. The high this week on another day only 60 (a low temperature plenty for this woman) and lower still in the evening. So now husband and I have a temporary truce and have reached that middling' ground of his not bearing heat and me fighting the cold bearing down on my bones. Our windows are open and the wind is literally whistling across that little valley below us and up through these trees. The things that have been leaned into the windows in Winter's sleep are jolted from their spaces, flower vases, little pictures, tiny treasures, all tumbling from their hidden, resting places.

Other are things fluttering in those sudden gusts. The pages of The Miracle of Mercy Land waiting for a final edit. Father-in-Laws gift a few years past of a picnicking wine case has found it's greatest use yet as a manuscript loose-leaf page carrier. I'm pulling it from desk, to bed, to sofa, to bed again - trying to give

my back a break after that 21 stop /14 day radio road trip with author/radio host friend Shellie Rushing Tomlinson. We were in search of stories from booksellers and book lovers of all kinds. We found more than we were looking for when all was said and done. And the stories I have to tell are so varied, so layered, and amazing they each deserve their own blogging space. Be patient. They are waiting expectantly in the wings to be told. This Preacher of the Story making Road Trip has yet again solidified my belief that there is no better way stir up the story waters in your soul than the open road and a little time.

For right now, my homecoming has brought me right back to multiple deadlines at my doorstep. The Miracle of Mercy Land is being fine-tuned and polished and I can't wait to share it with you this September. The non-fiction work, Praying for Strangers will be published by Penguin Spring 2011 is wanting to be told now in it's entirety.

So, after an extremely public, highway reeling, jeep driving, story packed road trip, I'm moving back into that silent place where the words flow freely and deeply from this writer. I pray that as I find my way, your Spring season brings you arms full of all you've longed for in all the warmest ways.

River

Rooster Crowing, Pages Turning

2010-04-06T13:23:00.000-05:00

The rooster down the hill has been crowing every morning. It's just after lunch now and he's still at it. I guess he has a lot to crow about. I'm a little suspicious that it is the fact that Spring has finally made her entrance. No question about it. Abundant blossoms, tempertures rising into the 80's as if Summer was just around the corner but then they drop again. The high this week on another day only 60 (a low temperature plenty for this woman) and lower still in the evening. So now we have reached that middling' ground of husband not bearing heat and the cold bearing down on my bones. Our windows are open and the wind is literally whistling across that little valley and up through these trees. The things that have been leaned into the windows in Winter's sleep are jolted from their spaces, flower vases, little pictures, tiny treasures, all tumbling from their hidden, resting places.

Other things flutter in those sudden gusts. The pages of The Miracle of Mercy Land waiting for a final edit. Father-in-Laws gift a few years past of a picnicking wine case has found it's greatest use yet as a manuscript loose leaf page carrier. I'm pulling it from desk, to bed, to sofa, to bed again - trying to give my back a break after that 21 stop /14 day radio road trip with author/radio host friend Shellie Rushing Tomlinson. We were in search of stories from booksellers and book lovers and found more than we were looking for when all was said and done. And the stories I have to tell are so varied, so layered, and amazing they each deserve their own blogging space. Be patient, stories are waiting in the wings to be told and this Preacher of the great Road Trip being a place for making and discovering story solidified my belief that there is no better way stir up the story waters in your soul.

For right now, my homecoming has brought me right back to multiple deadlines at my doorstep. The Miracle of Mercy is being fine-tuned and polished and I can't wait to share it with you this September. The non-fiction work, Praying for Strangers is to be published by Penguin next Spring 2011 is wanting to be told now in it's entirety.

So I'm moving back into that silent place where those words flow most freely and deeply from me. I pray that as I find my way there, your Spring season brings you arms full of what you've hoped for in all the warmest ways.

River

Glory on a Good Day!

2010-03-28T12:23:00.004-05:00

I Was born to tell a story. But I was also born to hear one. That's the beauty of this thing we call being human - storytelling is two way street, it's a little give and take on both sides of the rocker. And a whole lot, I said a WHOLE LOT, of story telling has been happening on this Great Southern Wing and a Prayer Tour. It's been going on in Jeep Angel as she has been carrying us down the road on this 21 stop - 14 day radio road trip. Shellie will tell a story and I'll say wait, wait, that reminds me of a time back when I was a girl and we were out in the yard under a full moon. There was heat lightning filling up the whole southern sky -

And so it goes on like that for a few hours. Then we get to our next stop and fall in love with yet another book store, run our fingers over the spines, pick them up and turn the pages. Strange editions, small treasures, great stories abounding at every point. This book about Abraham Lincoln featured a picture and interview before he was elected. The photogapher began his story thus way: "Abe Lincoln was the homeliest man I ever met." I was facinated by all of it. The 1800's, the true words on the page, and the fact that I didn't think the photo of Abe was his worst one of all. Then he described how Lincoln's eyes would light up and how his two sons climbed all over him without ruffling a single homely feather during the entire interview.

It's that magic of words that connects us generation to generation. Yes, of course and art, and music, and sketches on the wall. But I'm a story girl so it's the stories that find their way to me, arms wide open and waiting.

I am on the road and turning the corner to head to southern Alabama, to Fairhope, as I write these words. The hotel people will soon be knocking - LOUDLY - if I'm not loaded up and out of here. But stay close, keep an eye ready and an ear open. I've got things to whisper. Stories from the road trip and beyond. You can catch up with the tour and see all the great photos of places and faces right here - Great Southern Wing and A Prayer Tour.

Blessings on this Palm Sunday. I'm thinking of you this morning.

Keep reading and keep believing,

River

Road Stories

2010-03-26T00:13:00.001-05:00

Dear Readers, Friends, and Family -

If you haven't received a new blog post lately, haven't had emails or phone calls returned, or have generally felt I was out of pocket - you are so right.

And here is why!

Just check out The Great Southern Wing and A Prayer Tour to catch up with the step by step, mile after mile, journey through six (seven?) southern States in Fourteen days.

I'll be back on this blog in full swing in no time but meanwhile - oh, do so please visit me!

And don't forget to tune in to River Jordan Live Wednesday WRFN Nashville 107.1 or RiverJordanLive.com live and streaming where I'll be airing interviews and out takes from the road.

River

On A Wing & A Prayer

2010-03-19T08:55:00.003-05:00

Yes, we are off! For all the latest news, updates, and whereabouts - check out the Great Southern Wing and A Prayer Tour. We've been busy getting to this point but now we have arrived and the road is long and winding in front of us.

We had an incredible kick-off Dutch Lunch with Author in Nashville yesterday at the Loveless Cafe and then off to Landmark Books in Franklin, TN where owners Joel and Carol spoke with us about the Digital age of the book, the true meaning of Storytelling, and the future of the written word.

Our visitors included Kory and Kelsey Wells - a mother and daughter team kicking it up a notch with their poetry/banjo performance.

Youtube videos of the tour in progress will be up soon and River Jordan Live will be featuring interviews and out-takes on the upcoming shows!

See you on the road!

River

On Being Human

2010-03-04T16:30:00.005-06:00

During my last visit to New York I carried a camera with me everywhere snapping random shots of the city, the people, theVillage, the park, the cathedrals - the LIONS- life in general. All that wonderful energy that is part of the city. When I went home and started really loading and looking at the photos, this one captured me completely. In this busy sea of humanity here was one man that had something else going on. Who seemed to be listening intently to something God or angels were whispering in his ear. And that he might just have an opinion or two to share of his own.

Now in keeping with my resolution to to pray for a stranger each day (Praying for Strangers (Penguin 2011) as I go walking through crowds of people, someone always stands out to me like this. It may not be someone who appears to be homeless. Matter of fact it rarely is. But there is always something that captures my attention, slows my walking, or has me turn around to consider someone again.

I think the fact is, I slow down. And instead of being like all these people in the background hurrying on my way, I'm listening privately to some private truth, some little secret, that will help me realize what it is to be human.

For now, husband has gone fishing. There is the promise of sunshine and warmer skies this weekend so big dog and I are scheduled for real walks among the bare trees. I'll get back to you soonest if there are any signs of Spring hidden among the branches.

Keep reading and keep believing,

River

Reflections From the Frothy Monkey

2010-03-02T13:02:00.006-06:00

Recent events in Nashville have led me on a solitary jaunt through Davis Kidd books, having lunch with The Book Thief (a work that is astoundingly original), and attending a wedding celebration at Belle Meade Plantation where author JT Ellison and her wonderful husband Randy joined in. (Congratulations To JT whose new novel THE COLD ROOM just hit stores and garnered huge praise from critics including the Chicago Tribune!)

For more on my bookstore meanderings visit A Good Blog Is Hard To Find on March 3rd as it's my official posting day for the southern blog collective.

If you are tracking the Great Southern Wing and A Prayer Tour just follow the blog along on the soon to be dusty trail as we are about to be heading out full steam for 18 stops in 14 days. And I'm still thinking Whose Idea Was THIS???? Yes, the clock is ticking. We have officially hit March and March 18th will see us kicking off the tour at Landmark Books in Franklin, TN 3-Forever!

For now we have (could it be) more Wintry MIX in the local forecast. Surprise, surprise but hang on. I'm looking at the calendar and you know what? I'm thinking that Spring is just around the corner and that it's real. Yes, I am. That it still exists and is unwrapping and unrolling itself with green stealthy surprise somewhere in the deeper South. That even as I type these words hanging out at Nashville's coffee house, The Frothy Monkey where people are shedding coats, scarfs, hats, sweaters all around me like seven layers of skin - that someday soon they'll only be wearing T-shirts and ready smiles with those laptops.

For the time being I'm thinking I'll plant a garden. I'm really serious about this year. Okay, okay, I'm serious about tomatoes. Maybe in pots. Big, red, natural, real tomatoes. I'm so serious I'm going to give my tomatoes names like Leroy, Ruthy Lea and Betty Sue. I'm going to name every one of them so that they know I care. And to prove it I'm working overtime to keep that one house plant alive. I'm apologizing to it for letting it get so thirsty while I was editing The Miracle of Mercy Land that it almost died. Really, really almost died. (To be honest I'm using the dead leaves and dropping for fire kindling.) But I'm soaking the roots and giving it a good talking to. Promising I'll do better. That I'll do the things people are supposed to do to keep things alive. I'm not certain what all those are but I'm willing to learn. But that's a really old story and if you don't believe me check out this link to an old blog Entry of mine about this time of year a few years ago titled Seeds of Change when my husband presented me with The Golden Hoe award.

Maybe this wilted, dropping (dying?) houseplant is just like me - it just needs a little light. Real earth time, God created Let There Be- you can feel it on your shoulders and inside your green- kinda light.

Sunshine. It could happen. Any moment now. Think I'll start searching for those hidden, early buds. Because I'm a die-hard hope springs eternal kinda girl and I'm still believing.

Southern Voices, Kind Words, and Wild Road Trips

2010-02-22T10:48:00.012-06:00

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

hard to carry our words and get them to the world were an invaluable asset to the weekend's agenda. Little Professor Books masterfully handled book sales for all the authors and Ruth Baird Shaw, The Book Seller at St. Vincent's Hospital honored us with her presence for the event.

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,

facebook, twitter and those upcoming youtube episodes. And we are delighted that BookCrossing has joined us as one of our official sponsors.

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

Where Do the Lost Things Go To?

2010-02-17T09:40:00.010-06:00

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

Snowfalls, Strangers, and Stories

2010-02-09T07:36:00.009-06:00

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 can'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.

River

NInja Deer and FtF Values

2010-01-30T13:40:00.003-06:00

Yes, the rumors are true. I hit not one, not two, but three deer on the way home. My husband kept asking - 'Didn't you see them?'

'They were ninja deer I tell you. They appeared from nowhere."

And so they did. I've been watching deer all my life on these rural southern back roads. And every other wild creature that dared to run out my way. I swear I brake for field mice, low flying birds, squirrels, and all manner of furry beast. But this time the deer got me. Or, you might say, I got them. All three. At once. Mama says I should call Ripley's.

The funny part is - and if you are vegetarian skip this part please -
My husband's first question was "Baby are you okay?" And I told him I was waiting on the police to file a report and that I was shook up but okay but that the beautiful jeep that everyone knows I love so much was hurt. He says - 'Don't worry, everything will be alright. We'll buy another freezer if we need to. I'm on the way to get the deer.' Really he does. Now, 1. I'm married to a grouper slaying mountain man who thinks about survival a lot. I know this because I once asked him if he got down to his last five dollars what would he do with it. He said - save it. 'Save it? till when?" "Till I had to spend it." 'On what?"
"Bullets to kill something to eat."
Hmmm, my last five dollars would be spent on a latte and something chocolate. Or I'd give it to the first homeless person I saw. Survival wouldn't be anywhere near my mind.

Okay - so the mountain man is seriously in his big truck to come get what I consider the Bambi's. We are not in survival mode mind you - I had just been to the grocery store and there is food in the jeep that now needs to be towed. But he is there for the deer and just about having to fight another man off who wanted to take those deer home himself and he got there first. I think husband pretty much said - my wife, her kills, my deer. Whatever cave man talk was needed the poor deers ended up at a neighbors house (yes, husband - thank you for not bringing them home to this tofu eating woman) where they became healthy food and part of the circle of life. I think husband then called all his friends to brag about the fact that I had bagged more deer at one try than they had all year. Trust me. I am so hoping this is the last time he is ever able to brag with such glorious passion.

For those of you who read this blog you know the jeep was a surprise after a long stay on the road where the old Nissan gave up the ghost and died and I had stayed hidden in a cabin infested with scorpions to write The Miracle of Mercy Land. Finding the jeep wrapped in a big, red ribbon when I came home was mighty good medicine for my tired soul. (And husband has such a great story of driving all through the night to the cornfields of Iowa to find just what I'd been wanting all year.) I named her Angel and hit the road again. And I have to say Angel and many more Angels were doing a great job of protecting this woman who made it home shaken and sore but alive. Three deer? Three? Wiped out and me left to tell about it. Well, you know I'm a thankful, thankful woman.

This happened later in the week after having a great social media jam session with some book people at the Nashville Pubic Library including writers JT Ellison, Darnell Arnoult, Susan Greg Gilmore, and Matthew Paul Turner. Agent Greg Daniel joined us to share his views of why agents think that authors should participate in social media and Counselor Ken Edwards wrapped the session by giving authors some great tips on still writing in the middle of all the social media distractions. Then we all walked to Demo's for a little face-to-face social grace. (ftf). Breaking bread together is still one thing we can't really do through the Internet. All Skype accounts aside.

Nashville has received a beautiful strange snowfall and the mountain man has grabbed a snow board to go hit the hills. I'm curled up thinking about words and road trips. About new radio shows, guests, and all the possibilities the year is bringing with it. About that new book cover I love for The Miracle of Mercy Land due out September 2010. And about the importance of relationships in my life be they developed through the graces of social media or with strangers on the street.

Keep reading, and keep believing.

River

Pulpwood Queens Girlfriend Getaway Weekend!

2010-01-18T00:45:00.016-06:00

Breathless.
I just returned from the 10 Anniversary annual Pulpwood Queen Girlfriend Getaway Weekend and that's just exactly how I feel. Breathless with exhaustion. Breathless with elation. Breathless with Thankfulness.
Few opportunities come around in life to celebrate anything so fully as those that Kathy Patrick and the Pulpwood Queens offer. Maybe a wedding feast that continues for three days and nights solid. My head literally swims with the rich images of authors such as Pat Conroy, Ad Hudler, Jamie Ford, Shellie Rushing Tomlinson, Patti Callahan Henry, Kerry Madden, Janis Owens, Jenny Gardiner, Nicole Sietz, Robert Leleux, Elizabeth Berg, Deeanne Gist, Linda Busby Parker, Kathi Kamen Goldmark, Karen Harrington, Mary Kay Andrews, Sam Barry, Melissa Conroy, Lauretta Hannon --- the list goes on for miles and miles and can be found on the website at Kathy's site Beauty and the Book - the only living, breathing beauty shop and book stores in America.

You might want to check back at the site daily for updates, photos, words, and blogs from authors who attended this mighty, wonderful, zany, upbeat, costumed, and very,

poignant celebration of reading. If reading was this much fun in school we would never have to worry twice about the future of reading or children embracing

stories between the covers of a book. For fun I've posted one of me with the distinguished Ad Hudler dressed as the great

and terrible Oz, Patti Callahan Henry, Shellie Rushing Tomlinson, Jamie Ford, me with the infamous Lollypop kids who are actually fans and a mother and daughter duo gutsy enough to dress all out and give us memories for a lifetime.

Pat Conroy presented the Doug Marlette award for a lifetime of supporting literacy to Mary Gay Shipley of That Bookstore in Blytheville. An incredible moment as the work and support of literature of three great people came together. (And Long live our beautiful friend author, Doug Marlette who passed on but is well loved and remembered. )

Pat Conroy made a memorable entrance by serving at the Thursday night author dinner - yes he did - and being one of the most giving, accessible, cheerful, supportive authors I've ever met. I've passed Mr. Conroy at numerous events but this weekend gave me ample time to watch this great writer treat other others with great support and understanding. Then he gave one of the best speeches I've ever heard. Funny, heartwarming, truthful, revealing. The good news - I ordered

a great recorder just to capture this and share it with radio listeners. The bad news - it was a new device and who knew you pressed record TWICE to get it to record. I only have the memory now and the stories to tell.

Friday nights event kicked off with a Barbie fashion show where the author paraded around in their own creations. This author is much more creative with the written word but I did toss in my at least I'll try and went as bookworm Barbie with icky rubber worms threaded through my hair.

Saturday night Pulpwood Queen chapters from Coast to Coast dressed up their finest creations representing different aspects of the Rainbow and the characters from the Wizard of Oz. If that wasn't enough - each of the chapters decorated their tables with completely original theme creations. These were the kind of things that you see in Manhattan created by professional companies that spend months planning events. And who left their camera at home? Me, me, me! For shame. I went as Rainbow Glitter Dust. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Seriously - you can't tell from any of the pictures but I am one thick moving cloud of glitter. I'm still trailing dust everywhere I go. The authors presented Kathy Patrick with a special gift of our appreciation - the beautiful, original artwork of the Wizard of Oz featuring the signature of the last, living cast member.

I had picked up writer Susan Cushman in Memphis to join the Pulpwood trip and on the way home we listened to Stranger Than Fiction produced by Kathie Kamen Goldmark and available at Amazon. What a treat to hear authors such as Stephen King sing Stand By Me. We'd stop the cd and Susan would read the liner notes about the next author song coming up and then we'd hit play. What a wonderful way to ride home from a great book event.

Now the funny part is - I don't do this kind of thing. Ask my family. Ask my husband. I'm not even that much fun. I tend to wear black a lot. I don't glitter and I sure don't costume. But now I'm already trying to figure out if I can make it back to Pulpwood Queens next year - and take my sister for a true, memory making sister bonding road trip experience.

I'll be talking about the event and sharing interviews with Pulpwood Queen authors and readers in the weeks to come on the River Jordan Live radio show.

The event came to close Sunday morning as Kathy Patrick invited authors to join her at the First United Methodist church for services. Those of us who didn't have to catch a plane in the early AM remained and did just that. Author Judy Christie gave a wonderful message. It was a great note to end on sitting in that pew, surrounded by authors and Pulpwood Queens, pausing and giving thanks for all that we had joyfully experienced the weekend. For the renewing of old friendships, the pleasure of making new ones, and the great celebration of literature that had just taken place.

Keep reading and keep believing!

River Jordan

2010-01-05T18:28:00.004-06:00

This past year I embarked on only one resolution. Just one tiny thing really. It was to pray for a stranger every day. Just someone I passed, or encountered on this great road trip we call being human.

Somewhere along the way it occurred to me that sometimes, not always, but sometimes I should tell the person I saw that they were my stranger. That I was praying for them, for blessings in their life. The chronicle of the reaction by these people and of the entire journey of this resolution, has been something that has been close to my heart all year. The images of those strangers, those faces, their hearts and fears and needs, are well grafted into my spirit. I will never forget them and I hope the little thing that I did made a difference in their lives. I know it certainly had a major impact on mine.

2010 has started off with an exuberance from people across the Internet. In spite of frigid - and I do mean frigid temperatures everywhere, people seem to really be rolling up their sleeves and getting back to work after the holidays with a gusto. I don't remember this exact same feeling last January. This feeling in the air, this mind to work. As a matter of fact, if anything, I remember a kind of Oh, do we have to go back to work already attitude prevailing. But now, everyone has reminded me of the line in the Book of Nehemiah 'for the people had a mind to work.' This has given me a great expectation for the coming year. There are people creating new blogs focusing on the positive, people stepping out to volunteer for the first time in their lives. Sometimes it just comes down to you have to make up your mind to make a difference in your own neighborhood. The kind of difference might be as independent as the man I saw walking down our country road with a garbage bag cleaning up the side of the road. On his own. No community service coordinator in sight or needed. Then I heard about the man that was going out on his own to buy paint to paint over gang graffiti. No committee, no town approval.

In this year I believe the smallest of seeds , of our being positive, of our reaching with compassion, with our willingness to roll up our sleeves, to say a prayer, to make a difference, will produce incredible fruit for all of us.

What I realize after my year of praying for strangers is that what matters to you, on the most basic of human levels, matters to me. What happens to you - happens to me.

I am wishing you great blessings for the coming year, love that is boundless, and a passion to embrace your dreams.

Keep reading and keep believing!

River Jordan

Happy New Year!

2009-12-29T21:51:00.008-06:00

We're rolling our way right into 2010. So here we go, ready or not.

It's a special time of year for me, this season between Christmas and New Years. I take my clean slate very seriously. Gotta make a list of all the people I need to forgive this year and wipe it clean. Gotta make a list of people I need to apologise to and make amends.

The tree is still up and I'm writing this in a hangover fog from the great Swedish Ginger Snaps that Mom brought. I start to roll up my sleeves and stare into the coming year with a wild determination. It's a good thing too, because as I begin the rewrites on the Mercy novel (title still in the works) due out in September 2010, kick off the new live radio program from WRFN 107.1 in Nashville next Wednesday at noon, and pack my suitcase to venture to the Pulpwood Queens Girlfriend Getaway Weekend 10th Anniversary, and then on the Southern Voices Conferences in Hoover Alabama I'm going to need all the determination and grit that I can get. Okay, okay - so I'm having a lot of fun rolling in words, and meeting readers on the air and on the road in the process. It still takes just a tad of concentration. And more Ginger Snaps!

This year has inspired me and tried me. I have seen the publication of Saints In Limbo and enjoyed its beautiful reception from readers across the nation. I lost my precious Aunt Kate early on and have felt that loss all year long. The new novel is finished and moving into edits and will soon be in readers hands in upcoming months ahead. I've had the pleasure of making new friends in my travels, spending time with my family, hosting the Adorables for a madcap spoil 'em like crazy vacation, and enjoyed the minds and company of Miss Fancy and Mr. Smarty from pants down the street.

I've road tripped with husband and alone broken down on the road, been stranded, towed, and left in the woods for a month to write - only to come home to find my dream Jeep waiting for me tied up in a red bow.

I've watched wild thunderstorms crash across my porch, sunrises through sleepy eyes, snowstorms cover a region, and watched an owls wings cast shadows across our wooded hill during a full moon. And I've been blessed to survive both sons being deployed to warzones and safely returning home again. Yes, it's been a great year. Full of magic and tears and one more year of my sloppy, beautiful life.

More soon on my resolution for 2009 and how living out that resolutions has changed me, but for now - I think I'll try to keep my plants alive in 2010. Just a simple little thing. Or maybe learn to make something with eggplant, learn a foreign language again, remember how to play chess, and write an old-fashioned letter to a friend once a week. Or jump out of a plane, or . . . I guess I really don't need a brand new resolution at all. Maybe I just need to give thanks for the past year, and reach my arms out wide to receive all that 2010 has in store for me.

In the coming year, I wish you a pure heart, a wise mind, a peace that passes understanding, and that in all the light and shadows of your breathing hours you know that you are loved.

Keep reading and keep believing.

River Jordan

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-17T09:22:00.005-06:00

I'm packing for the road again but this time it's not for book signings or wild and wonderful readers conferences. It's because Zaza and Baboo are hitting the road to visit the Adorables for Christmas. Amazing how many miles you'll drive to see a grandchild's little smiling face. Well you'll cross oceans, climb mountains, walk through burning deserts - so glad I just have to drive East for 12 hours and it makes the trip seem so much shorter considering what I would do to get to them.

As we drive East, Mama will be driving North to Nashville. She's packing Christmas goodies to come see her own little adorables that I'm blessed to have living only a mile away from me. Now - wait a minute. Isn't something backwards here? Are all the grand children supposed to be singing all the way over the hill to Grandma's house? Hmmmm. Well, nevermind all that - as long as I get little voices for a few days and big hugs with little arms all is well and same for my Mama.

She's also packing something special this year for me. It's our family nativity scene that she's gifting me so for the first time in my life it'll be set up in my house instead of hers. It's amazing to me how much it means, this simple little set, but I always knew that regardless of how big our tree was or how many lights we had blinking every room of the house (Mom decorates like nobody's business!) it was the Nativity Scene that reminded me of what we were really celebrating. A hushed a holy night filled with expectation.

The season continues to be busy for me just like I'm certain it is for you in your life. The radio program will return live in January 2010 in a new time slot of Wednesday's from Noon until 2pm. Travels for the upcoming year are being finalized for the Southern Voices conference and for the Southern Wing & A Prayer Book tour with author friend Shellie Rushing Tomlinson. New deadlines abounding, a new work of fiction set in Tennessee just finding its way to paper, edits for the great southern story of Mercy Land set on the Bittersweet Creek in editing stage and a few projects I'm keeping close under my wing - I have shopping to do, gifts to wrap, travels to make and so on and so forth but - - -

As I set out our family heirloom nativity scene this year what I want most to remember is a special night so many years ago and how that one hushed evening effects my daily life. What I want most is to remember an act of eternal love that transcends my complicated to-do list.

What I want most this Christmas is for you, for me, for all our families to have a holy, peaceful Christmas filled with love.

Blessings for this special Season and Always,

River

2009-12-10T10:59:00.004-06:00

It's turned serious cold in Tennessee. This morning the weather channel reported it felt like 12 degrees. I agree. I stepped outside to corral that big, barking dog of ours and grab some firewood and it was frosty. Perhaps, just maybe, possibly, we'll actually have a white Christmas this year. I've decorated for it and had the great help of Mr. Smarty Pants (my five year old nephew) and Miss Fancy (my eight year old niece). Their enthusiasm for all things Christmas literally knows no bounds and was delightful. They dug into the stored boxes of decorations with abandon, tested lights (where Mr. Smarty Pants told me "Watch and learn, River. Watch and learn," as he tested the workings of each string. They requested hot chocolate for this event, to watch A Christmas Story as we unpacked and began decorating, and popcorn to make the work go smoother. I must tell you flat out that this was a much better ambiance for me than husband who somehow manages to pull off a bit of that bah humbug Scrooge in his moment of channeling my Dad which converts to complaints of all this Christmas stuff coming out that's just going to have to be put back up. Yes, yes, the enthusiasm and wonder of those children made the day absolutely perfect. And the icing on the cake was that scroogeness husband walking through the house late at night as it glowed and twinkled and declared - Baby the house look all Christmassy beautiful. Oh I'll take that and nestle down to visions of sugarplums all day long.

My Christmas wish list is more than fulfilled with both son's stateside and out of war zones. So I'm concentrating on choosing some of my favorite things - that would be books - as gifts for other people. What a joy to tailor words of story to match the personalities of each. I love considering friends and family and thinking about all of the writers I know, all of those beautiful stories, fact and fiction, and finding the perfect one they will delight in.

But it's also going to be a working holiday for me as I begin the big edits for the new novel due out September 2010 from Waterbrook (Random House). It's incredible story about . . . well, just wait and see. It's southern, full of love and mystery and wonder.

On my moments that I'm not writing I'll be finalizing details for the big Southern Wing and A Prayer tour with Shellie Rushing Tomlinson to take flight March 28 - April 8 2010. Here's the projected tour route as we take our respective radio shows on the road to interview book lovers, book clubs, book sellers and even each other in a crazy seven state run. A wing and a prayer? Oh, you bet. Look for more links, and more news as the tour will be covered daily on twitter/facebook/you tube with fun giveaways for tour trackers.

I hope that where ever you are right now, the story of your unfolding life, is one that you are embracing with all your heart.

Peace to you for this Season,

River

2009-11-30T13:45:00.004-06:00

We're home again. Or at least back in Nashville. My wonderful friend Dr. Usoh explains to me that home is where you come from no matter where you live. In that sense we've just returned from home at least for me. My Pennsylvania man has more family members now living on the Gulf Coast than I do. Perhaps we are migrating - so that one day home will be, in every sense of the word inTennessee and not the swampy, Gulf Coast of Northern Florida.

I was delighted to be raised in a place that I can only call magical in every sense of the word. Stars and heat lightening. Green phosphorous sparkling in the moonshine on the salty water. Cypress trees in the swamps with night birds calling. Now, up on this hill in Tennessee, we have more coyotes howling, plenty of owls calling, dusty sunsets over the ridge, colder air, four clear seasons. It's a magic of a different kind and all it's own. And every year that we build a fire and burrow in, every year that I emerge from Winter amazed at all the shades of green that Tennessee offers up to me, or wade barefoot on the rocky soil of freezing creeks, it becomes more and more home to me. I go 'home' where Mama is, and return home up on the hill surrounded by trees to work, live, and write as best I see fit and can muster. I love big from up here. I guess that's the main thing and if you can keep loving life and the people that cross your path old and new, then anyplace you hang your hat can be called home with pride. I think one of my main criteria for knowing that I'm in the right spot is being able to hear, "Have agoodun." The interpretation for which is "Have a good day." But this is the land I live in where even the new immigrants of every shade will offer me a smile and say, "Have agoodun." I agree. It's what I aspire to. To not take this life for granted or the minutes that we've been gifted on every living, breathing day.

This past week has been full of travels and people to be thankful for. We've eaten turkey, dressing, pies, and cakes. We've watched football with the brothers and husband has gone fishing with that 'baby boy' just back from Iraq (they came back with grouper galore.) I've seen that son home from Afhanistan and we've gotten hugs and kisses from the baby Adorables. Now it's home to the writing, to radio, and work I love. My cup truely, blessedly runneth over with the blessings of this life. And you dear reader, continue to be one of those great blessings. The words mean nothing without your being a part of my life. I pray that as the week unfolds your cup also is overflowing with all good things. In other words I hope you have a goodun. A good day, a good week, a good life.

Keep reading, keep dreaming, and keep believing!

River Jordan

2009-11-23T10:46:00.003-06:00

It's crazy quiet up on this hill in Tennessee today. The kind of quiet that writers search for and rarely find. Husband has gone off to work, my youngest - just back from Iraq - is road tripping to visit friends - and here I am. Left in a bubble of fog staring through it over the bluff as the fire crackles and the dog snores. Yes, finally the waters of life have parted and it's writing time. And I have no small portion of that to do. As Saints In Limbo continues to find it's way into readers hearts (thank you so much for the beautiful emails from readers describing what Saints has meant to you), we move into the season of editing for the new novel due out from Waterbrook in November 2010. (More on that upcoming novel soonest!) But I am so fortunate that a new character has stepped into my soul, just an image of her standing on a hill at dusk and possessing all the strength of my Grandmother. I can see that much in her from my minds eye. And that's a funny thing because as I look out across this bluff this morning, feel this special blanket of quiet enveloping me and encouraging me to hush, be still, and write the words - I am missing my Grandmother. It's Thanksgiving week and husband and I are traveling to North Florida to visit our mothers but it's my old Grandmother that I'm missing most. Well, maybe it's that I'm missing what used to be. Missing a bevy of cousins and the fact that we had to do absolutely nothing for Thanksgiving but get into the car to go to Granny's house. And that once we arrived we'd be in the glorious company of aunts, uncles, cousins, mama's, daddy's - and we could play in the yard until we were called inside to eat. And the bounty would be no small thing I tell you. So as I settle down to write before our Thanksgiving road trip this week but as I do I'm reflecting on Thanksgivings past and this one we are in. I'm thinking it will be mostly a small and quiet affair compared to the days when that little country house of Granny's' was overtaken with souls from across the map that knew only one thing for certain - the way home. Home, the idea and image of home, has changed for most of us over the years. We are scattered like the stars across the globe due to work, professions, relationships, and the mature aspects of our ever increasing responsible lives. But I hope whatever home is for you, the best aspects of all that it means, finds it's way into your hearts this week in a very special way. Wishing you bountiful blessings and much love this Thanksgiving holiday.

Keep reading, keep dreaming, and keep believing!

River Jordan

2009-11-21T20:57:00.004-06:00

Today was one of our beautiful fall days in Tennessee that are such a beautiful treat of a blessing. The weather has been as perfect as this cold bloodied girl could ask for this late in November. A few leaves are still clinging to our trees and I am indeed blessed beyond measure as we move toward the national holiday of Thanksgiving.

Mr. Smarty Pants (my adorable to smart for his breeches nephew) is currently running in circles around me telling me that Titan the wonder dog is actually a ferocious beast. Funny I thought he was a worthless love rug. Ummm, think I have the pictures to prove it, too. Well, I guess the running will continue until My sister and Miss Fancy return from the ballet. Glory, glory.

On the book front this week - I thoroughly enjoyed An Evening with an Author and hearing Robert Hicks read from his new novel A Separate Country. I just wrapped up Catherine Coulter's latest addition to her FBI series, Knock Out, a real page turner with a double mystery. I have one chapter left in the strange, original tale of EIGHT, and have begun Robert's new novel set in New Orleans. I'm very excited that my friend Denise Hildreth has a new novel moving towards it's official publication date, that I'll be meeting a whole lot of friends in just a few weeks at the great Pulpwood Queens Girlfriend Getaway Weekend 10th Anniversary, presenting at the Hoover Library Southern Voices Literary Event in February, and then Shellie Rushing Tomlinson and I are planning a wild and wonderful booking it road trip in the Spring. And if you would love to have a girlfriend roadtrip that is focused on fun and reading - you should really not delay in registering and checking out the upcoming Jefferson, Texas event. It's the tenth Anniversary year so it promises to be the biggest, wildest, Kathy Patrick event yet! After all, like most things in life, books go better with friends!

Hope your week is full of the best of both.

Keep reading, keep dreaming, and keep believing!

River Jordan

2009-11-18T11:12:00.012-06:00

I've taken up my winter position which means I've plunked down in front of the fireplace. I may not move until Spring green appears on the branches. One reason being that mountain man husband thinks that the thermostat is an evil thing and that all houses can be heated in primitive manner. Okay - this little circle right around where I am sitting can be heated but should I dare to venture into - oh say - those exotic places like the kitchen or the bathroom they are a tad chilly. I like it warm. I like it blue jean, flip flop, t-shirt warm. The kind of warm where I can skip merrily from room to room singing falala just as if it's summer time outside. Now, the only problem with me hitting the thermostat and turning it up to a warm 68 degrees is husband starts gasping and grabbing his throat. I'm not lying. He acts just like that Gollum creature on The Lord of The Rings yelling, It hurts us, it hurts us. I can't help it if he has some weird metabolism of a Raptor and I freeze at 70 degrees in a breeze. The only time I was warm last winter was when he came down with a high fever, had chills so bad our heat was all the way up to 72 degrees and he was still freezing. I was just saying Bless Your Heart honey, the whole time I was skipping through the house in a t-shirt. Fa, la, la.

But - as I sit writing in this little warm square - Thank God for laptops - I really am relishing the pleasure of getting together with known friends and new friends yesterday in Nashville. I am delighted to learn of all the great things happening through Humanities Tennessee with the new Chapter 16 project, and with all the great news of new projects from writers JT Ellison, Susan Greg Gilmore, Darnell Arnoult, agent Greg Daniel, and the creative spirit of Megan Byrd. There will never, ever be a substitute for gathering around a table, breaking bread and sharing stories together.

Nashville, Tennessee has turned into this incredible mecca of writing talent. The longer I live here (7 years now) it's no less amazing to realize how many novelists and non-fiction writers of caliber have found their way to the Athens of the South. The schedule of events happening around the clock in the city for writer/reader things to do that are free and open to the public are mind-boggling. If you are reading this from another city and plan to visit anytime in the next year I suggest that you check out all the local sites and calendars for reader events. The Humanities Tennessee Chapter 16 site is featuring an ongoing calendar of events as well so that would be a great place to start.

Now - off to the writing part of my life because the clock is ticking and my firewood pile is dwindling.

Keep reading, keep dreaming, and keep believing!

And Stay Warm!

River

In Salute

2009-11-10T12:22:00.010-06:00

Just back in and home again from the postcard snapshot known as the small town of Dahlonega Ga. I had the pleasure of hanging out in the company of some great authors at the Dahlonega Literary Festival but did NOT get to meander around and shop to my hearts content. What a cool, little town for just kicking around. Great restaurants, a winery, live entertainment, and unique stores. Husband and I are always wanting to hang out longer and do more than we have time to do.

Now, trying to settle my heart down and put fingers to the keys in order to employ all the great advice that was given out on those panels including my own. Most of which boils down to - write. Sit down and write. Well, I have a great view from the hill and that's a good place to start. If staring out the window at the season's changing view helps, I've got that. I have old, cat Moses, purring by the laptop where he has been supervising my writing for the last twelve years. (He is very opinionated.) And even Titan the wonder dog lopes upstairs but he just wants to make certain I haven't passed out over the keys. I'm not lacking for characters, or stories. Truth is, I'm overflowing with them.

But instead of writing I wandered around the house and had other things on my mind. I watched the memorial service for the soldiers at Ft. Hood and thought about this week being host to Veterans Day. And I guess there isn't a whole lot I can write or say about that that hasn't already been said or written somewhere better. But I can say that I as a child of a soldier, one who served in Korea and Vietnam, one who served for over twenty years, came home with the silver star and the bronze medal and never spoke about why they were awarded, maybe I can say something.

I know what Veterans day means from the inside looking out. It's not a weird the banks are closed, or the mail won't run kinda day. With two sons home in just these past two weeks from two different war fronts, I understand the sweat and sacrifice, the worry and prayers that go in behind this 'holiday' of ours.

As a daughter and a mother, I've been plugged into this thing we call military in spite of my writerly gypsiness. Here I am surrounded by men of honor and order. Men or service not to just their families or their neighborhoods but to their countries.

A scripture jumped out at me today from an old journal I was thumbing through. One from the book of Joshua that says - "Then the land rested from a time of war." What wonderful words. What a great thought that maybe the land could rest awhile from such. Maybe we could hit the pause button on the madness for a few years or forever. And maybe that's just the writer girl in me with a wild imagination but somewhere, someday, surely Peace will reign.

In the meantime, my heartfelt thanks and prayers to those who serve this country and strive for good.