I have loved reading all the Mother’s Day tributes out on social media.  A common trend this year is talking about what you may have learned from your mom.   There were many posts with words of wisdom passed along, but for me, most of what



Back in February when I was in Mississippi to do a book event at Square Books, I also had the privilege of going back to Memphis, Tennessee and to the studios of Book Talk Memphis.  There I participated in an interview about THE ROAD TO


To say I fell in love with the artwork produced for THE ROAD TO BITTERSWEET’s Trio 2018 exhibit doesn’t really describe all I felt when I first set eyes on this piece.  Cyndi Hoelzle is the artist and she was kind enough to share the process


18
Feb

Events!

I’ve certainly had my share of fun going to my book events, but you know the old saying, a picture is worth a thousand words.  Since I’ve written about that many on my new book today, I thought I’d share some event photos instead of


28
Jan

Meet Estelle!

Once a writer succeeds in becoming published, there are many milestones which are part of the process of getting a book onto bookshelves.  I have absolutely reveled in every step, from creating Readers Guide questions, to writing acknowledgements and thinking about dedications, to working on



This is it, the final sentence of THE ROAD TO BITTERSWEET!  I’ve truly enjoyed doing this again for the second year in a row.  I appreciate all of you reading along, and hope I’ve given you enough of the story such that you want to


Next week is the last First Sentence Friday for THE ROAD TO BITTERSWEET! Wallis Ann is strong and sturdy, a true survivalist in every sense of the word.  I believe she would have given anyone on Survivor, or Naked and Afraid a run for their


As I’m writing stories of hardship and deprivation like this one, the desire to keep everything as realistic as possible is what weighs on my mind.  I don’t want to overdo it, yet I certainly love to push characters to the limit.  The Stampers, and


This week is one of the challenges in doing First Sentence Friday.  When I came to Chapter Twenty Five and saw this week’s sentence, it looked (IMO) like it just sort of flopped itself out there.  I thought about maybe cheating a little, and sharing


I talked about first love in an earlier First Sentence Friday post.  This particular part of the story isn’t a sweet rendering of that one and only special first for Wallis Ann.  It’s more like a reckoning, a big realization perhaps all is not as


Living in North Carolina, we get to enjoy the four seasons.   Sure we joke about being in flip flops one day, then wearing long johns and winter coats the next, but for the most part, the weather marches to the tune of Mother Nature, and


The news has been filled with stories of sexual abuse, and it seems every day there’s a new accusation.  Having written THE EDUCATION OF DIXIE DUPREE, it only seems fitting I should say something.  Actually, I feel compelled to speak out about it.  Here are


Wallis Ann has always watched over her older sister Laci, who is mute, yet musically gifted.  In today’s terms she would be classified as autistic.  Back in those days, the term idiot savant was used, which did not set well at all with Momma Stamper. 


By nature, I am a creature of habit.  I go to bed about the same time every night, and get up about the same time every morning.  Consider this; I have cleaned my house every Thursday for decades – no matter what – yes, even


First love.  Do you remember yours?  I remember mine.  He was a junior in high school.  I was a sophomore.  He was part of the “cool” crowd, not the popular football, cheerleader, member of various different clubs sort of crowd, but still very well liked


When writing a story about suffering, hardship and deprivation, there needs to be a balance of good with bad, or readers will be slap worn out (and as the writer, so would I) if it was all negative, with nothing good happening.  I love, love,


Because parts in this story deal with a traveling show, I had to do some research to understand their way of life and in doing so, I ran across a few phrases I thought lended an air of authenticity.  One was “forty miler.”  This meant


How many times have you ever had something bothering you and someone says, “What’s the matter, you look worried.”  I’m no poker faced poker player, let me tell you.  Lying was not my forte growing up. My mother was able to draw a confession right


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