The 7 Links Challenge — A Second Look at the Best (and Worst) of Tales of a Storyteller

Last week I was surprised to be challenged by fellow bloggers extraordinaire, Jolina Petersheim and Julia Monroe Martin, to the 7 Links Challenge. Well, folks, the first challenge was to figure out how to link something to my blog. Yes, it’s true. I am lost most of the time when it comes to point and click. So, see those little highlighted names back there? I’m proud of that. Hope it does the trick.

Now that I’ve already broken a sweat this morning, here are my seven links — a true feat, considering my blog is fairly new and I’m just happy to be here, telling my stories!

Thanks, Jolina for such a sweet encouragement!

Most Beautiful Post: The Wonder That’s Keeping The Stars Apart

I was pleased with this post and found so much beauty in the legacy of this woman. The image of her, looking beyond herself and her world in search of something greater, moved me.

Most Popular Post: What She Would Have Said

I’d like to think it was because of my wit and deft command of language, but really this post was most popular because it was my first and many friends and family came out to support the new blog. Either that, or people liked the picture of this tough little woman.

Most Controversial Post: A Story That Seeps To The Bone — Alma Katsu Interview

Now, the interview itself may not be controversial. But Alma is one of a kind and that tends to turn hairs. Her novel may not be for everyone, it may be a tough read, tackling the darker natures of mankind, but that’s why I chose to celebrate her. She is a strong-minded woman who is a gifted writer and her work may make you cringe or turn away, but I guarantee it will also make you think.

Most Helpful Post: Endurance And Authenticity — Jessica McCann Interview

While all of my interviews are helpful, this post exemplifies what I’ve found most authors have in common — not only the kind of characteristics that I believe can make you a successful writer, but also a successful person. People like Jessica, improve the world.

Most Surprisingly Successful Post: Hemingway Would Have Bought Her A Drink

Apparently, ghosts and Hemingway and drinking will get you some attention. I had a good time sharing the account of watching this woman at the Hemingway Bar in Paris. Here is the seed of a story. She still enchants me.

Post That Didn’t Get Attention: The Band Played On

All right. I know. It was a sappy memory. But it was one of those posts that sneaks up on you, unplanned. And it made me cry, listening to that old recording.

Post I Am Most Proud Of: She Began To Sing To Me

I probably should have been most proud of the post where I mentioned my wedding anniversary, but that would have been a post about my greatest blessings, not a matter of pride. So, I chose this post, which includes the first excerpt from I’ve shared from my upcoming novel. If you know me, this is a big deal. I’m just learning to talk about my writing with others.

And now here are five other bloggers (boy, this was hard!) who I enjoy reading and who I now nominate for the continuation of the 7 Links Challenge:

Amy Sue Nathan: Women’s Fiction Writer’s

Erika Robuck: Muse

Robin O’Bryant: Robin’s Chicks

Misty Barrere: Writing And Research: What Have We Gotten Ourselves Into

Susanna Kearsley: Not-A-Blog

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The Band Played On

There’s a song in my head since I woke up this morning. I haven’t heard it since I was a little girl, a long while now, but it’s still there. Just as clear as a bell. I know every lyric and I am taken back to a time when I twirled in sock feet across the slick top of my grandmother’s living room coffee table. She had an old record, so thick and stiff it was like glass. I loved the sound of it, the hissing and scratching when she’d put it on the enormous record player, the needle touching down with a little gasp before the music would start. And then, I’d watch my grandmother’s face. One breath, two. No matter how many times I made her play that song, or how she protested and begged me to settle for a different tune, no dice. Because none of her other records did what this one could do. With the first strains of that melody, the corner of her mouth would lift.

Magic.

There was a story in the song. It was simple: a boy and a girl, dancing, thrilling to one another. That was enough to make me love it. And trust me, I didn’t need an excuse to get up on that table and perform waltz after waltz, all dolled up in my grandmother’s square-dancing slip, delighted with the way those skirts billowed out around my little legs. I knew my grandmother was smiling at me. I was a little queen, then. But she had another smile, a secret smile, one I’d never seen before. It puzzled me and bothered me and made me dance harder and wilder, trying to pull her attention back to the wonder of me.

For the first time, I must have realized the woman in the little farmhouse – the person I thought I knew everything about, whom I believed had set her days to revolve solely around our family – had lived a life before us. Each time she played the waltz, I caught a glimpse of that girl. A stranger. A mystery. A pure wonder.

She taught me to make biscuits. She taught me the Lord’s Prayer. She taught me other things, too, like how to manipulate or regret decisions. She was quick to laugh, quick to judge, full of such pride in her family and weighed down with sorrows for brothers she couldn’t redeem. She loved her work, but never felt she was a smart woman. She loved her husband, and they were a gruff pair. She could work like a man in the summer garden, always lamented that she couldn’t grow a rose, and she never missed an epidsode of ‘Dallas,’ come Friday night. I knew all of this and I remember her that way to my children.

But today, I’ll put on a waltz. Because I know the corner of my mouth will lift, so like hers. And my daughter will wonder. She’ll watch me and weigh all the things she understands about my life against all the things she fears and hopes for her own, and she will tuck away the seed of what my grandmother’s waltz taught me.

She had a secret…

The Band Played On

A Little Perseverance – Lisa Turner Interview

My guest interview today is with another woman who inspires me: author Lisa Turner, an indomitable personality and new talent whose soulful mystery, A LITTLE DEATH IN DIXIE, released June of 2010 by Bell Bridge Books, impressed me as powerfully as the author herself.

Here’s a nice quote on this debut novel:

“Memphis, the Mississippi River, and the underbelly of human nature they’re all exposed in the dark brew of this fast-paced Southern Gothic suspense. Page-turning and atmospheric, this tightly-plotted novel turns the screws and sends readers racing to its surprise conclusion.” ~Michael Finger, Senior Editor, Memphis Magazine

Born in Memphis, Lisa Turner spent her childhood either on the back of a horse or reading fiction. At times she did them simultaneously. Flannery O’Connor and James Lee Burke were her literary heroes long before she knew the term  “Southern Gothic.”

From the experience of managing her family’s interior design firm, she earned a PhD in the peculiarities of human nature . . . talk about Southern Gothic!

More recently, she and her husband bought a home in Nova Scotia, where the landscape changed from cotton fields to lobster boats. She currently shuttles between the Deep South of her childhood and the wildly beautiful coast of Nova Scotia.

I know you’ll enjoy getting to know her through these thoughtful and provocative responses and I’m so thankful she took the time to share today.

Welcome, Lisa!

 

Q. What are your favorite characteristics in a person?

A. Dependability, humility, and a touch of fire.  Melded, those qualities produce a person of honor without arrogance, and yet with a spark that drives them to accomplish great things.

I enjoy watching Charlie Rose interview the “brightest and best” in science, film, politics, architecture, literature—every field imaginable. Charlie regularly asks the question, “How did you achieve this breakthrough; how did you create this masterpiece?”  The really great ones look a little puzzled. They answer, “I just worked hard.”

 

Q. What are your least favorite characteristics?

A. That would be “envy,” defined as the unhappy feeling of wanting someone else’s success or possessions for oneself.

What motivates envy? What does one person’s achievement have to do with another person’s success or lack of it? Of course, I’m not referring to a hungry person watching someone else eat a quarter-pound cheeseburger.  That kind of imbalance and lack of opportunity starts wars.

Pursue your passion to the best of your ability and pay no attention to what someone else has on their plate.

 

Q. As a child, did you dream of becoming a writer?

A. Reading was a big part of my childhood, and I enjoyed writing, but I never said to myself, “One day I’ll be a writer.”

However, I was always fascinated by words. Even as a child, combinations of words were like music for me. I still overwrite sentences because I’m hunting for the music. The next day I’ll have to rewrite the whole thing, because I’ve missed the point.  A scene has to be more about the story and the character’s voice and emotion than the lyricism of the words.

 

Q. Who/what influenced your dreams?

 A. I love, love, love old movies. They’ve influenced every area of my life.  The best of them provide great storytelling, dialogue, wonderful sets, and costume design.  When I write a scene, I like to use strong visual details along with a lot of texture. If I can infuse a bit of Southern culture into the mix, I’m happy.

I’m also influenced by writers who open with killer first paragraphs. After a couple of pages, you can tell if they have the talent and the authority to build on their beginning. Any writer who starts strong and is able to carry that momentum through to the end is impressive. No one knows what an accomplishment that is until they try it.

 

Q. What is your greatest fear about writing?

A. That’s easy. I’m afraid I’ll write something trite or obvious without realizing it. It helps to have astute critics and great editors looking over your shoulder. But it’s important to choose those readers carefully. Be sure they don’t have a hidden emotional agenda, like envy, that would lead to distorted advice.  Fortunately, I’ve had supportive people helping me all the way.

 

Q. If you could give a bit of sage advice to novice writers, what would it be?

A. Read everything. Stay current with your genre. Talk to other writers. Study the craft by reading books about writing and attend professional conferences. Mastering the basic tenets of storytelling will save you the misery of wondering why your beloved manuscript, after hundreds of hours of hard work, just doesn’t cut it.

Pay attention to the details of life and make notes. Be aware of the subtext that goes on in everyday conversation.  Hunt for fresh story ideas until one grabs your imagination and you can’t stop thinking about its possibilities.

I have a note card in the bookcase to the left of my desk.  It says: “Never, never, never give up.”  Do that, do the work and you’ll have a manuscript that will make you proud.

Save Your Soul Pound Cake

It’s a hundred degrees here in north Georgia and too hot to do much of anything except remember summers in my Granny’s kitchen. Usually, she had a pressure cooker going full steam, putting up vegetables from the garden. I’m sweating in my house and I have air conditioning and steam-in-a-bag veggies from Publix.

For some reason, that makes me want to get out my cookbook. It’s a binder full of recipes she put together over the years and slid into plastic sleeves so I’d be able to feed my husband and children right one day when she wasn’t around to tell me how to do it anymore. Every time I pull out these recipes, I think of her. And today, she’s telling me I need to quit worrying about the – forgive me, Lord – bikini I’ll be squeezing into in a few weeks when I travel to Europe, and sustain my soul with a lemon pound cake.

So, here you go. I’ve copied the recipe as she wrote it, word for word. If you don’t understand, shoot me a comment. It’ll heat up your house like a sweat lodge and rid you of all impurities.

Old Fashioned Pound Cake

2 cups plain flour

1 cup Crisco

2 cups sugar

5 tbsp Sweet Milk

5 eggs

2 tbsp Lemon Flavoring

Cream sugar and Crisco. Beat one egg at a time into mixture, alternately adding bits of flour and tbsps of milk. (Add part flour, mix, add 2 tbsp milk, mix. Add rest of flour, mix. Then add rest of milk and flavoring.)

Grease bunt pan and pour in batter. Bake at 300 degrees for 1 hour, or until brown on top.

You might want to put a cookie sheet on the lower rack in the oven to catch anything that drips out.

Serve with vanilla ice cream.