Isabel Swift wonders…do you make lists?
March 24, 2010 by A Slice of Orange in category Archives tagged as Deep South, Lists, Road Trip, TravelWell, in addition to “To Buy” lists or the more mundane “To Do” lists?
Years ago I created another kind of list & recently revived it. The summer after high school graduation, a girlfriend & I decided to travel and settled on hitchhiking around England for a month. In addition to planning our itinerary, we also developed The List (as it applied to the UK).
It contained things that we felt were quintessentially of the place, and enumerated things we wanted to have experienced before the holiday was over. The list “ingredients” didn’t have to be difficult to achieve; that wasn’t the issue. It was meant to measure what we felt was a true and full experience of a new environment.
I can’t remember the exact elements for the UK List, but it was things like:
1) eat fish & chips
2) see Buckingham Palace & the changing of the guards
3) drive in a London taxi cab
4) see someone in a kilt
5) visit a castle
6) see Shakespeare at Stratford-on-Avon
7) buy an umbrella
8) drive in a Rolls Royce
9) go to Hyde Park
10) be invited to tea…
You get the picture. We would argue and add things to the list as their quintessential-ness was discovered and determined.
Recently I went on a road trip with the same friend some 35+ years later. She lives in Alabama, so we went on a trip around the area. I found myself creating a list–it sort of was made as it happened instead of beforehand. But we argued through the essentialness of the ingredients, and I think we pulled together a good collection. I realize it is a girl list. You boys will just have to work on your own. Here it is:
The Deep South List:
1) Receive an Unsolicited Greeting
(i.e. hello) My friend didn’t think this should count as a key indicator of Southern-ness. I really had to explain that NO-ONE in New York would say hello to a stranger walking down the street–you’d think they were pan-handling.
2) Courtly Solicitation
#1 was men & women; this is just for women–Male interactions with females are often touched with a decorous flirtation, a sense of ‘Southern Charm,’ an awareness and appreciation of your femaleness, e.g. ‘I always stop for pretty girls,’ or have door held for you..
3) Bitten by Ants
Apparently, this is standard. I can vouch for it happening.
4) Drive on a dirt road; visit a farm/meet a farmer; wait for Cows to clear the road
The South has its share of cities and industry, but rural South seemed quintessentially Southern, not found elsewhere, and needed to be experienced. I didn’t get a photo of him, but our farmer was driving a tractor…not unlike the one pictured on the billboard below…
5) Roadside Attractions
One of the carved living tree in Tinglewood, ALA and Bourbon St. New Orleans, LA
6) Breakfast with Good Ole Boys, eat Grits with Unidentified butterlike substance
OK, he’s not a Good Ole Boy, he’s the god of the forge, Vulcan, who presides over Birmingham, ALA. Magnificent, isn’t he? And I know you’re distracted, but really, there’s no butter in the South. My grits came with a pat proudly announcing it was 40% margarine. It never told me what the other 60% was and I was too scared to ask….
7) Tea: Sweet/Unsweet
Well, I may have to make an exception for New Orleans, where it was hard to find anyone who’d give me sweet tea–it was all DIY. You do have to specify “Hot tea” if that’s your preference, as tea = ice tea.
8) Being asked where you come from
Yes, this would also be on a California list–but it’s just not Northeast in my experience & always startles me & reminds me I am somewhere away from home. In some parts of the South, I am sure you are asked where you are going–i.e. which grave yard will you be joining–to better understand your status. Location, location, location.
9) y’all
10) Cotton fields
Well, I hadn’t thought of posting while I was traveling, so didn’t take appropriate photos, just captured a few things that appealed. Here’s a a rather remarkable ironwork cornstalk fence in New Orleans.
11) Church signage with admonishions, instructions, information about Jesus
I regret not having photographed some of the Church signage: you have to see it to get it. Here’s one man’s front yard sculpture–it captures some of the spirit.
And here we are with our trusty black bug at the end of the trip. Think of the photo as modern art, creating a sense of immediacy and motion (and covering any bad hair or poor clothing choices).
Since we created out list as we went, we were sure to accomplish every one.
Do you make lists?
Isabel Swift
my blog
Possibilities Are Endless by Esi Sogah
March 21, 2010 by Marianne H. Donley in category Archives tagged as Avon, editor, Esi SogahI’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out what I wanted to share with all of you. Part of that may be that I’m currently in Georgia, at my brother’s wedding. I’m always so fascinated by weddings, because everyone is so different. Do you do pictures before or after? Sit-down dinner or buffet? Big or small? Considering how long people have been getting married, you’d think it would be hard to always be original. But time after time, couple after couple finds a way to make it unique.
It’s this instinct that I look for in the books I read. Love stories have been around forever, but we keep coming back. Tristan und Isolde, Romeo and Juliet, Tony and Maria. Same basic story, told in new and interesting ways.
I guess that’s the secret, the way you can decipher that publishing code. When editors say they’re looking for “high-concept” stories, it doesn’t mean we want every theme you’ve ever heard of thrown together in a big mish-mash. It’s about bringing something special that will resonate, even if you think they’ve heard it a million times before.
Modern Family, ABC’s new sitcom, is a perfect example of this. If I just told you the plot of an episode–father buys son a bike, sees bike outside of arcade, steals it to teach son a lesson about responsibility–you can probably guess where it’s going to go. But watching it unfold, it’s like you’ve never seen it before. Something tiny, like a quirky line-reading, or an extra twist when you thought it was over, makes it special. (Also hilarious, but I could write pages and pages about Modern Family, so I’m going to hold back.) But other than just enjoying the show, I am drawn in by the sheer ingenuity that went into making it.
The creative process is always interesting to me, which is what brought me to publishing in the first place. In Stephen Sondheim’s “Sunday in the Park with George”, a musical about painter George Seurat, this is how he describes the color “white”: ‘A blank page or canvas. His favorite. So many possibilities.’ And it’s true, the possibilities are endless–and a little bit daunting.
That’s why I always remind writers that they are the best part of their writing. Your voice, your point of view, your style–that’s what makes your work unique. Don’t let yourself get caught up in trying to create a plot that has never, ever been seen before. Trust yourself, and you’ll always be happy with the product–and so will your readers.
Associate Editor Esi Sogah joined Avon Books in the summer of 2005. She edits historical and paranormal romance, as well as commercial women’s fiction. http://www.avonromance.com/
e-maginings: Plantation Trip Report
March 17, 2010 by A Slice of Orange in category Archives tagged as e-maginings, New Orleans, plantation tourLast month I promised a report on my trip to New Orleans for EPICon2010. What I didn’t intend was to come home sick as the proverbial dog.
Janet Quinn Cornelow was my traveling partner, and our trip started well. We got to New Orleans on time after a quick change of planes in Nashville. The next morning we had a little time to shop and explore the French Quarter before being picked up for our Plantation Tour. We first visited magnificent Oak Alley, one of the most photographed plantations in the country, noted for the column of 300-year-old oak trees leading down to the river road. We had a very nice tour of the house which has been lovingly restored with furniture of the period. I can just imagine the grand house parties that took place here, but unfortunately bankrupted the owners. This is a photo taken from the rear of the house. Check out the Oak Alley website to see the oak trees.
Our second stop was at Laura Plantation, a Creole plantation. The tour here was different and very interesting. Apparently the Creoles had a different attitude toward inheritance. Instead of leaving the estate to the oldest son, they put the smartest child in charge, even if she happened to be a girl. As a result, Laura Plantation was run by women through several generations, the last being Laura Locoul Gore. The tour was fascinating, and I bought the book of Laura’s memoirs entitled Memories Of The Old Plantation Home & A Creole Family Album by Laura Locoul with commentary by Norman & Sand Marmillion. Laura’s life was long and interesting, but too involved to detail here. I was really glad we picked this particular tour. Here’s my photo of Laura’s plantation home.
Laura is less grand than Oak Alley, as it was more a working plantation than a showplace.
That’s all for now.
Linda / Lyndi
MR. ROMANTIC, WAS ENGELBERT WHO? by Bobbie Cimo
March 13, 2010 by Marianne H. Donley in category Archives tagged as Bobbie Cimo, Eye on Hollywood
The first time I heard the radio DJ announce the name Engelbert Humperdinck, I thought it was a joke. I mean who in their right mind would have the nerve to call themselves that, outside of the German composer, who in 1893 wrote the opera “Hansel and Gretel�
The song being sung by this new Engelbert was called, “Please Release Meâ€, which I didn’t care much for either. It was a long drawn out melody about a man who didn’t love the person he was with and wanted to be free so he could be with someone else. Who could love a guy like this?
The day came when this unknown singer from England was to make his American television debut. It was on a Saturday night, and the show was called “The Hollywood Palaceâ€. Finally, I was going to see the face behind that voice. And when I did, it was love at first sight for me. The well built 6’2 hunk who was dressed in a tuxedo made his way center stage, singing that song I had grown to hate–but it didn‘t matter what he was singing, all I could do was concentrate on his exotic looks, sensuous lips, and those way too long sideburns. When he spoke, he had this delightful, charming, English accent. What I found even more endearing was his presence. He was on National TV in front of millions of people and yet, he seemed to be shy. And that’s when I became the number one fan of the English crooner, who would later be billed as “The Last of the Romanticsâ€, because of all the romantic ballads he sang.
In the years that followed, I bought every new album of his as soon as it hit the stores. Not to mention I went to every local Engelbert concert, as well. Once, when I was in the audience, he actually took hold of my hand and serenaded me. Of course, I was mush for the next few weeks.
Because he had made guest appearances on some of the shows at CBS, I was given the chance to have my picture taken with him, during the different stages of his career (when he was clean shaven, bearded, with sideburns–without, long hair, short hair, dark headed, blond). With all of our encounters together, do you think he remembered me? Probably not. He had too many fans to keep up with. But that’s okay, I remembered him.
My most memorable meeting with Enge (as he called himself) was when I caught him coming out of a secret exit of the Riviera Hotel in Las Vegas to catch his limo ride. I ran up to him and when I did, he held me in his arms and kissed me. This was a common practice of his with his fans. But instantly, the mood was spoiled when one of the guys from his entourage started to grope me from behind. The magical moment was gone when I turned around and told the guy if he didn’t get his hands off me, I was going to slap him. The threat sobered him up quickly. When I turned back to Enge, he was inside his limo, ready to be driven away.
When I met up with him again it was at CBS, when he was appearing as a guest on The Jim Nabors Show. During his week of rehearsals I got to observe him, not as a fan watching her favorite singer, but as a show business insider, watching a professional at work.
For all the hours upon hours that I observed him at work (okay, let’s call it like it is, stalked him in the studio), he was always on time and well prepared for his performances. The cast and crew liked him and I never saw him push his weight around because of who he was. He was also a perfectionist when it came to his music and knowing what he wanted from it. He had all the traits of a true professional.
All the times I saw him, he never denied me a picture whenever I would asked him to take one with me, and was gracious when I introduced him to my parents. As for them, they were so thrilled to meet him, you would have thought I was introducing them to their future son-in-law (if only).
I’ve also seen Engelbert at his worst, when he was in so much pain that they had to shut down production early so he could be rushed to a local dentist’s office because of a nagging toothache that he had been plagued by all week. But seeing him at his worst also gave me the opportunity to see him at his best. As he was being whisked out the “Artist Entrance†by staffers for his emergency dentist visit, he was stopped by a fan who told him that her little girl was his biggest fan. Putting aside his pain, he stooped down to the child’s level. “Come here, babyâ€, he said coaxing her over to him. When she came to him, he put his arms around her and gave her a kiss. Then he was off to the dentist. As for me, I fell a little bit more in love with him that day.
I remained a loyal fan for many a year, until the ballads he sang weren’t as romantic as the earlier ones were. The shyness he used to display was no longer there and his act was replaced with silliness. The same way Elvis changed his attire from wearing black shirt and pants to wearing jumpsuits, Engelbert’s trademark tuxedo was replaced with flashy outfits. But I suppose all of it was just a sign of the times.
My infatuation with the superstar truly ended when I learned he had had numerous indiscretions with women he had picked out from his audiences. Several of these liaison produced illegitimate children for this father of four, who was still married to his wife.
Although knowing what I know about rock stars and super heroes today, this probably shouldn’t have surprised me…but I guess I had expected more from someone once labeled “The King of Romanceâ€.
Would I ever go see another one of his concerts again? I have and I will. I mean, if his wife has forgiven him, I guess I can. I did buy his autobiography but haven’t gotten around to reading it yet. I’m not sure I’m ready to read about all of his “naughtiness†(as he calls it) in print.
I will always think back fondly of the time I was enthralled with the singer called Engelbert Humperdinck. His voice, his looks and his charm, just made me fall more in love with romance. And what could be more inspirational for a romance writer than that?
The Blonde Samurai is a “Fresh Pick†at FreshFiction.com by Jina Bacarr
March 11, 2010 by A Slice of Orange in category Archives tagged as blonde, Confessions of a Podcast Goddess, corset, England, Japan, lady, naughty, samurai, Victorian
I’m very honored to be a Fresh Pick. According to the email I received–“The Fresh Pick is chosen by a group of readers…â€
Writing is a solitary profession, but I can tell you that as a writer, my characters make me laugh, angry at times (when they don’t do what you tell them) and cry.
I remember feeling the anguish of my heroine, Katie, when she feared she would never have a child.
“Yet I was aware that by keeping separate quarters from my husband, I had doomed myself to a life left unfulfilled. The reality of what they meant raked across my heart, grabbing me, my faith shaken, my mood saddened. Would I ever know the joy, the soft smells, the magic of motherhood? A dull ache settled in my empty womb, disheartened as I was by the thought of a life of barrenness.”
Or how much she missed her Irish-American family when she first arrived in Japan.
“A maudlin homesickness seeped through the layers of my silken kimono and made me yearn for the times when I was a girl back home in our white frame house surrounded by woods, Da and Mother and my little sister, Elva, gathered around the wood fire on cold nights, eating cream cakes and listening to my father tell tall stories about what it was like back in Ireland when he was a young man during the potato famine some thirty years ago.”
“Too stubborn to ask for help, my Irish pride and my bustle got the better of me when I sat down and slid off the cushion and onto the matting, my legs flying up into the air, my layers of petticoats and skirts covering my face. I was a sight to behold sprawled out on the floor, laughing, with poor Mr. Fawkes trying to pull me up without grabbing the wrong part of my anatomy.”
And how amazed she was to discover that the Empress of Japan was a charming young woman who shared her interest in fashion.
“…the Empress was openly curious about the rows and rows of lace trimming my flounces and petticoats. I was delighted when she suggested sponsoring a school to make the beautiful fabric. I knew she longed to have a red satin petticoat and white velvet gown set with off-the-shoulder cap sleeves and dotted with pearls like the one I’d brought with me from Paris.”
Then there was Shintaro.
“Yet the first man I took to my bed after my wedding night was not my husband—or yours—but one of the most mysterious, elusive and enigmatic men in all Japan. A samurai.“His name was Shintaro.â€
I’m thrilled that the readers at FreshFiction.com also enjoyed the adventures of Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke. Thank you!!
The Blonde Samurai“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.â€
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