Hopefully, if someone is contemplating whether to buy my book or the one next to it on the shelf, these wonderful blurbs will convince them to buy MINE!  MINE!  MINE!

I am really excited about the people who have agreed to read my book but at the same time I am incredibly nervous — feeling very much the same way I did right before Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen was released — this sudden realization that people are actually going to read the book you spent two or three years writing and then freely offer up their opinion.

For now, I’m keeping the blurb-givers a secret.  Hmm.  Maybe if you can guess three of them correctly, I’ll name a character in my next book after you.  Good luck . . . and more to follow!

Yes, it’s fun to rub shoulders with the likes of Ron Rash and Jill McCorkle, Robert Hicks and the darling Lee Brothers.  And often that was all it was — literally rubbing my shoulder against theirs as I passed them in a crowded hallway.

I met some wonderful writers like South Carolina novelist and master gardener Mindy Friddle,  New York Times best-selling author Karen White, writer and humor columnist Celia Rivenbark who reminded of the expression “just a half bubble off plumb” and Nina Bruhns who writes romance thrillers and definitely has me thinking of today’s romance genre very, very differently.

I sat on an extremely well-attended panel with Celia and Nina, sold out of books, ate too much food, danced a little and came home dog-tired.

But the best part of all was that I spent time with incredibly passionate, voracious readers that inspired me to sit down at my desk this morning and tell another story.

I need to briefly return to the subject of letters, one more time. Now you may be figuring out that this will be a reoccurring theme. But after my last post about letters, I received this email from writer, blogger and letter writer, Stephanie Garrett, and wanted to share it with you.

Wow! Every time the voices of doubt try to gain a foothold in my brain, someone writes or post something that spurs me forward. While I am by no means an accomplished writer, there are thoughts and stories within me that are screaming for release. Because of being overcome by tax returns and financial aid submissions I have not blogged in the past couple of days. Just as I’m wondering “does it really matter if I post today?” I find your posts about letters!

Thank you for the book suggestions and may we never forget that there is always someone in cyber-space who needs to read what we have to say.

I read this comment and picked up my pen and wrote one of my dear friends a nice, long letter. Thank you Stephanie for spurring me forward!

I’m fortunate.  I have two readers.  First, there’s Becky .  She’s a young mother in Nashville — born and raised in the South, a voracious and intelligent reader, dedicated English teacher — Becky understands the subtle nuances of Southern writing.

And then there’s Bonnie MacDonald.  I trust Bonnie with every word I’ve ever written.  And that’s a lot of words because Bonnie and I have worked together for more than 15 years.  But Bonnie is more than a reader, a writer, an editor and a good friend.  She is a CASA volunteer.  That’s right, a COURT APPOINTED SPECIAL ADVOCATE.  She has mentored and cared for children in the foster-care system in Orange County, California, for almost two decades. She has truly made a difference in so many young lives and has provided children hope and love in a world that seems to have forgotten them.  She’d never tell you this, but she was once named Orange County’s CASA Volunteer of the Year.

Now Bonnie is blogging about CASA and the foster-care system for Dr. Phil. com.  And I would really appreciate it if you would check out her blog, leave a comment, and as she suggests, smile at a child today.

Since my recent blog post where I openly confessed my love for The Woman of Independent Means, I’ve learned that I’m not the only one still in love with letters and letter writing and books written in letter form!  I’ve even begun to wonder if all of us letter lovers should start some sort of secret club.  Maybe we promise to write one letter a month?  Maybe to one another?  Oh dear, I guess we all know how long that would last.

But at least I can share some of the other titles written in epistolary form that you have shared with me.  The Griffin & Sabine Trilogy, Helene Hanff’s, 84 Charing Cross Road, and Alice’s Tulips by Sandra Dallas. (Wasn’t that the name of a song from the 1920s?)

Anyway, the weather is still cold here in Nashville, but I have spent the last few days in the house — painting and cleaning.  We are moving to Chattanooga this summer, and we list our house tomorrow.  All has gone well except for the unfortunate accident which is the name now given to the spilling of a gallon of taupe paint all over on an old but loved rug.  Of course, I was covered in paint too.  No doubt my neighbors heard me screaming two doors down!

I do hope your week has been warm and accident free.  Please take care and stay in touch.

Sincerest regards,

Susan

I am very drawn to books written in letter or journal form. The Diary of Anne Frank was one of the first books I truly fell in love with — and most recently The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen originally included some twenty pages of letters back and forth from Catherine Grace and Martha Ann.  My editor felt that the voice was too similar in the sisters’ letters and suggested I return those belonging to Catherine Grace to first-person narrative.

Lately, I’ve been asking myself why I am so drawn to this form of writing, and I think the answer is very simple.  His name was Nolan Nuckles.  He was a family friend, and when I was a very little girl, he was already well into his eighties.  Oh, but Mr. Nuckles would write me the most wonderful letters, full of information and stories and scribed with a penmanship that was nothing short of artistic.  I remember feeling so special that he had taken the time to write me.  I saved each and every one of of his letters for years, and unfortunately in one of my many moves, they disappeared.

But that’s just it.  In a letter, we all have the opportunity to become story teller — to share with our reader a part of our life that has been worthy of writing down.  And receiving that letter is, in my opinion, an honor — especially now in the age of emails and texting and tweeting when writing by hand seems like a laborious task.

I, too, love a good 140-keystroke message message and sometimes forget to stop and take the time to write a friend a letter.  (Although a few years ago I wrote my 7th-grade teacher, Lee Smith, a very long letter inside an exam blue book — only seemed appropriate!)  But as my head spins with ideas for a fourth and fifth book, don’t be surprised if it’s a collection of letters — each one a special moment shared between a writer and her reader.

Now back to business.  I was in Chattanooga again this past weekend.  And again, it snowed!  But as I was driving around town the day after, I couldn’t believe all the snowmen and snowwomen that had miraculously appeared in people’s front yards and on random street corners. (Remember the last time I was there I spotted the miniature snow couple on a bistro’s coffee table.)

These were not your average snowpeople.  Some had full heads of hair.  Some were dressed in one fashion or another.  Some were anatomically correct.  But all of them were wonderfully artistic. And granted, I realize that this posting is not about writing, but it is about creativity.  And that needs to be celebrated everyday — especially days when it snows.

Snow couple. Check out the mustache!

So I sat back down at my desk, tea in hand, and for some reason checked Facebook, and there I read a comment by Josephine Humphreys.  I don’t even remember the words now.  They don’t really matter.  But one thought led to another and then to another. And before I knew it, the block had lifted like fog off a mountain.

With that in mind, I want to share with you this beautifully written essay by another Tennessee writer, Susan Cushman.  Susan is an iconographer, artist and writer.  Her words about the spirituality of the creative process really resonate with me.  I don’t know what caused my block to dissipate.  But if the words seem to flow from a greater power then it only would make sense that emotions like anger and hurt and resentment and frustration block a writer’s ability to tap into or connect with that source.  At least for me, this feels true.

That’s right, you heard me, a book club . . . on Twitter.   And on Monday night, February 1, one of my favorite indie stores, Fountain Bookstore in Richmond, VA, will celebrate the paperback release of A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick, with a Twitter chat.  Store owner Kelly Justice (@rvabookchik) and one of my fav book bloggers Rebecca (@The Book Lady’s Blog) will lead the discussion.

Think about it.  Book lovers from right here in Tennessee to the California coast and beyond can gather together and talk about a favorite book.  OK, that’s just way cool.

For more details, on how to join Monday’s conversation, check out The Book Lady’s Blog.

I feel no stress when I paint — no pressure, no expectations — nothing but joy.  It reminds me very much how I felt when I was writing Dairy Queen, before I learned something about the business of publishing.  But the really great, wonderful part about painting, when I’m done and return to the written word, I find that joy lingers on the page!