Good News and Bad News Day

I’ll start with the bad news. On a hunch, I called the Daphne, AL Books-A-Million to make sure my books were in. They weren’t, even though the manager ordered them over a month ago and they are for sure in their warehouse. It looks like I won’t have enough time to salvage the Daphne, but I have the BAM and Pelican folks both working on it, so maybe I can pull it off, or at least keep the Mobile BAM for Sunday. I’ll know something more by this afternoon I’m sure. If it doesn’t work out I can reschedule the Daphne BAM I suppose, since I love Mobile so much it would not be a hardship.  Though I know these little hindrances and frustrations are a part of life, I STILL HATE THEM!

Good News: My book, Jim Limber Davis: A Black Orphan in the Confederate White House is in the bookstore and giftshop of the Atlanta Cyclorama & Civil War Museum! This is a major coup. This Cyclorama is advertised as the largest painting in the world, and since 1893 is the longest running show in the country!  Lots of traffic there, so sales should be good. As I’ve mentioned before, I intend on getting to Atlanta for a week or two of signings there. The Cyclorama’sWebsite is here: http://www.webguide.com/cyclorama.html

Preparing for Mobile

Last night, I went to the SCV meeting in West Monroe. We had one of the best programs I’ve ever seen at a camp meeting. A member had brought a DVD, made from an old film, of the 1914 Reunion of Confederate Veterans in Jacksonville, FL. (In those days, I think the film industry was big in that area). At this event, over 48,000 actual Confederate veterans gathered. Of course, by this time they youngest would have been in his 60’s. That must have been quite an event. A huge crowd came to support the event. Amazing, absolutely amazing. I wonder if my Confederate ancestor made it to that or similar events. I think I’ll have to write a poem about this film and that time and place in history.

Today will be spent getting ready for my Mobile book-signing marathon. Four grueling days await me, full of nothing but driving and talking about my books. Of course, I also have the university today and a few chores. I also hope to do some writing. Yesterday, I booked a couple of more schools where I will present my program, and I also worked on some more songs. I love mythology and try to incorporate it into my teaching and my writing often. My students have always been fascinated by dragons. Here’s a poem I wrote about dragons.

Y Ddraig Goch 

I am your Welsh dragon,
A symbol carried by Roman legions,
Your real man in a kilt, with
The blood of my Celtic ancestors,
Of Arthur, Merlin, and Llywellyn
Stirring, churning in my blood.
In the Chinese calendar,
I was born in the Year of the Dragon,
Honored in festivals, envied in horoscopes.
I am a dragon, your Welsh red dragon,
And the dragon-title suits me,
For I am fierce, strong,
And born of conflict and mythology.
A creature thought to not exist
By many, even by you in the past, but
You found me, manly and intellectual,
Full of fire and powered by magic,
Feared by men, and dreamed of by women.
Now, whenever you look at a dragon,
I know you will think of me.

Tuesday: I woke singing.

I’ve been in a foul mood lately–no doubt due to laying down the cigs–but I woke in a better mood with a clearer head today. I’ve learned two songs this morning–A kiddie song for my programs, “Waltzing with Bears” and a song for me, “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen. I posted the lyrics of the song back on June 13. The lyrics are so intense (and personally applicable) that I choked up when I tried to sing them. That emotion usually goes away or at least gets under control after I go through a song a few times.

Another sign I feel better is the fact I woke up early and made a to do list. There are about a half dozen schools and libraries I must contact today, and I also must spend time writing on my play. I leave early Thursday morning for Mobile and won’t return until Sunday night. At least a few nights I’ll spend at my daughter’s house in Ocean Springs. I’ll have my laptop with me, will likely have access to wireless Internet, so I should be able to do a post every day. Here’s my Mobile Schedule:

Thursday, November 15: Books-A-Million 6850 Highway 90 Daphne, AL 251-625-8644
Friday, November 16: Barnes & Noble, 3250 Airport Blvd. Mobile. 251-450-0084
Saturday, November 17: Barnes & Noble, 30500 State Hwy 181 Spanish Fort, AL 251-621-3545
Sunday, November 18: Books-A-Million, 3206 Airport, Bell Air Mall, Mobile 251-471-3528
Sunday November 25: Books-A-Million, 3960 Airport Boulevard, Mobile 251-341-0133

I’ll start these signings as early as I can each day and go until the store is sold out of my books or until it closes. Please feel free to share this list of signings with anyone you know in the Mobile Alabama area.  Teachers and members of the SCV or UDC seem to especially enjoy my children’s book, Jim Limber Davis: A Black Orphan in the Confederate White House.

Poetry of Louise Glück

Today in ENG 206, we looked at the poetry of Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, and Louise Glück.  While I like the poetry of Plath and Sexton, I am overwhelmed by the poetry of Glück (pronounced Glick).  About a year ago, a close friend introduced me to Glück and gave me Glück’s book, Averno. I’ve been haunted by this poet ever since. A Pulitzer prize winner, and U.S. Poet Laureate, Glück is a prominent voice among American poets today. I was happy to see  her included in our anthology.
Averno is a lake in Italy that the Romans thought went all the way down and served as an entrance to the underworld. I looked back through Averno and found some meaningful lines I had underlined last year, lines that primarily relate to Persephone and her abduction by Hades.

“It is like losing a year of your life./To what would you lose a year of your life?”

“When Hades decided he loved this girl/ he built for her a duplicate of earth,/ everything the same, down to the meadow,/but with a bed added.”

“A disaster like this/leaves no mark on the earth.”

I intend to get the other books of Glück in the future. She is worth reading, and she will make you think and feel.

Some Quotations for Thought

Tomorrow is the long day at the university, so don’t expect an entry until late tomorrow tonight.  A friend of mine sent me these quotations from The Secret Life of Bees. I thought I’d publish them.

“I didn’t know what to think, but what I felt was
magnetic and so big it ached like the moon had entered
my chest and filled it up.

“The only thing I could compare it to was the feeling I
got one time when I walked back from the peach stand
and saw the sun spreading across the late afternoon,
setting the top of the orchard on fire while darkness
collected underneath. Silence had hovered over my
head, beauty multiplying in the air, the trees so
transparent I felt I could see through to something
pure inside them. My chest had ached then, too, this
very same way.”

“The world will give you that once in a while, a brief
time-out; the boxing bell rings and you go to your
corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up
life.”

“But the main thing is they (bees) are hardworking to
the point of killing themselves. Sometimes you want to
say to them, Relax, take some time off, you deserve
it.”

NORMAN MAILER

As I’m sure you heard, Norman Mailer died yesterday. A prolific writer, he also had much to say about topics related to writing and writers. I wanted to include in this post today a couple of quotations from his book, The Spooky Art: Some Thoughts on Writing. I had read the book in 2003. I remember I bought the book after hearing Mailer interviewed about the book on NPR.

“Once you are committed to earning your living from your pen, you discover that you can push yourself.”

“It’s as difficult to become a professional writer as a professional athlete. It often depends on the ability to keep faith in yourself. One must be willing to take risks and try again.”

There are many more quotations from this great read I could have posted, but these underlined sentences caught my eye today.

Return from Weekend Signings

Ay, me. I’ve just returned from my weekend of signings. Friday, I went to Bienville Public Library in Arcadia, visited with several ladies of the Literary Society there and with Harold A. Talbert, an Arcadia resident who is SO KNOWLEDGEABLE, and so full of stories of the area. He and I must have talked nearly an hour. From Arcadia, I went to the Barnes and Noble in Shreveport where I had another sell-out of all my books they had in the store. I spent the night in Shreveport, and then drove to Baton Rouge to the Sam’s Club there and had another good signing. Of course, then I made the trek back to Monroe. I’ve managed to stay off the cigs. The drive time is the hardest for me, but I suppose that’s just another habit. While I was waiting for my time slot at Sam’s, I did set up a signing at the Books-A-Million there in Baton Rouge for Sat. Jan. 12, and maybe another new BAM on Sun. the 13th. I’ll keep you posted. Below are two photos of store workers from the Barnes and Noble Signing in Shreveport. The two workers here were most helpful to me the whole evening and I promised I’d put them on my blog. The first is Lisa, and the second is Stevie.

Lisa: Barnes and Noble Shreveport 07

Stevie: B arns and Noble Shreveport 07

Friday Programs

Today and tomorrow will be very busy. I’m on my way shortly to Bienville Parish Library in Arcadia. (For some reason, I can’t go there without thinking of Bonnie and Clyde!) Then on to the Barnes and Noble in Shreveport. Saturday morning, on to Baton Rouge to the Sam’s Club there.   Last night’s program in St. Francisville was fun! Went well and I’ll get some good press from it. I hope to have some photos to post of it soon. Today I decided to post a short-short story, one of my flash fiction pieces. Let me know what you think of it.

Jewels of Denial

Liam paused and wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve.  After an hour’s climb, he had reached the edge of the vast tumble of granite boulders and he scanned the beach below. It was low tide, and the waves beat the sand with a steady rhythm and the ocean breeze cooled his aching muscles.  He leapfrogged the last few rocks, slipped his daypack and metal detector from his back, sat on the warm sand, and drank greedily from his canteen.  From his research, he was sure that this isolated beach, known as Lover’s Beach, was the location of a vanished 19th century resort along the Atlantic coastline. The terrain practically guaranteed that no other treasure hunters would go to the trouble to come here.
He set the discrimination on his Fisher Gold Bug metal detector and worked the beach methodically in a grid pattern.  He swept the coil back and forth, digging every signal, but found only trash—aluminum cans, pull tabs, and rusted nails. On his fifth pass, the detector gave a strong beep.  Expecting only a bigger piece of trash, he gasped when he dug up a gold wedding band.  He knelt, turning the ring over in his hand. For a second, he thought the stone actually glowed. The inside bore an inscription: Prehende uxorem meam, sis.
Liam was puzzled by the strange words, but at least they had a romantic sound to them. Then it dawned on him: This ring would be a perfect gift for his wife! Veronica nagged and criticized him constantly, and he felt neglected and unappreciated.  She especially hated his hobby of treasure hunting, which she called scavenging.  Maybe the ring would help their relationship.
On his way home he stopped at a bookstore and purchased a Latin dictionary to decipher the inscription.  He laughed out loud when he finished: “Take my wife, please!”
Liam sighed. “If only someone would take Veronica.”
When Liam returned home late that night, Veronica was watching Woman on Top.
“Hey, sweetie,” he said.  “I found a really cool ring today. I think you’ll like it.”
Veronica rolled her eyes and turned up the video with the remote. “Another pull tab, dear?” she said. “More cheap costume jewelry?”
“Hold out your hand,” Liam said.
“I’m tired of the junk your treasure hunting brings home. You should be in the trash business.” Veronica lazily held out her hand, and he slipped the ring on her delicate ring finger. This time, Liam was sure that the stone glowed.  This must be a magic ring! Maybe the legends about rings are true! He watched in amazement as Veronica’s face experienced a metamorphosis. It now glowed with excitement and her earlier cynicism and harshness were gone.
“Why, Liam! It’s beautiful!” she cried.  She jumped from her Lazy Boy chair and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you! My darling!”
Liam wondered if he had entered the wrong house or if Veronica’s doppelganger had moved in.  However, he accepted the new Veronica gratefully. At last, his wishes had come true. He thought it amazing how this lost ring had changed and energized his wife. Her libido increased so much that he called it the “Viagra ring.” After work, instead of wearing himself out doing his wife’s endless list of “honey-do” chores, he found his feet up in the chair, and Veronica waiting on him hand and foot.  She chattered constantly about his greatness, showering him with kisses, thanking him for the ring time and time again.  Liam thought that f the ring’s effects were residual, he could rent the ring to other husbands plagued by wives who needed transformations.  Men would pay a pretty penny for such power.
“There’s a Latin inscription on the inside of the band.”  He snickered. “I translated it at the library. It means ‘I Love you.’ ”
“How sweet! What would you like for supper, dear?”  She rubbed his shoulders. “I’ll cook that casserole you like so much. And maybe later, I can prepare a very special desert.”  She bent and kissed his ear, lightly biting his neck. “You know what I mean?”  The ring glowed brightly as if energized by her romantic mood.
Liam enjoyed the new Veronica—for about three weeks. There were some drawbacks. Veronica’s intense, doting eyes resembled a creature from Tolkien’s Middle-Earth. She wouldn’t allow him out of her sight, even for a second, following his every step closely around the house.  Worse, she became possessive and jealous, screening phone calls, suspicious of every female voice.  Liam felt smothered.
Liam decided that her Stepford-wife condition must be related to the ring, that perhaps some malevolent spirit had possessed her.  The haunted ring had to go. He wanted the previous, predictable Veronica, not the zombie-like slave she had become.  As Veronica would not surrender the ring willingly, he used subterfuge, attempting unsuccessfully to grease her fingers with peanut butter and slip the ring off her finger as she slept.   When that failed, he resorted to force. One day he tackled her, straddling her arm and pulling the accursed ring from her finger.  He left his traumatized wife weeping on the living room floor, begging him to return the ring to her.  However, an almost immediate transformation took place. Before he reached his truck, the whining had changed to cursing.
“That’s better,” he said.  He returned to Lover’s Beach and threw the glowing ring as far into the ocean as he could. He hoped the ring with its mysterious, dangerous power would be forever lost to mankind.  There were other, safer treasures to find. Turning on his detector, he again searched the beach and almost immediately found a silver bracelet. It too had a Latin inscription: Me oportet propter praeceptum te nocere:  I’m going to have to hurt you on principle. The bracelet seemed to glow as he stuffed it into his pocket.

A Beautiful Thursday

Today is absolutely gorgeous in weather. ‘Tis my second day of cigarette abstinence. Other than causing me to bite and gnaw the bark off a few trees in the backyard, it hasn’t affected me much. Wish me luck.

In a moment, I’m going to the Post Office to send to my publisher another children’s book manuscript. Wish me luck with that too.  This afternoon, I’ll be on my way to Wl Feliciana Parish Library for a program there tonight. I received an email from the director there yesterday, and she seems quite excited.  Donnie, Kennedy, a devoted Southerner, just left my house. He recorded me talking about my books, Jim Limber Davis: A Black Orphan in the Confederate White House, and Stories of the Confederate South. He will post what he recorded, plus info on the book and my picture  that soon on a Website that features the signed books of Southern authors.  I’ll be home late tonight and if I’m not too tired, will post an entry about my program/signing tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll be at the Bienville Parish Library in Arcadia and at the Barnes and Noble in Shreveport. Saturday, at the Sam’s Club in Baton Rouge. This means there’s much packing for me to do this morning to prepare for that.  Fall has always been a time when I wrote much poetry, so I thought I’d post one of those fall poems today. I’ve also been reading of the Celts (again).  This produces a strong amount of feeling in me for some reason.

Fall Kisses

I’m your oak,
Sacred tree to the Celts,
Strong, weathered,
Full of ancient memories.
When you’re sad,
My kisses will drift to
Your cheek like leaves,
Stirred, floating on the air.
Clutch my trunk for comfort,
Climb my branches
For a better view of your life.
It is good you’re here with me,
Before winter, for there’s a
Beauty in this fall
Neither of us have ever seen before.
Close your eyes and hear the
Leaves descend, and know
That every leaf will be a kiss.

Wild Wednesday

My schedule is becoming a routine. I’ve been working on editing a book the past few days and am drained from that concentration. Thursday through Saturday, I’ll be very busy again and on the road, and it looks like every weekend will be that way until New Year’s.

Today I’ll be at the college. In my ENG 206 class, I’m going to teach the famous Raymond Carver short story “Cathedral.” In my 102 class at Delta, we are going to continue our study of drama with Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, as well as Oedipus Rex and Trifles. Today is really cold. Of course it made me think of winter. I walked outside and saw that some of my Camellias were in bloom, a sure sign of winter, or at least winter coming. Here’s a poem that resulted from some thought about winter flowers.

Winter Flowers

When I purchased my house,
A few Camellias were in my yard,
Were wrapped in vines,
Weeds, and dead branches,
Like mummies waiting for burial.
I cleaned the detritus,
Pruned, and watered them.
Now, they bloom in
Red, white, and pink,
Flowers of my winters.
A gift to America from Asia,
Brought to the West by a Jesuit priest
In the seventeenth century.
I look at those delicate flowers,
Exotic, beautiful in form and foliage,
And I think of you,
How you were,
How you are now,
Blooming in my life’s winter.

Southern Gothic

Maybe it was the proximity of Halloween that revived my interest in the genre of Southern Gothic literature. We are just entering Vol. E of our Norton Anthology for American Literature in ENG 206, and I began with a study of two stories by Flannery O’Connor. I mentioned “A Rose for Emily” by Faulkner and a few other stories as examples of this genre, and the students seemed to immediately sense the ideas behind it. I also illustrated it with movies I consider to be in the Southern Gothic tradition such as Deliverance, Cape Fear, Sling Blade, Angel Heart, Black Snake Moan, The Green Mile, Skeleton Key, and others.

Here is a list of the characteristics of Southern Gothic that I garnered from several sources:

1. Though in some ways it may be built upon the Gothic tradition, Southern Gothic is a distinctly American genre.

2. Characters often are deeply flawed; damaged; disturbing;disturbed, deranged, delusional or diseased mentally; dangerous; and/or deformed in some way. A deep, inner life is usually lacking and they may be broken in body or soul.

3. Plots are built around or at least using the macabre, bizarre, the unusual, the grotesque–things that make us cringe.

4. The humor is a dark humor. Sometimes a mocking humor that attacks our cliches and habits of life.

5. Southern Gothic explores social issues and reveals aspects of Southern culture.

I truly enjoy teaching this genre. If I teach ENG 206 in the future, I’m likely to give Southern Gothic more emphasis.