In the Still of the Night

You should know that my very own mother has a short story up at a new e-zine called Southern Hum. Check it out. We are beside ourselves with excitement! As Mom and I were discussing this exciting development over the phone yesterday, we agreed that writing is more a sickness than a talent. You need to do it, but you don’t want to do it. And sometimes you want to do it, but then you’re embarrassed about it. And then, finally, you write the perfect sentence and it’s fantastic. And then you’re proud of it, but you don’t want anybody to actually SEE it. Unless they’ll like it and then, of course, yes—please do read it! It’s an affliction. Truly.

And, while we're on the subject, what is it about southern writers anyway? Why so much better, so much more colorful? Face it, there's not a yearly volume of short stories published called "Best of the North". No, only "Best of the South". And, hello? Oxford, Mississippi? "Tennessee" Williams? Face it writing's all about the south. And, don't go making some smart-assed "Kentucky isn't the south" comment, either. 'Cause there's a whole state full of southerners here ready to smack you up-side the head with their country hams who think differently.

My POINT, however, is that Mom has come up with something wonderful. Read and enjoy. I hereby predict that this is just the beginning.

Go Mom!