January 17 -19, 2008, I joined other writers and readers in Jefferson, a small town in the piney woods of East Texas. There, Kathy Patrick, dressed in her trademark hot-pink and leopard print, hosts her annual bash, The Girlfriend Weekend, a celebration of books and big hair. Patrick, an avid reader and a former publisher’s rep, operates Beauty and the Book (www.beautyandthebook.com), a combination bookstore and beauty salon. She is also the founder of the Pulpwood Queens’ Book Clubs (www.pulpwoodqueen.com) and author of THE PULPWOOD QUEEN’S TIARA-WEARING, BOOK-SHARING GUIDE TO LIFE, in which she shares her passions for literacy and living.
The weekend was a loosely organized collection of book talks, panel discussions, and parties, attracting a variety of authors, booklovers, and Pulpwood Queens in sparkling tiaras. This is a festival more for readers to socialize with writers than for aspiring writers to learn about craft. It’s also a chance for the guest authors to leave the keyboard, talk about their books, and connect with book-loving, fun-loving girlfriends—and a few guy friends, too.
When time came for me to present my novel, WOMEN OF MAGDALENE, set in a 19th century ladies’ lunatic asylum in Louisiana, I looked out at an audience of intelligent, curious women, enjoying their community and reveling in their individuality. I thought of the women of my fictional asylum, locked away as many real women were, because they had not conformed to the dictates of the men in charge, the men who held power over the women’s lives—fathers, husbands, doctors, judges, ministers, and politicians. When those men set the standard for what was sane female behavior, they sometimes got it wrong, and asylums could become catchalls for inconvenient women. It was not unusual for 19th century American men to view women’s book clubs with suspicion—all those women gathering without male supervision, reading and exchanging ideas, asserting their own opinions, challenging authority. How marvelous now that book clubs, such as the Pulpwood Queens’ and Timber Guys, continue to flourish, provoking thought, unafraid of being a little outrageous.
Rosemary Poole-Carter, WOMEN OF MAGDALENE, ISBN-13: 978-1-60164-014-7
Friday, January 25, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
THANK-YOU NOTES
Before early January becomes late, I hope to finish up sending notes to family, friends, and acquaintances, thanking them for their many kindnesses in the past year and wishing them well in the New Year. To them, I’ll send my thanks by letter or e-mail or speak it over the phone or face-to-face. My thanks to others—kind strangers with generous spirits—must travel in this posting to people I don’t know by name.
Thank you to those in the many service professions—in restaurants and hotels, in retail and transportation, in offices and hospitals—who offered friendliness, helpfulness, and compassion along with competence. Thank you to the drivers who let me merge in traffic, and to the residents who gave me directions when I was a stranger in your town. Thank you to the young man in a New York subway station, who saw me struggling with my suitcase and carried it for me up the stairs. I appreciate all of you, who nodded or smiled and acknowledged the cliché that is true, that we are all in this together, all travelers on the same planet.
My circle of friends and acquaintances continues to expand, and to those newly met Internet folk, who share favorite quotes, books, and provocative ideas or post fascinating information on myriad websites—thank you all. This past year, I joined the publishing family of Kunati Inc., and my world grew larger and richer with more reading and writing friends and associates. Some I can thank by name. Here my gratitude also goes out, as well, to those I have not met—booksellers and librarians and readers, who took the time to support my work or post a review or send me an e-mail.
There is a particular group of strangers I wish to thank with all my heart. On November 3, 2007, my younger daughter and her friend were badly injured when their motorcycle was struck by a car. Thank you to the strangers who stopped traffic and rendered aid. After my daughter sailed off the bike and struck the pavement, she was so afraid that she’d be run over, but you made sure she was safe. An off-duty nurse held my daughter’s head to prevent her thrashing. Someone called for emergency medical help, and many watched over my daughter and her friend until the life-flight helicopter arrived.
Thank you to the doctors, nurses, physical therapists, respiratory specialists, and many other medical care workers at the hospital, whose skills and compassion make such a difference in traumatic times. A special thanks to those nurses who moved a bed across the hall, so my daughter and her friend could see for themselves that they had both survived the accident. Your act of kindness, which allowed them to talk over their ordeal and console one another, helped begin the healing of their spirits as well as their bodies. When you care for a patient, you comfort a whole family.
Like Blanche DuBois, I often depend on the kindness of strangers, and to kind strangers everywhere, this is my thank-you note to you. Gratefully, Rosemary Poole-Carter
Thank you to those in the many service professions—in restaurants and hotels, in retail and transportation, in offices and hospitals—who offered friendliness, helpfulness, and compassion along with competence. Thank you to the drivers who let me merge in traffic, and to the residents who gave me directions when I was a stranger in your town. Thank you to the young man in a New York subway station, who saw me struggling with my suitcase and carried it for me up the stairs. I appreciate all of you, who nodded or smiled and acknowledged the cliché that is true, that we are all in this together, all travelers on the same planet.
My circle of friends and acquaintances continues to expand, and to those newly met Internet folk, who share favorite quotes, books, and provocative ideas or post fascinating information on myriad websites—thank you all. This past year, I joined the publishing family of Kunati Inc., and my world grew larger and richer with more reading and writing friends and associates. Some I can thank by name. Here my gratitude also goes out, as well, to those I have not met—booksellers and librarians and readers, who took the time to support my work or post a review or send me an e-mail.
There is a particular group of strangers I wish to thank with all my heart. On November 3, 2007, my younger daughter and her friend were badly injured when their motorcycle was struck by a car. Thank you to the strangers who stopped traffic and rendered aid. After my daughter sailed off the bike and struck the pavement, she was so afraid that she’d be run over, but you made sure she was safe. An off-duty nurse held my daughter’s head to prevent her thrashing. Someone called for emergency medical help, and many watched over my daughter and her friend until the life-flight helicopter arrived.
Thank you to the doctors, nurses, physical therapists, respiratory specialists, and many other medical care workers at the hospital, whose skills and compassion make such a difference in traumatic times. A special thanks to those nurses who moved a bed across the hall, so my daughter and her friend could see for themselves that they had both survived the accident. Your act of kindness, which allowed them to talk over their ordeal and console one another, helped begin the healing of their spirits as well as their bodies. When you care for a patient, you comfort a whole family.
Like Blanche DuBois, I often depend on the kindness of strangers, and to kind strangers everywhere, this is my thank-you note to you. Gratefully, Rosemary Poole-Carter
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