Archives for 2012

In October of last year I attended my first writer’s conference at my alma mater, Auburn University. I signed up for group classes when I registered for the conference. I signed up for a session taught by a writer friend and chose a couple of classes on writing memoirs, and truth in storytelling.

But a few days before I left for the conference Kim, a writer friend, contacted me in a frenzy. She was green with jealousy that I would be able to hear Joshilyn Jackson speak. I believe my exact response was, “Who?” To which I received a virtual slap in the face. Kim went on in a blazing texting fury to explain to me that Joshilyn Jackson just happened to be the most amazing writer and speaker on the planet and one of the funniest people she could think of off-hand and that our friendship was, for all intents and purposes, over if I did not take this opportunity to stalk Mrs. Jackson and bask in her presence.

Not wanting to lose a good friend, I skipped one of the classes I had signed up for and slipped into Joshilyn’s question and answer session. If you’re not a writer you may not know but, y’all- it is HARD and lonely. There is no idle chit-chat, nobody in the cubicle beside you doing the same thing, and possibly, not even anyone in your ZIP code who understands what the process is like. You obsess about saying too much or not saying enough and wonder endlessly what people will think when they read your words. Then you worry some more that the last story you wrote will be your last because you feel you have nothing left to say.

I was a nervous wreck as I prepared for the publication of my first book and wondered if every book related decision I was making was the right one. And for one hour Joshilyn made me feel completely understood and almost normal. Every story she told made me nod my head with recognition and I laughed out loud as she told stories of her own.

(Side bar: I am a crier. I cry about EVERYTHING. This is not an exaggeration. Happy tears. Sad tears. Tears of laughter. Any emotion other than “I must now unload the dishwasher,” ellicits tears. And if I’m going to be totally honest… sometimes even that.)

I got a little weepy toward the end of the session and began slowly putting my notes away so that everyone else in the room wouldn’t see me crying but Joshilyn made a fatal mistake as she left the room. She made eye contact with me.  I introduced myself and attempted to tell her how much it meant to me to hear her story and I started sobbing. Not just one or two tears sliding down my cheek that could be patted away with the back of my hand. No, these were real tears— streaming down my face a la Tammy Faye Baker with less mascara. (But not much.)

I sniffled and hiccuped. I wanted to die a little. Then I made my next mistake: I acknowledged how cray-cray I was acting.

“I am so sorry. I am such a jackass,” I cried.

“It’s okay! You’re okay!” She assured me.

“No! This is so awkward for you. I’m so sorry.”

“You are alright!! Don’t worry about it.”

She hugged me and patted my back.

She had to HUG ME and PAT MY BACK.

I reigned in the crazy and walked straight to the book table and bought, “gods in Alabama,” her critically acclaimed first novel and even successfully approached her for a signature without crying.

Joshilyn gave her keynote speech the following day and the entire crowd laughed out loud as she spoke, her background in theater performance was evident as she told stories so vivid I didn’t just hear them unfolding but felt like I was watching them. It was hard to believe there was only a woman and a podium on the stage. Her voice changed as she spoke in a thick accent while impersonating her agent and the audience was captivated.

I read “gods in Alabama” in less than two days and it instantly became one of my all time favorite books. Murder, mystery, romance, humor, and fast-paced storytelling that kept me up way past my Mommy Bedtime to see what happened next. I read all four of Joshilyn’s books in two months and wasn’t disappointed with any of them. I love classic Southern storytellers like Fannie Flagg and Flannery O’Connor and Joshilyn Jackson scratched that same itch, but better. Strong words, I know.

So you can only imagine the scream that bounced off my kitchen tile when I got an email from Jamie Kornegay at TurnRow books telling me that Joshilyn Jackson would be coming to Greenwood on Tuesday, January 31^st at noon to read and sign her new book, “A Grown Up Kind of Pretty.” Seating was going to be limited and because I have gushed about my love for all things Joshilyn Jackson at quite some length to Jamie, he wanted to be sure I knew she was coming.

If you’d like to eat lunch with my favorite author on the planet, I’d highly recommend you call TurnRow and reserve a seat. I will be there with bells (and waterproof mascara) on.

Seriously– call TurnRow to reserve a seat! 662-453-5995

For the last two weeks everybody in my house save The Husband has been on antibiotics. We have had a tooth pulled…

“Mommy? I can’t feel myself anymore…”

And after a four hour round trip drive to see a pediatrician Sadie was diagnosed with “a little pneumonia” which says a lot about her disposition and general meanness as of late.

As you may or may not know, I was sick with Not Scarlet Fever and I’m still recovering. Sadie and I have been spending entirely too much time together and we are beginning (ahem) to get on each other’s nerves. Just the other day while we were laying on the couch watching Spongebob and she snatched away my favorite box of gluten-free cereal while my hand was in the box, sending cinnamony goodness hurtling all over the den and yelled at me, “NO MORE SNACKS MOMMA!”

Apparently I was wearing my sad face because she followed up with, “Awwww! Don’t be saaaaaad!”

I’ve been working really hard at that whole “If You Don’t Have Anything Nice to Say” thing– so sorry for my silence, but also? You are welcome.

How are you this winter? Is it 80 degrees at your house one day and 37 the next? Have your children driven you right over the edge of sanity? Holla at me. How you doin’?

And ALSO, click over to Staying Sane While Staying Home to enter for a chance to win a signed copy of “Ketchup!” (Which is STILL Top Rated #1 on Amazon in TWO categories! Humor and Parenting & Families! Thanks so much to everyone for leaving reviews & keeping me on the top of these lists!)

I’ve been going through some old columns working on the second book and this one made me laugh out loud. Sometimes that whole Mommy Memory Thing really works in my favor…

Aubrey, my 5-year-old has gotten into a fun new phase. It all started this summer when I unknowingly bought popsicles with jokes on the sticks. I had to explain every punch line, and the jokes weren’t really funny to start with, but a standup comedienne was born.

I attempted to introduce Aubrey to knock-knock jokes, thinking they would be easier for her to understand. But it only led to more confusion with some hilarity.

“Knock, knock…” I said.

“Knock, knock,” she said back to me.

“No, Aubrey you say, ‘Who’s there?’”
“Who is it, Momma?” She asked.

“No, I say, ‘Knock-knock,’ then you say, ‘Who’s there?’ Get it?”

“Got it!” Aubrey answered.

“Knock, knock…” I tried again.

“KNOCK, KNOCK! Who’s there?! Like that Momma?”

I laughed hysterically which made Aubrey think I had delivered the punch line so she laughed as well. Since our first class in Funny 101, I have had my eyes peeled for jokes she could actually understand and enjoy. Every day when I pick her up from school, she jumps in the car and asks, “Got any jokes for me today, Momma?”

“Why did the tofu cross the road?” I asked her.

“I don’t know…” she said thoughtfully.

“To prove he wasn’t chicken!”

Aubrey looked at me confused. I sighed as I explained to her what tofu actually is and 3 minutes later she laughed. “Oh, that IS funny Mommy!”

Aubrey’s love of jokes is so great she gave me her purple Hello Kitty notebook to record any funnies I might come across while she is in school and this past week she had a brilliant idea. Aubrey wanted to tell her jokes for Show and Tell.

All week long Aubrey practiced her set of four jokes. She told them to neighbors, friends and strangers at the grocery store.

On Friday morning, her daddy took her with him to work for a few minutes before school. Aubrey told joke after joke as my husband’s coworkers began filtering in for a cup of coffee before work.

“What did the mommy bullet say to the daddy bullet?” She didn’t even pause a beat before delivering her punch line, “We’re going to have a BB! Get it? It’s funny because a BB is a tiny bullet.” She explained to a group full of grown men.

Aubrey launched into her next joke before they could even catch their breaths, “What did the in-bis-a-bull (invisible) man drink? Evaporated milk!” She screamed at her daddy’s colleagues. Whether they found her jokes incredibly funny or were shocked at being an unwitting audience to a 5-year-old doing stand-up comedy in their break room before their morning coffee, all the guys laughed and Aubrey’s confidence soared.

I couldn’t wait for Aubrey to get home from school on Friday to hear how her jokes had gone over. I secretly had my fingers crossed that there was at least one child in the room being raised by either vegetarians or avid hunters. If we were lucky there would be one of each and she would get a few laughs without having to explain to everyone in her class what a BB is and why her tofu joke was funny.

After school I asked her, “So, how did it go?”

“My teacher didn’t call on me,” she said her eyes welling up with tears.

“Oh I’m sorry. Well, we’ll just have to practice more and you can tell them next week.”

“Alright,” she conceded. “Hey Mommy, why couldn’t the bicycle stand up?”
And even though I knew the answer by heart, I asked her for the hundredth time, “Why?”

“Because he was two tired. Get it, Momma? It’s funny because a bicycle has two tires!”

“Mommy is too tired, too honey.”

“You don’t have TIRES Mommy!”

We are just having too much pun at my house.