He was stressed because of some new things going on that I wasn't aware of. For some reason I told him about Curly having seizures. I have no idea why that popped up but, it did.
I have been out Mama Bone Barnstorming for my debut novel, One Good Mama Bone, across this great land, racking up 41,000 miles on my mud brown Hyundai and meeting the most amazing folks on the planet. A whopping 165 events, including a private party in a 1894 plantation house in Alabama, a swamp party in South Carolina, standing room only for the southern gal out in the renowned Book Passage outside of San Francisco. I am so blessed!
The next night the gift came in the form of a fireball shooting nun celebrating her retirement from St. Bernard's at Lipstick Lounge.
My mother, although a huge fan of my words, occasionally, over the years, made her longings known for my writing to take a turn: “I wish Suzanne would write something that could be printed in the Ladies’ Home Journal.” Translation: “sweet—not dark and violent and disturbing.”
I met a boy. Another underage kid with some detailed, well done tattoos. He was sixteen, but big for his age. With his height and his tattoos he could easily pass for eighteen - or twenty, but when he smiled at me he looked like a little boy. A kid. He was nervous so I [...]
This week’s blog is dedicated to Chad Wilkerson. I met Chad at Suzi’s, the coffee shop inside the hospital where I used to work. I knew the second I saw him he was an interesting guy. I never minded waiting in line when Chad was working because he is so fun to watch interact with [...]
I hadn't intended to write a blog about my dogs this morning, but poor Moe is feeling puny today. I thought he was better, after a messy Monday, and a normal Tuesday. His nose is cold and wet, he ate his dinner last night like always - fast and furious, so when he woke me [...]
He was broke and broken down, he said. "I didn't even have money to stay at a cheap motel, I was going to sleep in my truck. I was banking on winning enough money to get back home on."
When I was little, I had an imaginary friend, his name was Uncle Wilkensack. Actually, I had twenty one imaginary friends because Uncle Wilkensack had a wife, they had seventeen kids and they had two pet alligators. I can still remember the first time I met them. I was sick with a high fever, lying [...]
Something else happened while I was there that I’ll be forever grateful for. My seventh grade science teacher, Nita Heilman, reached out to me on FaceBook and asked if I’d like to volunteer at St. Bethlehem at Room in the Inn. I jumped at the chance.