When I was a child and given to daydreaming as children often are, I dreamed of what I would be when I grew up. I wanted to be strong, courageous, glamorous and well-traveled. And more than anything, I wanted to tell stories.
Publisher's Weekly, a trade publication for the book publishing industry, is always full of interesting tidbits. Annually, it publishes the number of books sold for each title that sold over 100,000 copies in one year.
I am always interested to see how these numbers shape up.
Now that Mama's gone, it seems pertinent that someone step up and take her place. Or try to, anyway. Regarding the kind of life that Mama had, I think I'd like to step up and volunteer to turn into Mama.
Karen is always full of advice, even that which I don't desire or necessarily need. Like the other day.
"I have a good piece of advice for you," she began in one of our daily conversations that includes vital information like how many pieces of fried chicken Dixie Dew ate at Mama's or how her kids are not practicing piano. She called me up, I answered the phone and it all began with those words.
As though it was just yesterday, not the too-many-years-to-count that it really was, I can hear my daddy clearly. He'd pull back his shoulders, raise an eyebrow and point his finger at me - always with great meaning - and say, "Little girl, I'm about to learn you a thing or two."
It has taken me all the years - proving that you can always learn important new things - to realize how sensitive men can be.
I get twice as much mail from men who have been offended over something I've written - it always has to do with something that pertains to what they perceive as their manhood - than I get from women over anything.