Thursday's Talk About the Book

From Romance Times Book Reviews:

Everson's evocative writing puts the reader in the midst of the gorgeous seaside setting. It takes a while to connect with the characters, but after a few chapters they seem like real people. The abrupt ending is puzzling, but possibly a sequel is in the works to further explore this wonderful family.

Okay...first, I'd like to say a huge THANK YOU to Melissa Parcel, who reviewed the book. And another THANK YOU for calling my writing "evocative."

Let's look at that word, shall we? To be EVOCATIVE means to EVOKE...feelings, memories...to "call them up" and to "draw them out."


Well, I believe I like that, don't you? I like knowing my words can "call up" memories or feelings. That's the whole point, I think. I write to tell a story, but even more, to make my readers think the story is real. And, in that "reality" they can find answers to their own life-questions. Or, maybe they can just escape for a while. 

Okay, bottom line. I write because if I don't, my brain will pop, what with all these men and women, boys and girls running around, talking to me, telling me their stories as if I don't have enough of my own. (Perhaps only novel writers will truly appreciate that.)

I also like knowing my characters seem like real people. (Thank you. Thank you very much. My work here is done...) But I have to be honest...they are real people. At least to me. I spend a LOT of time with these folks. I have their photos. I've put together their wardrobes. I've gone over their past, their present, their future. I know what they like, what they don't like and all the things you wish you knew about them but don't. (If they knew I knew, they may rise up and kill me so...shhhh!)

AND... I just LOVE that Ms. Parcel thinks the family is wonderful. The family is dysfunctional at best...but then again, what family isn't? I think this honest writing makes the reader say, "Oh, I know exactly  what this feels like!"

In Chasing Sunsets, Kimberly Claybourne Tucker is a divorced mother of two boys. Her husband "just didn't want to be married anymore" and Kimberly cannot, for the life of her, understand that. After all, wasn't she a good wife? A doting mother? Enter Steven Granger, her high school sweetheart. The boy who broke her heart. The only man she ever loved, other than her husband. Steven is also divorced. His wife left him with their toddling daughter, Eliza. He reared her the best he could, all the while working hard, staying away from the dating scene to concentrate on Eliza, and now--with Eliza in college and Kimberly back in Cedar Key--he's willing to open his heart again. He knows he did Kim wrong way back when, but he also knows they were kids. 

Kim, however, hasn't quite gotten over that fact.

Here's the point I'm trying to make. Years ago, when I first entered in to the world of Christian fiction, we Christian fiction writers were hard-pressed to find a publisher who'd let us write about such things as two divorced adults who are both Christians and want to find love again. So, BRAVO to Baker/Revell (my fabulous pub house!) and to all those who are saying, "Yes! This is real life, people! This is what the church is facing today...and we must confront it."

Finally, I'd like to address the "abrupt ending." While, yes, there is another book on the horizon (I have a matter of DAYS...okay WEEKS...to get this thing done!), I honestly didn't feel the ending was abrupt. So, here is what I have decided... the book was just SO GOOD, the reviewer didn't want it to end. (Smiling broadly here!) I know I didn't! When I knew this part of the story was over and that it was time to type: THE END, I cried. I have grown to love Kimberly and Steven and Patsy  and...

...Oh! Did I mention the second book is Patsy's story!? Wait till you hear....

Thursday's Talk About the Book

I had a meeting today with the print and media publicists at Baker/Revell for Chasing Sunsets.


Okay, first I have to tell you this. They loved the book. The print publicist, Karen, went on and on and on about it. And, of course, I let her. I mean...after all...

I shared with them that I'm getting ready to return to Cedar Key to do some videotaping of the area, some of the locations and the people you'll read about in the book. Can't wait. Cedar Key just really is one of my favorite places and I want to bring it to all of you as well.

I found this neat video on YouTube... so I'm kinda stealing it here. It'll do for now, right?

Meanwhile, I have Book Two to write. If I'm going to finish in a timely manner, I have to write 1005 words a day between now and due date... and so far today, not a word has been tapped out of this computer.

I'm on it!

Southern is as Southern Does

So the other night I can't sleep. I make my way to the sofa in the family room, toss the accent pillows to the far end, pull the warm and fuzzy "throw" from the back and grab the TV remote.

My dog, Poodar, nestles at my feet.

I turn on the television and wait several seconds for a picture to emerge. When it does, there's Sally Field, looking older than her years and Tom Hanks looking trim and clean shaven. Forrest Gump.

"I'm home, Mama," Forrest says, making his way up the front porch steps.

"I know ya are, Forrest," Mama says, taking his face in her hands. Then she turns and calls to the maid, "Louise!"

In the background, a long drive makes a path to a stone entryway followed by two long rows of parallel live oaks. It is quite the landscape. And quite the scene.

When my mother was alive, and after a long period of having not seen me, she would call and say, "When are you coming home?"

I'd tease and say, "Why, Mother, I am home."

Then she would say, "You know what I mean."

To Mother, her house would always be my home.

When I was a young girl, I dreamed of getting away from Small Town America (what was I thinking?). Then I left. I went first to a college town. I felt all grown up but I was only fifteen minutes from my childhood. Then I went to one of the five largest cities in Georgia. I learned to drive in what, at the time, I thought was maniacal traffic (I had not yet moved to Orlando nor had I navigated the treacherous fast lanes of Atlanta). I found out quickly that in a city of this size you will not know everyone and everyone will not know you. Meaning: they won't know your business either. That has both good and bad attached to it.

After sixteen years, my family and I moved to Orlando, Florida. Now that was an experience. Family and friends from back home would say to me, "Well, at least you still in live in the South." to which I would reply, "Noooo...you have to go North to get South of here."

Mother cried, of course. I was another two hours farther away than I had been. May as well have been on the moon or some other distant galaxy. I promised to come more often, but I didn't, which of course I now highly regret. I got bogged down with making a house a home, people a family, life worth living.

Most Floridians have a certain style when it comes to house plans. The homes have that "Florida" look (amazingly enough), which means "an open floor plan." Rarely do you see the grand Colonial and Antebellum styles one would find in Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and the Carolinas...hough it does happen. And, most Floridians have a certain style when it comes to furnishings. But when you come into my home, there's no doubt where I'm from. Antique furniture and bric-a-brac blended with newer pieces declare my heritage. Victorian inheritances meet Baer's Home Furnishings.

Being Southern is more than just about being born in the South-Eastern United States. It's a state of mind. It's a history and a future. It's a way of life. Complicated at times but we have no problem understanding it. It's about sipping Mint Juleps on the veranda and walking the dusty stretch of a country road.Swimming in a creek, fishing on a lake, and having high tea at the Ritz Carlton. It's your fanny frozen to the bleachers in the wintertime and fanning yourself with whatever you can find, sitting in the same place in the summertime, just watching a different game.

It's Gone With the Wind and Tobacco Road.


Which brings me to what this is all about. This blog is about all things Southern. A place where I can talk about my Southern heritage and you can share a little about yourself too. A place where I can discuss my work of Southern Fiction (for Baker/Revell) and you can share your grandma's recipe for Sweet Potato Pie.

Come on, now. Welcome to Eva Marie Everson's Southern Voice.