THE PHOEBE NEEDLES CENTER

I like everything about The Phoebe Needles Center in Callaway, Virginia, so when I was invited to speak there on May 10th, I was thrilled. And the fact that I would be in the company of two other authors whom I admire--Becky Mushko and Dan Smith--made it even better. We were the May program for the Center for Lifelong Learning for adults 55 and over which focuses on education and fellowship.

Located in a "you-can't-get-there-from-here" place, I discovered that it's fairly simple when you travel with Becky, who knew an easy way. Dan followed Becky and me from the Rocky Mount Wal-Mart to Route 40 past Ferrum College where we turned onto Turner's Creek Road and drove straight--well, uh, "crooked" is probably a better word--to Phoebe Needles. I was driving, so I couldn't take pictures or gawk a lot. Becky snapped this one and others. If my hubby were not allergic to hay, which is the reason we had to give up our horses, this would be a place I'd like to live. And, folks, it's for sale!


It's worth visiting Phoebe Needles for numerous reasons. The drive along the twisting ribbon of road provides you with gorgeous scenery, and the lunch served at the Center is always delicious. To me, however, the best part about attending their monthly programs is the people you meet. I liked re-connecting with The Rev. John Heck (Executive Director of Phoebe Needles), people I met when I spoke there in 2009, and meeting nice new folks.



The huge room above is arranged for dining in the rear, and a program area in the front. By the time our "Four Writers: Four Viewpoints" program (although only three writers came) began, only a few seats were left. The kitchen is to the right, and there are large porches to the left and end of the building.

Dan read from his memoir Burning the Furniture and his children's book Saving Homer.

Becky ready from her recent novel Stuck and from Ferradiddledumday, an Appalachian version of Rumplestiltskin. Because Phoebe Needles attendees had heard me read from my first novel, Secrets at Spawning Run, in April 2009, this time I read only from Secrets at Sweetwater Cove, my second novel in the "Secrets" series. We could not have asked for a better audience! They were attentive, interested, and asked excellent questions.

Before we left, John Heck showed Becky and me what used to be the Episcopal School's bathrooms. They were outdoors, and you had to walk down steps to a small, dark, creepy area. The daily use "contents" ran out a pipe onto the ground. Yuck. All the plumbing was removed years ago, the bathrooms converted to storage areas.

John Heck at the bottom of the steps.

I'm surprised that the next photo even came out because of the absolute darkness below. Guess I have a better flash on my camera than I realized. Anyhow, after seeing these creepy areas, plots started running through my head.


I took the below picture of a local farm from the porch at the Center. I could live here, too, if hubby weren't allergic to hay. I'd want horses, lots of horses, but horses eat hay, so. . . .



If you're interested in the programs offered, click on Phoebe Needles. You'll be glad you did.

Book Signings and Talks

Book signings and talks with fellow Lake Writers Becky Mushko and Karen Wrigley are always fun. Last week there were two such events. On June 3rd, we gathered at the Roanoke County 419 Library for an "Ask the Author" presentation.

Darlene Smithwick, Reference & Adult Services Coordinator for this incredible library, introduced us. She and her team provided a table draped with cloths for each of us, and provided bottles of water and individual microphones in case we needed them. To our delight, hook-ups for our laptops were handy so we could run our slide shows. Assistant director Michael Meise took lots of photos. And there were cookies! Real ones, the kind you eat. Can you tell I like cookies?

Becky read from her latest book, Ferradiddledumday, an Appalachian version of Rumpelstiltskin, and answered questions from the audience.

Becky Mushko talking about her book. The back-of-the-head view
on the right is of Claudia Condiff, another Lake Writer. I love her hair!
Photo by Michael Meise, Roanoke County 419 Library

Karen read from her book Beyond Woofs and Whinnies and talked about communicating with animals. Franklin, her Golden Retriever buddy, impressed the audience with his intuitive ability, sensitivity and absolute sweetness.

Karen (in white) and Franklin

I read from Secrets at Sweetwater Cove, talked about writing and where ideas come from, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Even though the crowd wasn't huge, the folks were loads of fun.

Left to right: Me, Claudia Condiff, Brenda Sullivan (Franklin's person)
Photo by Michael Meise, Roanoke County 419 Library

Ram's Head Book Shop in Roanoke is one of my favorite independent book stores. When we arrived on June 5, Christine and owner Lolly Rosemond had everything ready. Our books were on the table, and snacks consisting of trail mix, cookies, and drinks were almost within arm's reach. And if you read this blog from the beginning, you know how much I like cookies!

Karen Wrigley and me at Ram's Head Book Shop
Photo courtesy of Becky Mushko

Even though there was lots going on in Roanoke, people came, stopped and chatted. We all sold books, but more importantly, we met some really interesting people. If you've never shopped at Ram's Head, you need to remedy that. They are located at Towers Shopping Center, and they have more than just books. Go. You'll be glad you did.

Such Fun!

Sometimes things are such fun that you just want to jump up and down and yell "Yahoo!" for everybody to hear. I almost did that at The Bluebird Bakery and Grill on February 27th.

At 6:00 that evening, fellow writers Karen Wrigley (see my blog dated 2/15/10 for review of Beyond Woofs and Whinnnies), Becky Mushko (see blog dated 12/5/09 for review of Ferradiddledumday), and I met at The Bluebird for an "Ask the Authors" event, a first for the eatery and for us. With a fire roaring in the fireplace and surrounded by nice folks, we three gals discussed our books and answered questions from the crowd of friends, family, and strangers.

Me, Karen, Becky
All Photos by Ron Roseveare

Some of the folks who attended. Note the goodies on the right.

Me, Karen and Becky at table. Note fireplace, which brought welcomed warmth on a cold night.

Owned and operated by really nice people (the Greene family), The Bluebird Bakery and Grill is a great place to go for coffee and pastry, lunch, and even dinner. Located at 1123 Celebration Avenue in Moneta, Virginia, The Bluebird is open Mondays through Saturdays. I think their chili is delicious; my husband and son liked the barbecue sandwich, and I've heard several people rave about the ribs.

This coming Saturday night (March 6th), families are invited to bring their children with them to The Bluebird. While the parents eat a scrumptious meal, some of the staff will entertain the children by reading to them. So if you want a fun, inexpensive family night out, don't miss this opportunity.

Book Review of Ferradiddledumday

The first time I read a draft of Becky Mushko's Ferradiddledumday was three or four years ago. Immediately I liked her Appalachian version of Rumpelstiltskin and thought it should be published. Then Bruce Rae created the delightful illustrations, making the book even more inviting. When Cedar Creek Publishing wanted to publish it, I was ecstatic. If I told you that I clapped and clapped, and then clapped some more, you wouldn't believe me. But I really did. Honest.

This past Thanksgiving Day, I sat on our sunny deck with several of my grandchildren and started reading aloud Becky Mushko's advance reading copy of Ferradiddledumday, An Appalachian Version of Rumpelstiltskin. The children were hooked as soon as I read the catchy title and showed them the cover. Each time I turned a page they insisted I show them the illustrations by Bruce Rae.


"Look!" one granddaughter said as she pointed to page eight. "This page has a rattlesnake AND a copperhead!"


I nodded and smiled. I, too, liked Bruce's illustrations.

Even though I had read Ferradiddledumday in it's infancy, I read slowly, savoring again the delightful superstitions of Appalachia, enjoying the Appalachian dialect woven throughout the pages. From page 15:

"Ay, well," said her pa when the skies cleared and they could go outside, "the garden weren't hurt too bad. The cornstalks ain't been flatted and the bean vines ain't tore up."

Can't you just feel it, see it? Mushko is a true story teller, and this latest book is honest Appalachian literature. And to top it off, there's a study and discussion guide that draws me in, makes me want to follow it. More importantly, it will appeal to kids, get them interested in researching Rumpelstiltskin, Appalachia, leprechauns. They will learn that research can be fun.

Because I was reading slowly and taking time to show everyone the illustrations, my kitchen buzzer went off before I could finish the book.

"Don't stop now, Grandmother!" one said. "We want to hear the rest!"

But the turkey and sweet potatoes called, and suspecting that 21 folks didn't want to wait much longer before chowing down, I hurried to the kitchen, knowing I'd disappointed my grandchildren. And I smiled, knowing how excited they would be when they received their very own copy of Ferradiddledumday when the book comes out in January 2010. You, dear reader, should buy it, too.

New Bookcase

I never intended to move books today. After all the nagging from my Lake Writer friend and published author of several books Becky Mushko, I figured I’d start my blog. (Becky has nagged me for months. “It’s easy,” she said. “Just do it.”) Instead, this morning I walked Angus the dog, folded three loads of laundry, read e-mail, cleaned the kitchen, and washed a load of sheets and a load of towels. Not together, mind you. Sheets don’t take nearly as long to dry as towels, and I’m a good steward of energy. And I googled blogs of other folks I know and admire, i.e. Becky, Fred First, Fran Nielsen, Colleen Redman, Jack Rupert.

But last week hubby Ron and I acquired two large, just-right-for that-spot bookcases from our neighbor Grace. And after my third cup of Maxwell House this morning, I noticed the bookcases were not full. Horrors. Whatever would my ten grandchildren think? And there was space to put books presently residing for eons on shelves in The Closet. Two and two make four . . .

Stuffed in The Closet I discovered a book I bought when I was in the 12^th grade in Greenville, North Carolina. I’d not thought about it for years. W. Frank Landing was my 12^th grade English teacher, and he wrote a book, War Cry of the South, about the adventures of Confederates during the building of the iron-clad “Albemarle.” War Cry of the South was required reading in his class. Today I tried to google Mr. Landing. No success. I’m, well, 39 years old? Not really, but my mother always said—and I will never forget her words—“A woman who will tell her age will tell anything.” That would make Mr. Landing how old? I wish I’d been able to tell Mr. Landing what his class did for me, and that as an author I realize and appreciate what he went through in getting his book published.

Other books I discovered/rescued from the dank innards of The Closet were California, A Romantic Story for Young People by J. Walker McSpadden, illustrated by Howard L. Hastings, copyright 1926 by J.H. Sears & Co., Incorporated; Camille by Alexandre Dumas, Fils, by The Modern Library New York; Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson (one of my favorite authors), copyright1935 by Whitman Publishing Company, Peyton Place by Grace Metalious, published by Dell Publishing Company, Inc. by arrangement with the original publisher of the work Julian Messner, NC, 1956. In what my daughter Christine calls “Grandmother Books,” I also found a 1972 paperback of Daphne du Maurier’s My Cousin Rachel, Mary Stewart’s 1973 The Hollow Hills, and several hardbacks by Southern writer Inglis Fletcher.

I want to curl up in a corner and re-read these unearthed treasures, but I need to work on my second mystery novel. And company will arrive this weekend, so beds have to be made and the house cleaned.

Hey, this is kind of fun. Maybe Becky was right.