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The OFFICIAL Book Tour culminated Saturday in Vicksburg, appropriately on the Mississippi Blues Trail, which attracts not only domestic travelers but scores of international visitors each year. Here, one can see locotourism is action, the town thriving off roadways and an energetic, dedicated group of Arts District residents who live, work and socialize in studios and salons. No wonder Europeans love it. Laura Weeks and husband Troy opened Lorelei Books in a personal exodus from corporate life and urban living. (Remember The Creative Class) What they found was a way of Southern life both modern and provincial, making it up along the way as they led the revitalization of an entire town. It began with gutting what is now their bookstore and finishing out above a pied-a-terre right in a small town. Others followed and now many work below their living quarters, contributing each morning to the local coffeehouse, conversation and arts fellowship. That day, AD and I met so many who claim Laura is the anchor of that rural love, transforming a near-abandoned downtown with her enterprising spirit and bookstore--a sign of intelligent life--and it has been contagious. Like so many southerners, Laura has sense of family and home which pervades Lorelei, so that one feels the provincial flair within the veracity of a New York shop. Her family ancestral home, Chretien Point, is a book unto itself, and when browsing, one feels as if each title has been personally selected for you--an eclectic selection that makes you want to expand your usual repetoire. I swear I almost took home a bio on Daniel Boone !
Of those she introduced, the theme of Backyards spoke to me, first with "You Are Where You Eat" by Elsa Hahne, which captures the recipes of real New Orleanians in their neighborhood kitchens. I always say I can spot someone from nola in O'Hare. They just have that kinda sweet face with a little Elvis in them--an irrististable combination. Here, someone has effectively captured that in the food, asking for their "Holy Trinity." No one there understood the significance but to me, she broke the code. (In Translation....that's the three ingredients you can't live without in your kitchen.) Of course AD, chef extraordinaire had a strange take on this question, replying butter, flour and green onions. I guess he plans for us to live on hush puppies, which would make him, along with his "redneck tea," very happy.
But the real surprise of the day came from the companion book of a Katrina Collection titled Backyards and Beyond by HC Porter. The Warholesque artist is a real asset to the state, her work appearing in Hollywood homes, Governors mansions and well anyone who loves contemporary art with its own version of social gospel. Its Southern, real and remarkable. AD and I had the opportunity to visit her studio up Washington Street. The Collection is on exhibit, based on 9000 photos and innumerable field recordings post-K. When we met, there was an instant connection, that of the storm. We were both telling the same story, just in different languages. In her book, HC wrote, "To be human is to be on a journey. To be a survivor of a hurricane is to advance that journey." Wow, I wish I had written that. www.loreleibooks.com and www.hcporter.com  On The Rooftop with HC Porter
 The View
Perhaps it was the torrential rains that covered the Gulf Coast for days prior, but when AD and I set foot upon Main Street and felt the bay breeze, whiffed the briny air and watched the sun set upon the languid white caps, we paused and remembered the beauty and the storm.
Inside, the people flowed with stories of heroism and despair, for they had lost everything to the waves. To the wind and rain. To the eternal grace of the bay.
Everyone seemed to have lost everything--and like all bittersweet sagas, one must truly hear it from the storyteller to capture its full heartfelt effect.
For those experiencing Katrina apathy, no, they're not over it, for healing has its own timeline, and personally, I think they deserve all the time in the world.
But we also saw the renewal, and the perseverance of small business to rebound and thrive. Bay Books celebrates its third year this month and was one of the busiest stores we have visited this summer. Check out their books on Walter Anderson, the Mississippi artist who drew inspiration from Horn Island, and with any purchase, receive a free Indie Bound recyclable bag as their birthday gift to you.
After dark, we made our way downtown for the "Second Saturday Celebration" and I thought how as a young girl, I listened to my grandmother, Mary Alice, a native, reminisce about Betsy and Camille decades later, and never did it lose its grip on my senses.
Now, decades later, I know never is it a waste of time to remember those experiences because we are all experiences in the making. And theirs is one of victory.
I fell for the Cane River and the town of Natchitoches last year, when I was preparing the final manuscript of The Broken Fall for my publisher. I can't really say how I arrived there, but I can say after one week, I was sold on meat pies, devouring them daily in my makeshift office. Best known as the hometown of this Southern delicacy and the book turned iconic southern film Steel Magnolias, there is another side to the town that flourishes with tourists and locals in the former settlement that brags it is actually older than New Orleans. Come on, I said. But truly, they claim it and well, I was never the historian. So along this pastoral boulevard, the riverfront, crawls people, lots of them, especially east Texans loving the food, ambiance and nightlife, and the lovely and inspiring Book Mercant, J. Michael, my idea of an Americam bouquiniste, and I felt for a moment back on the Seine in Paris, watching the art of bookselling along the promenade. (Hint....He's right there on the right with his beautiful assistant Deidre).
This man loves his customers, hand-selling and knowing them on a first name basis, and I can tell you every one left pleased with their find, and no one left emply-handed. It was well, great. But even more fun were the eclectic mix of those we met, including Miss Natchitoches, many Post-K transplants from New Orleans and the Misses Breaux Bridge, who were visiting the aforementioned reigning queen.
Royalty does still exist in America, as I can attest, and I even got for one small moment, to sample that rare delight of being a real beauty queen, as Miss Natchitoches handed me her crown, It's true!!! and well, I'd like to thank everyone that made this possible, especially AD caught below sampling the local fare! He always thinks its a party, I swear>>>>>He's even beginning to get his own fan base on these road trips...look how how he holds court! Unbelievable, and awesome, we love you Book Merchant!
There are certain towns that are balmy, thick and filled with possibility--like summer as a young girl, when it seemed day and then nights would never interfere or intersect, long, wondrous and carefree--never interrupting the sweet pleasure of simplicity. Natchez seems to capture the heart of a restless, extended season where one can feel below its placid surface excitement stirring in its murky belly. The people are kind and generous, a pedigree of gentility that does still exist in the deepest parts of the South's soul. This city got the concept of downtown development long ago--and within its cornered streets rests Turning Pages, a darling bookstore with one of the best selections of literature I have seen. I wanted to buy ever classic alive, but instead enjoyed the company of mascot "Sugar" and a host of travelers on The First Friday of August. This is what an indie bookstore should be ya'll. Of course, AD won hearts with his stories and his books on guns. I keep explaining to him the world is no longer filled with cowboys. Guns=bad in most minds. But he continues to exercise his Constitutional right as I cringe, explaining it really is just target shooting. Les animeaux est sain et sauf. Here below, Irmease, the Exec. Dir of DDA assures me it is the only place in MIssissippi one can take in a sunset. Imagine that--a book and a view. I'm lovin' it at www.turningpagesbooks.com
I began my relationship with the town of Laurel in a hurricane so it was ironic again a hurricane--The Broken Fall: A Katrina Collection-- led me back to the gem of a town in the piney belt of Mississippi where lumber barons reigned and built stately homes along a grid that compares only to New York in street planning. Numbers and straight lines. A novel idea for someone from the Crescent City. We love curves and names you cannot say or spell. Clio = CL ten. Really.
And if you follow those lines around their central park, one will stumble upon one of the finest private museums in the South. Lauren Rogers, as a young local visionary, began building his dream home there, and upon his untimely death, it was finished as a gallery and an extensive working art resource library. Their basket collection, made locally by Native Americans is unrivaled, and I look with great anticipation to this month when Welty in New York debuts, celebrating the writer's photographic journal of the Big Apple. But the grande dame of the landmark is the Reading Room, sophisticated and rich in legacy, including its free-standing coat of armor which always entices local children to spend a night at the museum. And they come and come. Adults come free! Please visit and ask for Liz. She's their lethal weapon! www.lrma.org
There's a hot vibe in our hometown Barnes and Noble (Mandeville, Louisiana)__and a whole new set of the literary young and beautiful. See, my demo (media term for people interested in a particular brand/product/book) has typically been women 25-54, but Saturday I saw a very refreshing book happening...it is now de rigeur for twenties ladies and men to be into real literature. I'm not talking vampire books but Austen, Thoreau, poetry...and they're not required reading! They're once again studying English as majors and forming book clubs--very beatnik kinda events. Case in point, the twentyish young lady escorting her grandfather in for a copy of Confereracy Of Dunces, and the notion female authors are the new orbiters of social trends. I personally am thrilled and see this as a welcome sign of the economic times--intelligence is the true commodity.
Just like people, there are some places you just fall for in an instant. Call it chemistry or that they just seem to do what makes your day feel on time, then you rest in that place knowing all is well with your soul. We discovered on Alabama's coast a bookstore that is tearing up the literary scene--a spawling indy-owned "mom and pop" that's far from small town. Tucked in the charming county limits of Fairhope, its orange and iron two-story facade wraps the corner along a whole block, holding inside a treasury of working knowledge of titles and a fantastic children's section.
On any given evening, there's an event in the Upstairs Reading Room, last night, my dramatic reading of "The Broken Fall" to a
musical medley by acoustic guitarist Blind Dog Mike. It was though stars were falling on Alabama, the night silenced by just words, chords and amazing peace. www.pageandpalette.com
As the Book Tour officially launched yesterday, it made me wonder what makes an American girl, well, American. It all began at approximately 2pm that afternoon in Barnes and Noble, when young ladies with very pressing faces passed the signing table. On and on they streamed, a phenomena unto themselves, as dolls flung over shoulders and in backpacks accompanied their "moms" to a VIP meeting. I had to check it out, and discovered in the kids arena an American subculture--doll lovers. And I wondered why we are so unique--enough to have our very own brand?
I think its the spirit, the charm and the irresistible spark opportunity gives the eye. We, ladies, make things happen. One mother brought her daughter to the table to meet a "real author." Really, and I felt pretty mature and responsible. Then, minutes after, the whole Blue Angel thing took over, or the sheer pride you feel in this military town, and I left wanting a pair of cutoff blue jeans and a heavy dose of metal. Oh yes, and one of those American flag bikinis. My rep declined to comment.
For those who have not visited the Bay since Katrina, there's a new generation of store owners, shops and restaurants like the one we discovered, Bay Books, a neat shop with lots of Welty, Faulkner and other local hits. Andrew loved the two giant cats, "the size of dogs." Of course, there are still the venerable shops we grew to love on our weekend visits and summer stays from the city. Please go visit.
And while there, mosy (that's southern for slow walk) over to The Buttercup, where you will experience the best dressing on a chicken salad ever....fiery red Natasha's Secret Roasted Red Pepper Dressing... peppers, garlic, cilantro and ...mystery. Andrew says we always end up "at food." Always. It's being raised in New Orleans. We ask about dinner in the morning, decide what to eat days prior. It's not my fault. So as we finish the advance work and begin the tour, you'll hear alot about food. Food and books--is there anything else?
And among the rainbow umbrellas and micro bakery, there is still talk of reconstruction, inspectors and the bread pudding which just sold out. I'm already ready to come back as we get a sweet tea to go. I swear you cannot take a country boy anywhere. Here is AD and his buttercup--swearing on his text, "I am not with another woman." right.
No matter how long one has lived in Louisiana, or the South for that matter, the sweet mystical hum of the Mississippi still awes and lures and surprises...yet again. So as we make our way across the bi-state region doing advance work on the book tour, we are fascinated by the people and the food and well, the character names like "Miss Lou." That's Mississippi-Louisiana for those like myself embarking north from McComb en route to the town of Natchez...a dream of hills and valley, green banks and cognac churns, altogether lovely in a pastoral sense, exotically old and true. Here we are at Ginna's Diner in Bude, Mississippi meeting and greeting folks. My rep of course is like invisible. Where is she? I think spaying the bill.
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