This month I will appear face to face with an audience for the first time in two years.

One of my favorite writers was a southerner named Pat Conroy. When Gay, Stu and I traveled to the coast of South Carolina a few years ago, we visited Beaufort, SC where Pat Conroy lived. This setting was as much a character in his books as was the people, mostly his own family, who lived in that area. 

In the photo above, I am sitting at his desk. I was thrilled to sit where he wrote all those books I still read. 

The desk is in the Pat Conroy Literary Center  created in his memory and for writers who come and visit. We had an interesting tour and learned much about this very talented man whose books were themes for several major movies.

Here I am at the Tri-County Community College in Murphy, NC where I taught for years until the COVID-19 Pandemic shut it down. I really enjoyed those classes, held in the evening, where I met talented and creative people who wanted to write and improve their writing. Our classes were unusual I think because we bonded so well and developed friendships that have lasted. Although the college is open again to regular classes, the community development classes have not begun again.

This is a headshot of me on my deck in the mountains before the pandemic hit us. I was a happy person who always loved to be with people and enjoyed having friends come and sit with me on my deck high in the tree tops. The virus that shook the entire world took a toll on me and most of my friends here in our region of the southern Appalachians.
 
The isolation was difficult for me and having no family nearby, increased my concern about getting sick and possibly dying as so many older people did in 2020 and 2021. I had a dear friend whose husband was in his 90s and had to go to a nursing home in his last months of life. She could not go inside and be with him so she stood outside his window every day, no matter the weather, and brought him tasty tidbits and talked with him. The saddest part was his insistence that she take him home every time she came to visit him. 

During this time our active writing group discontinued our meetings. The library and the colleges where we met were closed to public meetings.

The John C. Campbell Folk School where we had met each month for many years closed also. Our Literary Hour was discontinued. In three counties of North Carolina and the bordering counties of Georgia, we have a large number of writers and poets who thrive on being with each other and critiquing our work together. These writers publish their work in books, magazines, online journals and reviews.

Some found the quiet time of isolation enabled them in their writing. It did not work that way for me. I was shut off from "my people" who were my friends. I was not motivated and fell into a depressive state. 

I contracted COVID early on and suffered from long-term side effects. In 2020, my last living brother also had COVID and from that time on he was in and out of the hospital. His wife of sixty years died in February of 2021. He passed away in February of 2022.

My life has been forever changed. Although I began teaching writing classes on Zoom, I did not make a personal appearance all these months. I am grateful for the opportunity to teach online and to take classes online. 

But on August 18, at 7:00 PM I will be a guest for the evening along with Brenda Kay Ledford, a poet from Clay County NC at the John C. Campbell Folk School for the return of the Literary Hour. Click the link below to learn more.

https://netwestwriters.blogspot.com/2022/08/literary-hour-returns-to-john-c.html

At the folk school, there is an Open House, a house with no walls, but with a roof and floor. Gatherings have taken place there all summer. Because it is open and has no walls we feel safer from the virus than inside a building. 

We will use this venue for the rest of this year or until it is too cold to meet outside.

Brenda Kay Ledford, award-winning poet and writer

You can read more about this outstanding writer on her blogs.

Find her books on Amazon.com

Brenda and I hope our friends and those who enjoy poetry and hearing good stories will come to the folk school on Thursday evening, August 18. I will share my creative non-fiction and a short story.

For my blogger friends who live too far away to come, I will post one of my stories in a later blog after the eighteenth. 

I hope you have no residual effects of COVID lingering at your house and that you are living your best life each day. 

Don't forget to leave me a comment. It won't appear right away because I must read it first before it goes up. Thanks.

Why do all good things have to end?

I wish you all could have been at John C. Campbell Folk School this afternoon at 4:45 p.m. to hear my students read some of the pieces they wrote this week.


Judy began the reading with stories of the Border War between her grandfather and his neighbor. Judy researched her grandfather, talked with her siblings and others who told her about this character, but she fleshed out this man and told his story in class. The audience loved it.

Pat is an Episcopal Priest. She is also a writer. She writes sermons and has great command of the language, but this was her first attempt to write outside her spiritual work. She said this class has been fun and she now feels confident enough to submit work for publication. The listeners this afternoon at the Keith House loved her reading. I'll never forget "The Conductor."

I’ve read much of Nadine’s memoir since she has been in my classes in the past. She is writing the story of her life and when it is finished, it will make an excellent book. Today she read an excerpt called Aunt Betty’s store. The story stands alone with a beginning that grabs the reader, a great setting, delightful characters and humor. The story entertains and enlightens the reader. Nadine was a hit with the audience she faced today, and her marvelous sense of humor endeared her to all of us.

The biggest surprise this week, for me, was Vicki, another former student who is often quiet and fairly serious in the subjects she chooses. She was the last to read this afternoon. Vicki began with a short but powerful story about death, an elderly woman and an old dog. As I watched the small group sitting before her, listening to every word, I saw tears begin to roll down cheeks, tissues pulled from pockets and faces contorted in efforts to hold back the water works.

The second piece Vicki read was as humorous as the first was sad. Within a few minutes the writer, who had reduced her audience to tears, turned them completely around, and they laughed throughout the hilarious true story about Vicki dying her grandmother’s hair. Much of the joy of this story was in the performance, the dramatic voice and gestures of the writer. I hope Vicki will do some open mic reading in our area this summer.

As you can see, this has been another class at JCCFS in which students and teacher fell in love with writing about our unique lives and sharing funny, sad and nostalgic memories. I hope my students from this class continue to write, to attend writing workshops and seminars with good instructors. That will enrich what they have learned this week. And I hope to see them in my classes again one day.

Tomorrow is our last day, and we sadly say goodbye to the folk school experience, to each other and to having a full week to engage in our passion for writing.