Janis Owens' American Ghost

With American Ghost, Janis Owens joins the exalted ranks of Eudora Welty, Harper Lee, and Carson McCullers as a leading voice of Southern Gothic literature. With her story teller's mastery of southern dialect she creates characters as true as the North star and a plot as potent as a fine Mint Julep. Owens probes our southern soul, picks at the scabs of our collective guilt, and leaves you reeling long after the final page.

Sharman Burson Ramsey, author of Swimming with Serpents

B and N and Books-A-Million

The marketing of novels is big business. I have discovered that it doesn't matter if your novel is the best since To Kill a Mockingbird. What does matter is whether your publisher will accept a return on the books not sold. Now, that gets to be a big problem for university presses that operate on a shoestring budget. While they produce a quality hard back book, they cannot afford the budget of the big publishers. 

Today I visited Barnes and Noble and Books-A-Million just to introduce the managers of both big box stores to my novel. Swimming with Serpents is Alabama history in fiction form published by a university press with an excellent reputation. One would think it would be included in the local section of a book store of Dothan, Alabama, the home of the author, even if it were not carried elsewhere. Unfortunately, that is not the case. At Barnes and Noble, I encountered a very nice young woman manager who informed me that they could order the book through the store but only one copy at a time. They could not keep any on the shelf even though it should be included in the local history section. Yet the the book can be ordered through the Barnes and Noble website already at a great discount. She was not very encouraging.

However, at the Books-A-Million store I met with an enthusiastic new manager and a store clerk who wanted to know more about the book. The manager took my name and number so that he could call me back after discussing how to handle books by local authors who are published by smaller presses. Whether they carry the book or not, I left with a fondness for that store simply because the people were so nice and encouraging! They acted like they really WANTED to carry the book even if their corporate policy prohibited it. 

I now understand why the Southern Independent Booksellers Association is such an important meeting for publishers and authors. It is a lot like getting your song on the radio. Unless someone believes in you enough to carry your book and tell folks who like that type of book about it, your novel will die a lonely death, unless it catches on with Amazon and you have an internet sensation.

There is only one independent book store in Dothan that I am aware of. Theressa  Nynan at the Little Red House Book Store on Oates Street acted excited for me about the book. She has been hearing about it for years as I have been a regular at her store (before I had to hibernate to write the book). She has ordered the books through Ingram the distributor who Mercer has associated to distribute their books throughout the nation and wants to host a book signing. 

Self-published books have an even harder time.

There's a learning curve about the writing business. I am still on the first rung.

But, will they like it?

It has been my habit to censor every word when I write. But, after fifteen years of reading about the era and the people of the Creek Indian War, I let the images in my mind dictate the words on the page. I told it as I saw it. This was a tumultuous time, wild and angry. There was little sweet and gentle about it. In order to create the appropriate sense of danger, those images were necessary. And though Swimming with Serpents is set against the backdrop of the Creek Indian War. It is told not from a warriors' perspective but from the perspective of the people who endured that time. I wanted their story to be real and their tale to be told as honestly as I could conceive of the lives of these individuals who lived in my mind. 

Perhaps there is a bit too much history in the beginning. But building a foundation for a series of books takes time. I hope you, the readers of Swimming with Serpents, will settle in with your introduction to the people who were the major players of these events, absorb (or become acquainted with in order to refer back to) the genealogy of those who fought this war, and let Cade and Lyssa tell you their story. On my website, http://www.sharmanbursonramsey.com, you will find these genealogies listed along with pictures and brief histories of the major characters. Many of them play a part in the sequels to this novel. In addition, you will find a Readers Guide to the novel to provoke thought on the causes of the Creek Indian War which might actually be causes of war in today's world: culture clash, religion, economics. 

Is the book appropriate for Young Adult readers? A friend who was a former high school librarian did not have alarm bells go off when she read the book. Are the topics appropriate? Courage, love, war, commitment, family and redemption? This is a history of our country that hasn't been told and yet, if our DNA is any clue, it is a story many of us harbor in our past that has been kept secret. This was indeed a secret of my own family. Exposing young readers to these ideas must be a decision between parents and teachers. 

"To the victor belongs spoils," said New York senator William Marcy of Andrew Jackson's presidential victory of 1828. But not just the spoils, the victor owns the story that will be told. I hope to redeem the story for the Native Americans who lost  25,000,000 acres of land to Andrew Jackson in the treaty of Fort Jackson.  That is a large part of Alabama, the state of my birth, a state in which my roots are generations deep.  This story is mine  -- and  yours.  I am constantly reminded that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

Swimming with Serpents sets the scene for the sequel which is to be released next year, Nest of Vipers, which follows survivors of the Creek Indian War into Spanish Florida and the First Seminole War. 

Why did I write these books? How could I not? The history in these books is real. I wanted to put flesh and blood on the facts and make this era come alive for my readers. These people deserved to have their tale told. I hope they come alive for you as they have for me.

Sharman Burson Ramsey
September 17, 2012 

Chatauqua and the mystery of the Squirrell King's daughter

I have been invited to join the faculty for the Florida Chatauqua Assembly. This is quite an honor and I look forward to making a presentation on

Saturday, January 26, 2013 at 1:45 p.m. at the charming DeFuniak Springs Library. But, I will be there from Wednesday until Sunday selling my books. Joe and I are on an adventure -- into the world of books, assemblies, festivals, and speaking engagements. We will meet lots of new people and learn much along the way, I am sure. Perhaps they will be North Florida cousins!

Though Benjamin and Vashti Vann Jernigan first settled in the Burnt Corn Springs area and then near Fort Crawford, they eventually moved down to the Milton, Florida area where Benjamin started a saw mill. Vashti died of yellow fever in 1820 and is buried in Florida Town, Florida. I want to share with you a letter that a cousin of mine received because I think the grave he stumbled upon was that of my 5th great grandmother, the mother of Vashti Vann, Mary King, daughter of the Squirrel King of the Chickasaw of whom Edward Cashin writes in Guardians of the Valley. My relatives in North Florida may need to know this. I was told of this grave by another relative who lives in North Carolina. I did not remember this note until just recently, so it is obviously important.

Dear ___________:
I am sharing this with you because I believe you can understand the experiences I am about to describe. I must admit, the names could be biased but I don't think so.
I have always been drawn to the country and lands in this section of Southern Alabama. Many times I have traveled through the towns and backwoods roads while experiencing a kind of unexplained spiritual awe and connection to everything I encountered in the countryside and landscape. I would wonder myself at times why I was drawn to these places, these woodlands. I began by traveling through the Blackwater Forest up the Blackwater, Conecuh and Yellow rivers to the lands around Florala, Andalusia, Opp, Elba, and Troy. My uncle and I traveled these roads many, many years ago buying chickens from country farmers for his chicken business. My journeys moved ever westward and northward through Brewton, Flomaton, Atmore, McCullouch, Uria, Frisco City and Monroville. I traveled up the Alabama River through Bay Manette, Stockton, Tensaw, Little River, Chrysler, Manistee, and Perdue Hill, always experiencing a reverence and awe for the country I was exploring. From Perdue Hill I crossed to the west bank of the Alabama through Claiborne to the Old Line Road. I went up the Old Line Road through Vashti, Lower Peach Tree, Sunny South, and on through Miller's Ferry Lock and Dam to Camden. On the Old Line Road I met a stranger, who really wasn't a stranger after all, as we squatted together and drew maps on the ground of old places long forgotten, as we stood and experienced a spiritual bonding, a spiritual blessing. We became the brothers all men should strive so hard to become in a profound silence that words were never used to explain. Up the Little Escambia and Burnt Corn Creeks I traveled, intersecting the Old Stage Coach Road Five through Burnt Corn, Pine Orchard and Beatrice. I lived in Montgomery at one time, and traveled up through Wetumpka, Talladega, Sylacauga, and Lake Martin, through Birmingham, Gardendale, Culman and Welty. I could go on and on, but the story is now clear to me after searching through my ancestry on the Jernigan line. I was revisiting the lands of my ancestors, and experiencing the profound spiritual connection they had to their world in their time. I knew nothing of my connection to the Tombigbee, Alabama, Conecuh, and Coosa rivers, but I was drawn there to view and feel the awe of the land. My family related no indication of this connection, though our Indian heritage was often discussed. My Grandmother Jernigan shared with us only the Cherokee connection to our family through the Vann family of the Carolinas and Georgia. John Guidy visited our home when I was a child, asking about Creek Indian connections. We sat at the old oak table, which now sits in my home, and she explained what she knew about our Indian connections, always asserting that our Indian lineage was Cherokee through Vashti Vann. She related to us Indian stories of long ago. Stories about the Red Headed Vashti Vann and her connections to Chiefs of the Cherokee Nation.
Now I come to the reason I have written you this somewhat emotional account. I had surmised before I knew from you, or knew at all, that Benjamin Jernigan had been at Florida Town. I had thought about this possibility. When you related to me all of the activities of Benjamin Jernigan, I was taken aback and amazed that I had been all around his pursuits all of my life and never knew it. After visiting, and being moved by Joseph Jefferson's grave site off Martin Road, I began trying to recollect a similar grave site I had seen and reported to my family when I was a child. The effort to recollect its' location was persistent in my consciousness. I had seen it somewhere off the beaten path in a wooded area. I could not remember the incident clear enough to remember the significance or the details. I just knew I had seen a burial site like this and tried to remember where it was, but I could not. The other night, however, as I lay in bed in light sleep, a moving vision came to me. I saw a headstone and on the headstone were names. The name in scripted at the top moved off the marker into a cloud and I could vaguely make it out. This experience triggered some of my memory and the next morning, I was able to recollect some of the vague memories.
When I went to Florida Town that day I mentioned to you, I had no thought about a particular cemetery. I just thought I would look in the nearest one. When I asked the older resident, they directed me to the site. I thought I had never seen it before. It was just a plot of bushes and trees sandwiched between two home sites. I asked the gentleman if anyone had any knowledge about the people who were buried there. He said some people that had first come there might, but he did not. I asked him if there were markers and headstones. He said yes, when he first came there. I asked him if he had read, or had any knowledge of what they said. He said no, he did not recollect anything that might have been written on them. I asked about steel fencing or steel posts and raised brick graves. He confirmed pieces of steel fence and steel markers or posts in the ground.
At first I was dumbfounded by this dream, where I had seen this headstone, and wondered how it could possibly be me that had seen it, but then as I began my morning activities that morning, ever dwelling on the things I had seen, it came to me. When I was a child of about ten years of age, my Presbyterian Bible School took us to Florida Town to swim in the pool which was there. As we played around the old hotel and dance hall, we were directed by some adults, I believe, to and old grave site that lay obscured in the woods. We walked up the road we came in on for a short distance, and then spread out over a wooded ridge looking for the site. The group I was with never found the site and decided to return back to the old hotel, but I persisted and continued to search the wooded ridge. I came upon a steel fenced enclosure. The steel fence is vague in my memory, but it seemed to rise eight feet or more in height, surrounding a small space that contained grave sites. As I remember, it seemed difficult to enter but I did gain access. In the grave site was a raised burial marker with a headstone honoring a person of Indian ancestry. I read the marker. Isn't this remarkable?! I wondered that day if anyone had possibly read a marker in the site when I talked to the gentleman I mentioned before, not knowing at the time that it was I myself! What a startling, emotional realization that was, striking me with deep feeling. As I try hard to recollect, I know it did not mention Jernigan, Vashti, Vanns or Cherokees. I reported this to my family when I returned and they indicated it was not of our ancestry because it was not Cherokee. My sister confirms this report to my family. She vaguely remembers the incident. She is six years my senior. But guess what fragments I have been able to draw from such a dim view of so long ago. It is this for sure: The name of a person without an obvious Indian name, recognized as the daughter of an Indian Chief of a tribe of Indians, not Cherokee. As for the names, they are not certain since I have been biased by reading some names recently in my searches. I must admit to that, but in my own mind, I am sure. What comes to my mind is, believe it or not, Mary King, Daughter of Chief Squirrel King. Squirrel King is not clear but seems to be this. Succobee is also vaguely recalled. I remember being amused by the name. A tribe is given which seems to be Chickasaw. When I read the tribe name, my memory recalls a vague reference in my mind to Mobile and the town of Chickasaw. A thought as to how this was the wrong direction for our Indian ancestry arose. This may be biased, but I don't think so. The person's name was triggered in the dream. I saw it there also. That is why I was perplexed. I recognized it. I really don't know. I don't know very much anyway. I do know of stories, old stories, some vague stories possibly meant to be forgotten, told by my grandmother of individuals caught in the cultural and political turmoil existing between the tribes of Indians in the area and the white man ever encroaching on their land; Of struggles between British, French, Colonists and Indians, Of Upper Creek and Lower Creek, Of Chickasaw and Choctaw, Of Shawnee and Cherokee, Of divided loyalties, Of breed and mixed breed, Of love and hate, Of power politics, greed and destroyed lives. Of promises and broken promises, Of consequence and loyalty. Stories of people being responsible for the knowledge Andrew Jackson and other white men had of Indian strongholds, and their banishment from the lands of their people. Banishment to lie, even in death, removed from the people of their heartbeat. "This is no Indian Cemetery", a man told a researcher. "Indians don't bury their people like this." "There are no Indians buried here." "Well then," the researcher said, "I don't need to look here." This Indian lying in this cemetery was buried honorably by a white man with no mention of Vann. I can, if no one else can, guess why. But it is just a guess. She could have been with her own daughter, but where is her daughter? And like I said, I don't know much, but I can attest to this though. My experiences over the years have been extraordinary, always feeling a spiritual connection but unable to distinctly describe it. It does not come from without, from the towns and villages, forests and fields though initiated by them. It comes from within because it has been written into our genome, if we could somehow understand that, written into the essence of our being, into the literal material of our physical selves, by the experiences of our ancestors who came before us.
Remember Mr. Mitchell, I have a B.S. Degree in Medical Technology, an M. ED. Degree in Educational Administration. I taught science thirty five good and successful years in the public school, and worked over forty eight years in hospital laboratories. I have tried to give back what I was given by these great families, our ancestors. I consider myself a person of science, but I know from experience that life is more than science can describe.
This cemetery needs to be preserved. I will do what I can.
Reverently Yours,
Duane Broxson

 The discovery of my own Native American heritage has given me a new perspective on history. I hope others who have ancestors who kept their heritage secret will now come forth and share their story with me. I hope to add those stories to my website so that others who wondered and could not find confirmation will do so there. There is an incomplete history of our country. The rest of the story is yet to be written. I hope to contribute to collecting those stories.

Southern Independent Booksellers Convention

This is the first time I saw my book in print!

It was amazing. I was like a pig in slop. Imagine! Books and booksellers, authors and publishers, publicists, book bloggers and Festival organizers, in addition to products sold in bookstores, all gathered in most exquisite hotel, the Waldorf Astoria in Naples, Florida. Every meal came with books. Free books. Placed directly into my eager arms by the publishers of those books. Then the authors who had written those books spoke at the event sponsored by those publishers.

I was already in hog heaven. Then they put my book into my hands. Hardback. With its own fantastic cover that is a real work of art. With that validation I could at last say, "I am a writer. An author."

I felt like Alice in Wonderland.

The Southern Independent Booksellers Convention was more than I could imagine. The adventure began auspiciously when I turned around at the check-in desk and spotted Janis Owens and Kathie Bennett (my publicist with Magic Time Literary Agency) sitting behind me. We had a few minutes to visit. Janis' book American Ghost is being published by Scribner and is a Book of the Month Club selection. She is now respected as one of the top tier of Southern writers. She and Michael Morris, another dear friend and fellow Alabaman, were to kick off the event as two of the three keynote speakers for the Friday Luncheon sponsored by Hachette Book Group. The other, Stephanie McAfee, author of Happily Ever Madder (New American Library) turned out to be as funny in person as her books are. Her first was the New York Times best seller, Diary of a Mad Fat Girl.

Janis, Kathie and I had a little time to catch up before a bus was to take us to visit the two Sunshine Booksellers stores on nearby Marco Island. The store is owned by a lovely couple with delightful British accents, Stuart and Theresa Unsworth, who hosted a wine and cheese party. While milling around waiting for the bus, my husband and I had the pleasure of making several new friends, Sami Lien, Lisa Pell and Susan May. Sami is the representative of JKL, the publicity firm that sponsored the delicious supper at a restaurant across the street from the Unsworth's bookstore! Lisa is the author of Who's Your Daddy, Baby? from Fairfax, Virginia, who reminded me so much of my Tri Delta sorority sister and roommate at the University of Alabama -Rondi Bates Turner- that we became instant friends. Rondi and Lisa are both in public relations and event planning in Washington. Lisa suggested that we do a tandem event somewhere in Fairfax, Virginia. I hope we can work that out!

Susan May is the new manager of Reed's Gum Tree Bookstore in Tupelo, Mississippi. She is one of us, girlfriends. All cotton and a yard wide as my mama used to say. Strange how you can make instant deep friendships when you meet some people. That girl has gorgeous blue eyes and a million dollar smile. But her favorite author is Jody Piccoult. She hasn't read my book yet.

We all returned quite happy on the bus and slept extremely well.

The next morning we spotted Michael Morris and his wife Melanie as soon as we got off he elevator. Michael's first book, A Place Called Wiregrass, brought him to Dothan to a Friends of the Library event several years ago. We are now planning his return to Dothan with the new book, Man in the Blue Moon. Michael continues to garner acclaim in literary circles for his rare talent as a story teller with an authentic southern voice.

Carla Cobia Conrad, a high school friend from Dothan who now lives near Naples, came and joined us for the author lunch where Michael and Janis spoke. Her visit made my day, needless to say. The books that came with lunch were a happy surprise and she went home with Janis' American Ghost, Michael's Man in the Blue Moon, and Stephanie's Happily Ever Madder. 

That afternoon I participated in a panel moderated by AGS Johnson, author of the award winning The Sausage Maker's Daughters. She was one of the most generous people I have ever met, giving the authors on the panel their best opportunity to shine. The others on the panel were Erika Marks (The Mermaid Collector, New American Library) and Adam English (The Saint Who Would Be Santa Claus: The True Life and Trials of Nicholas of Myra, Baylor University Press). I think the attendees enjoyed the panel. I know I did! Being invited to participate on the panel was quite an honor. And I enjoyed making a new friend in AJS Johnson when we lingered to visit after supper that evening. That Southern California girl claims to be a southerner and I will allow that she might truly have the makings. I think she will also join the Historical Novel Society and I will get to see her there at the convention next year.

We met booksellers from all over. My kind of folks. I was particularly glad to meet the folks from Bienville Books in Mobile because that is so near the site of the action in my novel, Swimming with Serpents. I know many in that area will find the genealogy in Swimming with Serpents interesting. Page and Pallette, a third generation family owned bookstore in Fairhope, Alabama, had three representatives at the convention. That's a place I am looking forward to visiting some time in the near future. I've got lots of Jernigan family and many friends living in the Mobile.

Kathie introduced me to the girls from Carrollton, Georgia, Dorothy Pitman who owns Hortons Books & Gifts, and Anita Buice who now has the most wonderful avocation as one of the premier book bloggers at http://www.anitabook.com/. She is also the founder of the Carrollton Pulpwood Queens Chapter which now has 52 members who wear tiaras for fun and meet monthly at each other’s homes to discuss  the selected book.  Kathy Patrick, the original Pulpwood Queen, holds court at her annual Girlfriend Weekend in Jefferson, Texas. An author invited to participate in that event feels like he/she is making a pilgrimage to the Court of True Readers where Kathy reigns as queen. Check it out: http://www.beautyandthebook.com/girlfriend-weekend.html. Now don't tell me that writers and readers don't know how to have a good time!

Judith Lafitte and her husband Tom Lowenburg are two of my favorite booksellers that I met at the convention. They renovated a 100 year old grocery store located in uptown New Orleans and turned it into an authors' favorite place to visit on a tour.  The hospitality at Octavia Books is renowned. Judith is a true descendant of Pierre Lafitte and she and I would LOVE to get a grant to do some research on those ancestors of hers. Pierre plays a role in the sequel to Swimming with Serpents, Nest of Vipers, so I was thrilled to talk with her. She is a friend I look forward to spending more time with. Google those two and see what fun they have at that bookstore!

Christina Verderosa of DeWitt, Arkansas won an author (Beth Webb Hart) at Game Night and shared her with Susan May, Lisa Pell, my husband and me. We all went for supper at Sea Salt Restaurant in Old Naples and enjoyed getting Beth to tell us about how she became a writer. Beth was one of those who actually studied writing. She entered the Literature and Creative Writing program at Hollins College because she "yearned to study with the very professors who had taught some of my favorite authors such as Lee Smith, Jill McCorkle and Annie Dillard." She then went on to receive her MFA at Sarah Lawrence College. That is an impressive resume for an impressive writer. 

I was intrigued with Christina's journey to DeWitt, Arkansas. Christina retired from the Navy and her husband decided he wanted to buy a newspaper. Since he had followed her for so many years, Christina decided it was his turn. The newspaper in DeWitt was for sale and they decided a bit of quiet would be a good thing. She had been a very successful manager at a chain bookstore and when she moved to DeWitt she decided to open her own store. Enterprise Books on Court Square in DeWitt was the result. 

The Luncheon on Saturday was the launch of a new publishing house, Jericho. Wendy Grisham, John Grisham's sister, editor of Jericho, served as emcee. The authors of the first three imprints of that new publishing house had the opportunity to speak. I was truly moved by all the authors, Justin Lee, author of Torn, Brian McLaren, Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Cross the Road? and Becca Stevens, author of Snake Oil.  I was particularly touched by Becca Stevens commitment to making a difference to abused women. Her voice and articulation makes the problem of abuse immediate and understandable. She touches the heart when she speaks. But she doesn't just talk. She has an answer for giving purpose to those who have unfortunately been considered unemployable that is creative and positive. Communities throughout the country are coming to her for direction in emulating her program. God bless her and her mission!

It was a pleasant surprise to find someone who actually had been to Dothan, Alabama! Dr. Susan Wegmann is one of the organizers of the University of Central Florida (UCF) Book Festival. This festival is only four years old and it is already a GREAT event for authors. Susan knows the Dothan area because her children live close by in Graceville, Florida. Perhaps we can meet for lunch someday when she comes to visit!

In addition to book store owners, authors and bloggers, I also met the charming radio host and author, Shelley Rushing Tomlinson of Lake Providence, Louisiana. Her radio show All Things Southern sounds like a great place for the webmaster for Southern-style to visit!

Thank you Board Members of SIBA Jamie Fiocco (Flyleaf Books, Chapel Hill, NC), Jill Hendrix (Fiction Addiction, Greenville, South Carolina), Jeff McCord (Bound to Be Read Books, Atlanta, Georgia), Kelly Justice (Fountain Bookstore, Richmond, Virginia), Tom Lowenburg (Octavia Books, New Orleans) for throwing a fantastic convention. Accolades go to Wanda Jewell and Nicki Leone for being the hands and brains behind the event. It looked like there was not a single hitch.

The Angst of Marketing and the Pleasure of Manners

Marketing a novel is much harder than writing it. You cannot hide behind the characters any more and must suck it up and step out front making yourself extremely vulnerable. Most writers that I know love people, have real affection and understanding for people, because one of the first attributes of a writer is creating characters readers like well enough to stick with to the end of the book. Great writers create characters we remember after we have read the last line and closed the book to go to sleep: Santiago in Earnest Hemingway's Old Man and the Sea, Jay Gatsby in F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, and the unforgettable Scarlet O'Hara, Rhett Butler and Mammy in Gone with the Wind, for example. But, creating characters on the page and interacting with them in person are two different things.

 And what if they don't like your book! Your baby! Your love child! You must now send it out into a world filled with critics. 

The Book Launch is an event filled with excitement, anticipation, and emotion. You have to have passion for the subject about which you write or you wouldn't spend the months alone with it that it takes to write it. You might compare the Book Launch to the trip to the hospital to give birth to that baby. Just like responses to a baby shower, folks have sent notes in response to the invitation http://www.punchbowl.com/parties/4704954-book-launch-for-swimming-with-serpents?7548379:

"CAN'T WAIT!!!!!" wrote friends from Anniston who are bringing friends with them.

"This is so exciting. I can hardly wait! Congrats." writes a TSUD professor friend who is bringing her husband as well.

"I definitely want an autographed copy," writes my cousin from Montgomery who plans to come. 

These folks certainly know how to make someone's day.

Another Facebook friend regretted by writing:  "Thank you for invite. Disability prevents many engagements. Will definitely get the book. Love north Florida history." What a gentlemanly regret. 

A friend from Australia wrote:  "As I live in Australia and have too many family responsibilities at the moment so am unable to travel to the USA for a book launch... But I wish
you all the best and will check it out further online as sounds like a fascinating title.

Hope your book launch is a great success."

What a sweetheart!

And then there are those that the Punchbowl people tell me have asked never to be contacted again. I have removed their email addresses from my Contact list and feel badly about cluttering their mailbox. 

I have learned something about net etiquette through this that I will write about on my Manners and Etiquette page on my website Southern-style.  Making the world a kinder, gentler, more uplifting place is such a simple thing. There's a ripple effect to good manners that spreads out into the whole wide world when someone makes us feel good about ourselves. It takes so little effort (sometimes the simple press of a button) to be kind. And that is what good manners is really all about, isn't it?