the book

notes to you

While it is our preference that anyone who stumbles across this site or anyone who checks in here now and again or anyone who subscribes to updates would be able to just delve in and ‘go’, we admit that our writing set up might not really allow for that.

hey

Say what you will about Facebook – and I know most of what you’ll say is that’s it’s the end of civilisation – it has helped me maintain at least of semblance of interpersonal interaction over the last few years.

junk trunk

I found the letter in a trunk in the attic when I was cleaning out.

new year new you

November isn’t the worst month to be in south Alabama. It’s not hot, but there are still warm days, and there’s still a good bit of light. Certainly there’s a lot of light compared to north Wales, where Paul’s and my house, now only my house, was sitting waiting for someone to buy it.

real past

I define nostalgia as memories that aren’t true.

drunks

The first time Eddie got picked up by the cops, he was thirteen almost fourteen. It was the year I left for boarding school, right after I had left. Interestingly, neither of us had touched anything naughty the whole time we were younger. But, also rather interestingly, we both jumped off the high dive about the same time.

the war on drugs

Billy I didn’t get out do to a write of disobeying a direct order. Which was fabricated it hard to disobey when they yelling way across the parking lot. But its a long story I suppose to go back up in 90 days I hope they reinstate my parole then.

a letter from an alabama jail

I hope this letter find you in the best of health. I was so overwhelmed by your letter, because people that write really don’t have much to say, so that limit my words on what to say because of their short response. I decided to stay up, basically because I can’t sleep, for some reason, so I took this opportunity to write you back.

leaving

The first time I left Eddie was to go away to school.

white

Eddie and I spent a lot of time together when we were kids. But we spent a lot of time apart too. Like I said, once we started school, we were pretty much separate from 8am until 3pm. And, then, once LuLu finished work, she and Eddie would head back to her house on the other side of town.

the first time i got shot

I didn’t really go back to Lee much after I left for school. I had never felt like Judith much wanted me around, and it’s a long drive to Birmingham and back. Judith wasn’t going to do that and no one one from there was going to be headed toward Lee, so weekends were spent on campus.

what writer

Do you remember when you were a kid and people would ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up? Did you know? I never did.

i hate phones

“Bad news. Someone told on me about the phone.”

another letter from an alabama jail

“Let me tell you the insane part first. I’ve gotten out and find myself riding by myself and start thinking about prison, almost like I miss the place. Is that crazy or what? Also when things get hard for me, its like I remind myself how easy it is in prison. But this is not were I want to be.”

letters and stories and writing and books

I got your letters and I am doing good, like I always say I can’t complain.

worlds away

So. Hello, Eddie.

alabama soul food

I view the surrounds with mixed emotions. They are so, so familiar. And the ugliness of the land holds something of a beautiful nostalgia for me. Heading through the backwoods, over dirt roads, sitting on the armrest in the front seat between my grandparents. Going to see their brothers or sisters in dried up old wooden farmhouses, the farms long since gone. Swinging on wooden swings on slanted porches, swatting away flies, and watching the heat rise off the road. The stench of sweat, always, everywhere. Picking scuppernongs and popping them straight into my mouth. Fingers stained purple from blackberry juice. Homemade peach ice cream and my grandfather’s ‘funny’ coke that I was never supposed to drink.

the runner

I am a runner. Not a good runner. Or a fast runner. But a runner. I run for miles and miles. Often going nowhere at all.

y glaw (the rain)

It’s raining. It’s always raining.

rehab

Just as I would have loved to have told you that I walked away from my job and into the helping hands of the medical establishment, I would love to tell you that ‘rehab’ as we love to call it, was the answer I had been seeking.

swing low

“Mama Queenie, why do you always sing?”

jennifer

“Well what the fuck do you want me to say? For fuck’s sake, Jennifer, you’re getting a divorce. The world’s not coming to an end. I don’t see why you ever got married in the first place. But if you had to do it, you also had to know this was a possibility. What’s the statistic now – 45%, 50%? You’re a bright girl, didn’t you realise that? I thought you were a feminist anyway. . .”.

on travel alabama

I was ‘raised’ in Alabama. ‘Brought up’ there. Both of my parents were born and raised in Alabama – as were their parents. My parents, my siblings, and their families all live there.

how this works

If you have had a look through this site, you’ll probably have noticed a couple of things. . . . One, there’s what you might call a ‘random assortment’ of writing; two, we have an unconventional writing partnership.