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In the Path of th...
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In the Path of the Storms: Bayou La Batre, Coden, and the Alabama Coast
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In the Path of the Storms by Frye Gaillard
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The Great Santini by Pat Conroy
The Great Santini
by Pat Conroy
read in April, 2014
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Carmen Sisson wants to read 52 books in the 2014 Reading Challenge
She has read 1 book toward her goal of 52 books.
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Carmen Sisson is starting The Warmth of Other Suns: Working on work stuff. Not sure how this book slipped my radar.
The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration
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Mastering the Nikon D7000 by Darrell Young
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Nobody Turn Me Around by Charles Euchner
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Dixie by Curtis Wilkie
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How I Made $2,000,000 In The Stock Market by Nicolas Darvas
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The Dog Stars by Peter Heller
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More of Carmen's books…
“The mortality rate of literary friendships is high. Writers tend to be bad risks as friends ~ probably for much the same reasons that they are bad matrimonial risks. They expend the best parts of themselves in their work. Moreover, literary ambition has a way of turning into literary competition; if fame is the spur, envy may be a concomitant.”
Matthew J. Bruccoli

Pat Conroy
“You do not learn how to write novels in a writing program. You learn how by leading an interesting life. Open yourself up to all experience. Let life pour through you the way light pours through leaves.”
Pat Conroy, My Losing Season: A Memoir

Howard Bahr
“So the women would not forgive. Their passion remained intact, carefully guarded and nurtured by the bitter knowledge of all they had lost, of all that had been stolen from them. For generations they vilified the Yankee race so the thief would have a face, a name, a mysterious country into which he had withdrawn and from which he might venture again. They banded together into a militant freemasonry of remembering, and from that citadel held out against any suggestion that what they had suffered and lost might have been in vain. They created the Lost Cause, and consecrated that proud fiction with the blood of real men. To the Lost Cause they dedicated their own blood, their own lives, and to it they offered books, monographs, songs, acres and acres of bad poetry. They fashioned out of grief and loss an imaginary world in which every Southern church had stabled Yankee horses, every nick in Mama's furniture was made by Yankee spurs, every torn painting was the victim of Yankee sabre - a world in which paint did not stick to plaster walls because of the precious salt once hidden there; in which bloodstains could not be washed away and every other house had been a hospital.”
Howard Bahr, The Black Flower: A Novel of the Civil War

William Faulkner
“At night it is better still. I used to lie on the pallet in the hall waiting until I could hear them all asleep, so I could get up and go back to the bucket. It would be black, the shelf black, the still surface of the water a round orifice in nothingness, where before I stirred it awake with the dipper I could see maybe a star or two in the bucket, and maybe in the dipper a star or two before I drank. After that I was bigger, older.”
William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying

Amanda Kyle Williams
“You learn to forgive (the South) for its narrow mind and growing pains because it has a huge heart. You forgive the stifling summers because the spring is lush and pastel sprinkled, because winter is merciful and brief, because corn bread and sweet tea and fried chicken are every bit as vital to a Sunday as getting dressed up for church, and because any southerner worth their salt says please and thank you. It's soft air and summer vines, pine woods and fat homegrown tomatoes. It's pulling the fruit right off a peach tree and letting the juice run down your chin. It's a closeted and profound appreciation for our neighbors in Alabama who bear the brunt of the Bubba jokes. The South gets in your blood and nose and skin bone-deep. I am less a part of the South than it is part of me. It's a romantic notion, being overcome by geography. But we are all a little starry-eyed down here. We're Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara and Rosa Parks all at once.”
Amanda Kyle Williams

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