Getting Published Today: An Interview with Publisher, April Fields

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Getting Published Today: An Interview with Publisher, April Fields

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Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Old Christmas

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I am blessed to have grown up in a family that loved tradition, but didn’t mind being flexible when circumstances called for changes. Daddy worked shift work, so sometimes birthdays and even Thanksgiving dates were moved so he could be part of the festivities. Now that my children are grown, and even their children are grown, we gather at my house on Saturday after Thanksgiving Day. That allows my girls to have Thanksgiving at home or with their spouse’s families without them having to take turns or try to hectically fit it all in on one day. This year we are not even going to try to do the whole turkey dinner thing. The center piece of the menu will be my mama’s scalloped oysters. Julia will make them since she gets it closest to “right”. Mama didn’t have a recipe written down, so it is all by memory.   I am fixing a spiral cut ham and roasted veggies. I am cooking up some fresh pumpkin and haven’t decided what I’ll do with it yet. My daughter, Julia, says she is brin...
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Cemetery

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The Methodist Church had the oldest and biggest cemetery in town. Most of my ancestors are buried there, and one green parrot. The parrot belonged to my Aunt Gussie who lived to be ninety-nine, but the parrot out lived her by some years. When it died my grandfather sneaked in the night and buried it next to Aunt Gussie. The Methodist Church Cemetery was not a scary place. It surrounded the church, wrapping it around the back and both sides like the loving arms of Jesus. We children played there between Sunday School and Church, and I walked there with Mama while she pointed out various relatives’ graves, explaining they were not really there, but in heaven. We read the dates and epitaphs, picked violets and then walked back home. The cemetery was the best fun at the Annual Easter Egg Hunt the church sponsored on Easter Mondays, which is a holiday in North Carolina. All we children brought our baskets and dyed hard-boiled eggs. We turned the eggs over to the Sunday School teachers to hi...
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Life is a Train Wreck

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I hit a train broadside on the way to an Amway meeting. I saw the train, I hit the brakes, but it was too late. I remember the sound of the whistle, the feeling of flying through the air, and then nothing. And then I was conscious. Before the ambulance arrived a black lady crawled into the back seat, leaned over the seat and talked to me and prayed for me. I don’t know where she came from, but she stayed right with me until I was in the ambulance. I never found out who she was. I have sometimes wondered if she was an angel. The list of injuries included broken arm, broken ankle, broken ribs, cuts and bruises and a bruised kidney. After I was sewn and splinted up and in my hospital room I had the usual stream of visitors: family, neighbors and curiosity seekers. One visitor was the woman who’d recruited me into the “Amway family.” When I told her I was not going to sell their products anymore she left and I never saw her again. Today I do not remember her name. Anothe...
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