I lived in New York forever.
(At times it seemed longer).
Then we decided to move.
With my Yankee pedigree, I understood the vast differences
moving to Tennessee would involve. After all, as a young child, I yearned to
ride with the freedom riders. They lived in the South. Tennessee’s coordinates
placed it in the South.
As a hippie, I watched Easy
Rider.
Then I saw Deliverance.
Need I say more?
My writing friend Cathy became excited about my relocation.
She insisted I write a novel exploring the vast differences between the North
and the South. Her idea had merit.
Then I moved here.
My notions dissipated like the smoke from a barbeque or the
heat from freshly fried okra. The people here liked New Yorkers. No one called
me an intruder. They shopped at the same stores and attended churches similar
to my old one. They served on Habitat for Humanity or the Lions’ Club. They
wrote books, gardened and helped their neighbors. I visited schools as a clinical
supervisor and found progressive, dedicated teachers, and students who learned
advanced curriculum.
Except for the hill dialect, cornbread, no differences
existed. I had no story.
Still, Cathy nagged. “Write the book.”
While I ignored her command, I explored our area.
A quaint town with a horrid name lay a few miles to the
north of my new home. Friends took me to Stinking Creek, a quiet hamlet of
doublewides and stone houses. We drove down back roads where no homes existed
and the theme of my book took root.
Assumptions.They never tell
the truth.
With a theme established, my
story always develops.
A New York Yankee on
Stinking Creek depicts two women with diametrically opposed philosophies.
They are each other’s only neighbors and only help. One, an atheist abstract
artist is wrenched from Manhattan. The other, a staunch conservative, never
left Stinking Creek.
Both assume the worst of the other.
Seeing as we already asserted that assumptions lie, they
discover their errors in judgment.
Nothing’s as it seems on Stinking Creek.
And if we judge and never check the facts, we will live a
lie.
Jesus said, “Do not judge, and you will
not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you
will be forgiven...How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the
speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own
eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see
clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (Luke 6: 37, 42).
The little flaw we see in others reflects the huge one in our
lives. Let us be like my two characters and learn assumptions make fools of us.
NOTHING GOOD COMES FROM STINKING CREEK
Alone, again, after the death of her fiancé, abstract artist
Kiara Rafferty finds herself on Stinking Creek, Tennessee. She wants out of
this hillbilly backwater, where hicks speak an unknown language masquerading as
English. Isolated, if she doesn’t count
the snakes and termites infesting her cabin, only a one-way ticket home to
Manhattan would solve her problems.
Alone in a demanding crowd, Delia Mae McGuffrey lives for
God, her husband, her family, and the congregation of her husband’s church.
Stifled by rules, this pastor’s wife walks a fine line of perfection, trying to
please them all. Now an atheist Yankee, who moved in
across the road, needs her, too.
Two women.Two problems. Each holds the key to the other’s
freedom.
Author Carol McClain is an eclectic artist and author. Her
interests vary as much as the Tennessee weather—running, bassoons, jazz,
stained glass and, of course, writing. She’s a transplant from New York who now
lives in the hills of East Tennessee with her husband and overactive Springer
spaniel.
She is the president of ACFW Knoxville and the secretary of
the Authors’ Guild of Tennessee.
The world in East Tennessee intrigues her from the friendly
neighbors to the beautiful hiking trails and the myriad wildlife.
1 comment:
An interesting premise for a story. Thank you for sharing the background of it.
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