Nonfiction is the easiest type of writing for me. When I decided to write my first book I sat down in our little boat house overlooking Mill Creek and made a list of all the stories I had inside. 

Pye Dives for the Oarlock

Fishing with Mama

Daddy Blows up the Barge

Getting Chased by Toppins’ Hog

Jo Dolls

When I had a long list — about 25 stories — I started writing. Pretty soon I had a memoir that I named Pungo Creek.  I put the manuscript in a box and left it there because I knew in my heart that if any of my kin ever read the book that would be the end of me. They’d shoot me and, to add insult to injury, they wouldn’t even bury me in the family plot behind Sidney Freewill Baptist Church.

A couple of years ago I took that memoir out of the box and turned it into a work of fiction. Same stories, I just changed some names and told some lies.  The title stayed the same.

Didn’t someone say once that any story told twice is a fiction?


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