NEW GROWTH . . . COMMENTS

Did you feel the music all up in that piece? *(see previous post below)* I'm still not sure what inspired those particular characters. I just sat down one day and they appeared--fully formed and ready to cut up and act a fool.

Interestingly enough, there are folks in Memphis who still ask about Jackie Ann. "What's Jackie been up to? When are you going to write about Jackie Ann again? What's been going on with her hair these days?"

After eyeballing the questioner in a right peculiar fashion, my standard response has been something along the lines of, "Now, you do know Jackie Ann is a figment of my imagination, don't you? (LOL)

If you don't mind, I think I'll stay on the topic of hair for a minute. Stay tuned for my (totally off the wall) list of the top ten best 'fros, worst 'fros and brothers who need to let the the perm go (smile).

BACK-TRACKING TUESDAY . . . A TASTE OF "NEW GROWTH"

The following is an excerpt from my very first published short story. "New Growth" debuted in the November 1990 issue of Memphis Magazine. Not to brag, but it also placed first in that year's Memphis Magazine's Fiction Award Contest. It's a fun, playful piece with more than a few serious undertones. Most of my work is like that, I think . . .

New Growth

by Lori D. Johnson

(an excerpt from a story first published in the November 1990 issue of Memphis Magazine)

Jackie Ann was a pretty little brown-skinned girl, who at the drop of the right down-beat could dance herself into a righteous frenzy. But these were facts that went unrecognized for their merit in her family. Whenever the spotlight turned to her, it seemed to focus on only one feature--her hair. It was always the hair, one and a half inches long and orange in some places, that pushed the reluctant Jackie Ann onto center stage.

From Tika and Shante, her long-haired half-sisters (half-monsters according to Jackie Ann), came the chant: "Short and nappy! Short and nappy! Ain't gone ever make no man happy!"

From her cigar-smoking, loud-talking Uncle Jake: "The girl sho' nuff got it honest though. All them folk on her mama's side of the family got that bad-ass hair."

From Charles, her father, a genuinely sympathetic but pretty much misguided soul: "Don't worry 'bout it, baby. When you get old enough, Daddy gone buy you a hair weave."

From Barbara Jean, her stepmother, who took everything to the most serious extreme: "Hair weave, my behind! You know how much those things cost! Humpf, if it was left up to me, I'd shave all that mess off and get her fitted for a wig."

And finally from Rose, Jackie Ann's grandmother, and the woman the family affectionately referred to as "M'Deah,' a tender-hearted: "Lawd, chile, what are we gonna do 'bout your head?"

What were they going to do about her head? A better question might have been--what hadn't they done to her head? It had been hot-combed, jheri-curled, permed, and cold-waved into a state of exhaustion. But still it remained defiant, steadfastly refusing to give in to their demands for luster and growth. Instead, it split at the ends, came out in patches, and turned orange from the unmerciful chemical warfare that had been launched against it.

Except for the vehement "No, don't cut it!" that accompanied the sight, sound or mention of scissors, Jackie Ann chose to endure both humiliation and mutilation in silence. A passive stance it was, but one frequently subject to betrayal by her body, which spoke eloquently in the language of dance. Her musically inspired performances, marked by fits of jerking, twisting, jumping, sliding, humping, and whirling 'round and 'round until she was drunk with motion and high on movement, led her puzzled kin to believe the child was truly crazy.

SUNDAY BEST . . . Something Within.com. for thinking women of faith

is the title of Dr. Renita Weems's e-journal. For those of you who don't know, Dr. Weems is a writer, a speaker, a scholar and an elder in the African Methodist Episcopal Church.

I've had the pleasure of reading several of Dr. Weem's books Listening for God: A Minister's Journey Through Silence and Doubt (2000) I Asked For Intimacy (1993) and Just A Sister Away (1987).

The book that initially stirred my interest in her work, Just A Sister Away, is one I stumbled upon while in the library, doing research on some totally unrelated topic. Prior to reading the book, I'd pretty much written off a couple of the women in my family. As far as I was concerned, these particular women were just some mean ole heifers and I wanted little to do with them. But after reading Just A Sister Away, my whole perspective changed and I started viewing those same women in a more compassionate light. I started seeing them as women who had been hurt and scarred and whose negativity towards me reflected their own inner pain. Rather than wish they'd change, I began to change my own behavior and how I chose to interact with them. The change (the one I made) not only improved my relationships with these women, but made me a better person as well.

I strongly encourage you to check out Renita Weem's site for yourself. http://www.somethingwithin.com/

Even if you're not a woman of faith, I'm fairly certain you'll find some bit of wisdom or insight that resonates within you. Below you'll find a link to an achieved piece by Dr. Weem's entitled "Trust Your Passion."

http://www.somethingwithin.com/archive-trustyourpassion.htm

In the piece Dr. Weem's mentions, among other things, a saying, "religion is not to be believed, it is to be danced." Her corresponding statement to which is, "Who wants to serve a God that doesn't make you want to dance from time to time?" Frankly, I couldn't agree more (smile).

I'd like to thank AD for sharing the link to Renita Weem's work with me. If you know of any similarly inspirational and/or encouraging websites feel free to email me the links. I'll try to share as many as I can in the SUNDAY BEST portion of the OS mix.

So, shall we, as my friend MR recently put it, "Let the dancing begin?" Stay tuned in the coming days for more dancing in the form of an excerpt from my short story "New Growth."

AFTER THE DANCE . . .

Q: Isn't that the title of a song? A: Yes, a Marvin Gaye tune. It first appeared on his I Want You album back in 1976.

Q: That's also the title of your novel? A: Yes . . . unless, of course, my editor suggests otherwise.

Q: What kind of story is it? A: I guess you could call it a romantic comedy, of sorts.

Sorry folks. Until Ms. Agent gives me the "go ahead," I'm really not at liberty (in this particular forum) to say more than that. As soon as all of the paperwork has been Signed, Sealed and Delivered (Stevie Wonder, 1970), I will happily disclose all of the important details (like the name of the publisher, the publication date, etc) as well as reveal a bit more about the story, the characters and the plot.

Until then, I'd like to invite you to take a look at how I think AFTER THE DANCE differs from some of the other "urban" romances/love stories currently on the market.

What AFTER THE DANCE does not contain:

1) Folks getting shot, killed, kidnapped or sexually assaulted

2) Cars, clothes or homes getting burned up

3) Dope smoking, sniffing, stealing or dealing

4) Triple X-rated sex

5) Excessive profanity

6) Name dropping of designer clothes, cars, shoes, bags, etc.

7) Brothers going to jail

8) Sisters getting beat-down or smacked around

9) W/Folks as villians or saviors

10) B/Folks as simpletons or saints

What AFTER THE DANCE does contain:

1) A father who openly demonstrates his love for his children

2) Ex-spouses who make a genuine effort to get along

3) B/Folks struggling to do better

4) Strong father/daughter relationships

5) Expressions of tenderness between a B/man & a B/woman

6) B/women behaving civilly towards one another

7) A number of old school musical references

8) Young people showing respect for their elders

9) A convergence of the urban South & the rural South

10) Modern day examples of B/Southern etiquette

Uh-huh, I know what you're thinking: "What?! No, triple X-rated sex? Nobody getting "stabbed, shot, kilt or hurt" (Arrested Development's "People Everday" 1992 )? Not so much as even one sister catching a beat down? Dag, girl, I thought you said you were a sister who wanted to be read?"

Yes, I did say that. Didn't I? (LOL)

COMMENTS . . . ANYONE . . .

Hey, thanks for all of the nice emails. Understandably, quite a few of the comments have been about the picture--most of them complimentary (thank you very much). Still not so sure what to make of the "You sure WERE cute," (as in once upon a time, a heck of a long time ago) comments. LOL!

Anyway . . . One of my Cleveland pals, SP, has kindly offered to smooth the creases out of the picture for me. So, don't be surprised if it reappears at some point looking all new and improved (Thanks again, SP).

Another sisterfriend, AD from Memphis, sent me a cool, inspirational link that I may very well share in the coming weeks.

My ATL-based bud, YN, who has known me since our grad school days at the U of M (called Memphis State, back then) and who accompanied me on at least one of the 5 or 6 times I went to see the COLOR PURPLE upon its release umpteen some years ago, emailed to express her complete surprise at my mention of TO SLEEP WITH ANGER on my list of movie favorites. Turns out it's one of her all-time favs too. Hmmm. I'm thinking one of us just might be in the beginning stages of Old-Timer's disease 'cause I could almost swear we talked about that once . . .

MR, my "go-to-guy" in Memphis emailed me wanting to know what was up with me describing myself as "shy" and "innocent." He obviously doesn't see me as either. LOL. All right MR! Don't let me have to break out some T.I. on you. How's that one verse go? "When you see me in the street shorty, you don't know me!" (Well, at least that's how the cleaned-up version goes, anyway) Of course, when MR reads this he's going to be like, "Huh?" Being that he's even more "Old School" than myself, I'm not so sure he knows T.I. from the FBI. But that's all right. He knows I don't have nothin' but love for him.

Need I say the preceding sentiment is one that goes ten-fold for AL, who apparently was the only somebody brave enough to step forward with a public comment (appreciate ya Sweetie).

Seriously y'all, it is my sincere hope that over time the OS Mix will evolve into more of a dialogue. What I'm striving for is an on-going exchange of ideas and comments. In other words, don't y'all have me up in here talking to myself, like somebody crazy! I'm saying, if nothing else, grant a sister a public, "Amen" every once in a while. All right?

PICTURE PERFECT . . .

See that black & white picture in the corner? It's one of my favorite photographs of "me." According to Mom, the snapshot was taken at Scott AFB in Illinois, where Dad was stationed at the time. Furthermore, Mom states that I am somewhere between the ages of 2-3 in the caputured image and the hooded coat I'm wearing is pink with white trim (Yep, leave it to Mom to remember all of the pertinent fashion details).

I think I like this picture because I can readily see so much of the "core" me in it--the shy me, the innocent me and even the mischievous me. Best of all though, this snapshot grants me an unobstructed view of the quick to laugh and smile little girl that most days I still am--behind the adult facade. The picture is one I used to keep in my wallet until the day a friend shamed me out of the habit. "How many people do you know, who actually walk around with a picture of themselves?" is pretty much what she hurled at me. Not wanting to be thought of as vain or in anyway self-absorbed, I shoved the photo into the back corner of a drawer and all but forgot about it, until just recently. I suppose I've FINALLY reached that point in life where I honestly DON'T CARE what other folks think when it comes to CERTAIN things. I mean, come on y'all, ain't like it's some totally unflattering photo of me caught in some compromising position (like say, a snapshot of me sitting up somewhere slanty-eyed drunk and dressed like a hoochie mama or else one of me all snuggled up next to somebody else's husband or, God-forbid, one of me swinging around a pole in some fool's shake 'em up joint). No, Mom, I don't actually own any pictures like the aforementioned. I'm just saying . . . Anyway, this is indeed, a new day. Later for letting folks (whether friends, foes or family members) push their self-esteem issues off on me (smile). Besides, if showcasing one's babygirl picture is good enough for the likes of -- Jill Scott http://www.jillscott.com/ and

Nichelle Tramble http://www.nichelletramble.com/biography.htm

(Thanks for the inspiration, ladies!)

Hey, it's durn sure good enough for me. Nuff said? All right then.

INTRO . . .

At the end of the day, I'm just a sister who writes and who wants to be read. I am also proud to announce the pending publication of my very first novel--

AFTER THE DANCE

(stay tuned for details)

WHAT IS "OLD SCHOOL?"

I was born in the 60's. Need I say more?

WHAT IS LORI'S OLD SCHOOL MIX?

I intend for the Old School Mix to be a hodge-podge of commentary, information, trivia, interviews, links and reviews. The OS Mix will cover a wide array of topics--music, literature, history, art, pop culture and social issues to name a few. Every now and then the Mix will rock hard and serious, but on most days it will swing toward the light-hearted and fun. If at any time you feel like adding your voice to the Mix, please, don't hesitate. Your comments, feedback, opinions and suggests are always welcome.

ABOUT MY WORK

My work is heavily influenced by music. I grew up listening to my mother's Aretha Franklin and Al Green, my father's Miles and Coltrane as well as the James Brown, Johnny Taylor, B.B. King and Bobby Blue Bland that typically greeted my ears in the dark North Memphis cafes, grills and smoke-filled lounges that kept one of my grandmothers gainfully employed.

Perhaps that is why, for me, beneath the words there is always music--whether a throb, a hum, a quiet melody or a rhythmic beat. In a sense, my approach to writing is all about chasing the music. I know if I'm able to string together the "right" combination of words, I'll find it. I know once I've found it, I can make the piece sing.