When Mama and I went back-to-school clothes shopping at Kmart, there was everything: thrills, extreme danger, catfights, and con games.

I turned 55, and something strange happened. Suddenly 50-year-olds were saying “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” to me. The people in the TV ads for geriatric drugs and step-in tubs were looking like me. I started mocking millennials and...well, you'll just have to listen.

Researchers have found that the Georgia version of the Southern accent is fading away. Resist, I say. RESIST!

I know you should let the wild things be wild. But when a hugely pregnant cat is yowling for food at your front door...

That time I was summoned to Nashville to write a tell-all about a country music legend. Shortly after, I was approached to pen a true crime book about the murder of a bar owner. Two books that were not mine to write.

Within a week of publication of my memoir, the first stalker appeared. Two more would follow. I never dreamt one of them would sneak into my home.

In a gritty Savannah neigborhood, the Rutabaga Woman shines a light and brings water to the thirsty.

A writing life is nurtured in beautiful, decadent, messy Savannah.