Stories from a life rooted in the past, still becoming.
Life. Longing. The space between illusion and reality.
The Sound of Rain on a Tin Roof
As I sit here on my front porch, listening to the gentle sound of a tropical evening rain, a distant childhood memory comes back around—summer afternoons in the care of my grandma Murphy… my great-grandmother,
As Long As Someone Remembers
As I rounded the first curve into downtown Atenas, the morning sun caught the white tile tombs of the municipal cemetery.
The Sound of Rain on a Tin Roof
As I sit here on my front porch, listening to the gentle sound of a tropical evening rain, a distant childhood memory comes back around—summer afternoons in the care of my grandma Murphy… my great-grandmother,
As Long As Someone Remembers
As I rounded the first curve into downtown Atenas, the morning sun caught the white tile tombs of the municipal cemetery.
We write to understand life. We share to remind each other that we're not the only ones figuring it out.
About the Cover Photograph
Pictured are my great-grandmother, Lilly Lee Ellis Hartley, and her daughter, my Aunt Betty-Jean, during a visit to New York.
In 1911, Grandma earned a Daughters of the American Revolution essay medal and a scholarship to Coker College for her writing. Her father gave her the typewriter pictured here as she prepared for school. A gifted storyteller, she began nearly every story with the words, “Years and years ago…” Those simple words became the doorway to another time, another place, and another generation.
The medal and typewriter were later entrusted to my mother, the oldest granddaughter, and eventually passed to me. Today, they serve as quiet reminders that every story we tell is part of a much longer conversation—and they inspired both the emblem and the spirit of Somewhere Between Here and Paradise.