Karen Dodd 

My Daddy never locked his car door, much less removed his keys from the ignition when he drove downtown. His word was as good as a fancy written contract. Mama made all our clothes and cooked for whomever was grieving or needed a meal. We went to church on Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday evenings. That's why stores and businesses closed early on Wednesdays - so we could have a meal before we went to church. We flounder gigged in wet jeans and old tennis shoes at night carrying a kerosene latern. I knew how to bait a hook and gut a fish before I knew how to conjugate a verb. I read everything I could get my hands on, riding my bicycle to the library during the summer months. We also threw a blanket on the clothesline to make a tent and used the same clothesline to hold the garden hose that sprayed us in the summer time. I started writing in the eigth grae and was published "for money" forty-one years later. My essays have been in literary and travel magazines and my four books enjoy a pleasant readership in the South, especially coastal regions. I guess you could say I write about, "Faith, family, feel good stories with a flavor of salt air" Check out my website - www.geocities.com/kedodd2/index.html
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