My publisher wanted a few photos for the book, and since I happen to be related to three very good photographers who know how to make me look much better than I do in real life, I grabbed the first one I saw, which happened to be my husband, and we ran out the door. I promise you, I was having one of the most spectacular hair days ever, full of fluffy curls, and then, the first full day of summer humidity hit, and I looked like someone had dumped a bucket of warm water on my head.
But where to go? I needed a beautiful setting, but I also wanted a place that had a really “cool” factor. And then, it hit me. Our friend Rita lives in a charming cottage where Fannie Flagg just happened to (reportedly) write Fried Green Tomatoes! I know! I don’t believe in “vibes” or “good luck,” but let me tell you, to sit on that porch and do a little work where one of my all-time favorite writers worked? . . . Oh, lucky ducky stars! Woo-hoo! It has to be a good thing, don’t you think???
The current owners have done extensive remodeling to the old house, but the beautiful curved porches remain the same.
I have to say, “reportedly wrote” because no one knows for sure, but all the long-time neighbors claim that is just the way it happened. (and small-town neighbors know everything, honey). Fannie Flagg grew up down the road from us in Foley, and over the years has owned several houses and condos here in town. When she gets into a writing project, she always likes to get away from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles and settle into the sweet, slow (good) life of Alabama.
Once she sold her properties here, she would usually rent a place to stay while she wrote. This was the house she used for Fried Green Tomatoes. Can you say, “charming?”
A new kitchen was added over the years, in addition to a small swimming pool.
Even though the house is a small cottage, the party I attended had over 100 people and everyone had plenty of room. (hooray for a good porch!).
This is my new favorite spot in town. If I ever go missing, just look real good on this porch before you go lighting candles or anything.
When Fannie Flagg was here a few months ago, I mentioned I had recently been to this house and did she really write FGT here? It had honestly been so long, and there were so many different locations where she worked on different projects, she wasn’t really sure. I couldn’t remember the exact address, so that didn’t help.
The house is absolutely charming, and I would tell you it could be yours because it’s for sale, but I think it just sold the day we were there taking pictures! (Bob, did you surprise me? What a sweetie pie you are!). In addition to holding good memories about one of the best all-time selling books ever, this house also holds good memories of happy times for many who have called it home.
Well, my work on the book has hit a few snags I’ll tell you about another time, so I’ve been locked away rewriting like crazy. The main problem has been that both my publisher and editor don’t speak the same kind of Southern I do, so . . . we’ve needed a translator. I swanee!!! — and no, you may NOT change that to, “I declare!” that completely changes the meaning! Overall, I’m still on track to have my book out by November. I’ve already scheduled a few speaking engagements, so if you are interested in having me visit your club or church or monster truck show, let me know! Hahaha!
And now, I’m going to fly out to Los Angeles and sit on Fannie Flagg’s current porch and write. It’s got to help somehow. (“The Day Fannie Flagg threw me in Prison” will be a great story!).
Click HERE to read the story I wrote about Fannie Flagg dealing with her dyslexia.
And HERE is my story about the time Fannie Flagg called me!!! (and it wasn’t a wrong number)!!!
Help me vote – which photo do you like for the book? #1-standing with the flag, #2-on the porch, #3 sitting on the steps? I like #3 sitting on the steps, except my arms look like big hams. It’s like I’ve said before, women over a certain age have to be careful wearing strapless and sleeveless frocks. Oh dear, I broke my own rule. Where’s a good sweater when you need it?