Author: Lauren

  • The Night Macy Gets Engaged

    The Night Macy Gets Engaged

    Editor’s note – this is one of the first stories in the Pretty Southern series.

    Macy suspected something was up when Campbell took a last-minute trip to Atlanta.

    When Campbell texted her, “Hey baby, gotta go to ATL today. Be back tonight,” Macy thought perhaps this was something to do with his father, Bill Brayden, the Governor of Georgia. She never thought Campbell was going home to collect his grandmother’s diamond ring he’d had reset, and that he’d already asked her daddy, Randy, for his permission. No, Macy never thought Campbell would propose on the anniversary of their first date. Those who are planning to pop the question may visit a jewelry shop to find the perfect 7 Carat Asscher Cut Diamond Engagement Ring for your partner

    Granted Campbell had asked Macy to move in with him after only six months of dating but that was out of sheer practicality. Macy was spending every night at Campbell’s condo. She didn’t want to keep asking her daddy for help with rent on an apartment she wasn’t using. Macy was also getting tired of taking a ‘shack sack’ with her on the subway. It was enough that she had to haul her stuff from Brooklyn to Radio City for her performances with the Rockettes, let alone her clothes, makeup, and anything she’d need for the next day after ‘shacking’ with Campbell.

    When Campbell asked her to move in and Macy told her mama, Caroline, her mother said, “He’s never going to marry you.” She heard the same thing from her best friend back home, Shannon, but what did she know? Shannon was only twenty-four and already getting divorced. But now, looking at this sparkling three-carat diamond with loose aquamarine gemstones Australia on her finger, Macy couldn’t wait to tell everyone how wrong they were. She was still on an adrenaline rush when she called Mama and Daddy to tell them the good news. Macy didn’t think to tell her mama, “See, he did propose!” Fools they were to ever doubt Macy Bonaventure Cunningham.

    It was just after midnight and Macy was too excited to sleep. Her fiancé was snoring naked beside her. Campbell’s head was tilted up on the pillows, his jaw hanging open, as it did when he was drunk. They had popped a bottle of champagne before going to dinner where they had another bottle of red wine then came home to ‘officially celebrate’ their engagement. Campbell immediately passed out after but Macy was wide awake, conscious of the large diamond’s presence on her hand.

    Macy slid as softly possible out of bed. Naked, she grabbed one of Campbell’s old fraternity t-shirts sitting on top of the dresser, then tiptoed across the hardwood floor. She thought back to her childhood ballet class when the instructor taught her how to “walk lightly on the balls of your feet, up to your toes” preparing her to go on pointe. She crept across the condo to the kitchen where her cell phone was charging. The small Christmas tree they’d decorated with bright colored bulbs was a merry night light reflecting in the plate glass mirror looking out over lower Manhattan. Macy’s blonde hair, tousled from rolling around in bed, shone in the reflection. She drew closer to see her green eyes, her mama’s, peering back at her.

    She’d called Mama and Daddy as soon as possible after Campbell got down on one knee. Her little sister, Grace, was at home so she got to hear all the good news when Daddy put Macy on the speakerphone. But Macy hadn’t talked to her middle sister, Kate, yet. She knew Mama was going to make Kate be Macy’s maid-of-honor so she had to call her. Macy scrolled through her phone to her sister’s number, thinking back to the last time she talked to her the week before at Thanksgiving. The phone rang twice before Kate answered.

    “Hello there.”
    “You up? Did I wake you?”
    “I’m up. I was studying.”
    “On a Saturday night?”
    “LSAT is next week,” Kate said. “I hear you’re engaged.”
    “I am,” Macy smiled, looking down at her diamond. “Did Mama already call?”
    “Yeah, Mom called. Dad, too. They love that speakerphone but they really need to learn how to use it. Mom kept cutting in and out walking across the kitchen.”

    Macy giggled. She could visualize Kate holed up in her apartment near Piedmont Park. It was early December, which meant it was perfect weather for bar-hopping in Atlanta. Kate lived with their cousin, Autumn, within walking distance of the fun bars and restaurants in the tree-lined Virginia-Highlands neighborhood. But Kate and Autumn never went out like most college kids. Macy thought they were missing out, and at that moment she realized how much she missed that crisp late-fall air hinting at a mild, southern winter. Outside, it was a gray and rainy night in New York. Even the city’s lights had a gloomy haze from the fog.

    “So have you already started planning the wedding?” Kate asked.
    “Sort of. I had always thought about getting married down at St. Simons, but I haven’t brought it up to Mama and Daddy.”
    “I’m sure Dad would be down for having it at the beach house. He loves that place. But what about the Governor and Mrs. Brayden? Wouldn’t they want a big Atlanta wedding?”
    “I mean, St. Simons is still in Georgia and he is the governor of the whole state. Maybe we could do an engagement party in Atlanta,” Macy thought aloud. “But I do know one thing, I’d like for you to be my maid of honor.”
    “Really? I thought you’d ask Shannon.”
    “Of course not! You’re my sister. Plus, Shannon is going through her separation with Trent so I didn’t want to put this on her.”
    “So you’ll bestow the honor on me.”
    “Oh, it’s going to be fun,” Macy said, twirling her ring. “All you’ll really be responsible for is planning the bachelorette party, which I already know I want to do in New Orleans, but we’re not staying at Grand-Mère’s. Then at the wedding, you’ll have to do a toast, short and sweet. No big deal.”
    “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out,” Kate said.

    Macy could hear her sarcasm on the other end of the phone. After more than twenty years of spats, the sisters knew which buttons to push to send one of them over the edge. Tonight was too happy a night to end with an argument.

    “I’ll keep you posted as plans really start coming together,” Macy said. “I’m so happy, Kate.”
    “Then I’m happy for you.”
    “Does Autumn know the news?”
    “Yeah, she was here when Mom called. We actually knew right after Thanksgiving when Campbell called to ask if he could come to see Dad. Mom called us right after to say he was going to propose.”
    “He told me all about that tonight. I had no idea what he was planning this whole time.”
    “Guess he’s a sneaky one.”
    Macy could almost hear her sister suppressing a smirk. She knew how much Kate disagreed with Governor Brayden’s politics.
    “I don’t know about that,” Macy said. “Surely the stress wore him out. Unfortunately we did not have HCC gummies at that time. ”
    “That’s why you’re talking so softly. Well, I better get back to studying anyways.”
    “Ok, talk soon. Bye, sister.”
    “Bye. And congrats.” Kate clicked off the line.

    Macy sighed. That went about as well as she could have expected. But she was still too excited to sleep and Campbell was really sawing logs in their bedroom. It was too late to call Grand-Mère who had probably been asleep for hours. Macy thought about calling her Uncle Charley, her daddy’s brother, and Autumn’s dad, but Charley would be at Spirit of Choice (his bar and restaurant) since it was a Saturday night.

    And here Macy was, a New York City Rockette, in the city that never sleeps with a passed-out fiancé. For a moment, her mind flashed back to her college days when she would be out with her sorority sisters until the bars shut down at two a.m. As much fun as those days were, she would much rather be here with Campbell than in a dark bar somewhere.

    She sought out the silhouette of the Brooklyn Bridge. Macy thought about Laurel — her sorority sister and roommate she ditched to move in with Campbell. She was out there somewhere across the river. Their sorority sisters back in Atlanta — Jordanne, Bridget, and Madison — would be out and about in Buckhead. Macy’s best friend Shannon, her oldest friend and also in their sorority, had gone to live with her grandmother in North Carolina to get away from all the drama with the divorce. Macy wanted to call all her friends before putting the news on Facebook. Campbell had asked her to wait as part of a coordinated media effort. The son of Georgia’s governor getting engaged to the former Miss Georgia was PR gold. Their family and close friends would all find out before it hit the newspapers on Monday.

    Macy decided she’d go ahead and text all her girls at once. She held out her hand with the Christmas tree in the background and snapped a picture of her ring. Thank God she’d gotten a manicure when Campbell was away. Her French-tipped fingers were camera-ready. She typed in “Guess who is going to be the future Mrs. Brayden!” then pulled up the message thread with Shannon, Jordanne, Laurel, Bridget, and Madison, and hit send.

    The first text back was in a hot second from Jordanne: “Yes!!! Congratulations!!!”
    Madison followed, “OMG! That ring!!! You go girl.”
    Bridget fired back, “Wowza!!!!! Yeah Macy!!! We’re so happy for you!”
    Macy smiled texting, “Y’all are the best 🙂 Thank you so much!”
    Then Laurel popped up, “CONGRATS! I wanna see you and this ring in person. Brunch tomorrow?”
    “I don’t know…” Macy typed. “I’ve got to ask my FIANCE!!!!!”

    This exchange happened for a few more minutes and Macy was beaming the whole time. Everyone replied back except Shannon. Macy would call her tomorrow, along with the rest of her relatives and friends. She heard Campbell rustling the covers in their room.

    “Baby? You okay?”
    “Mm-hmm,” she cooed back. Macy put her phone back in its charger, making her way back to bed where she slid in next to Campbell. “I was just texting my girls the good news.”
    “Did you tell them not to say anything yet?” He muffled. Even in his sleep, Campbell was playing the politician.
    “Oh, they know honey, no worries.” Macy rubbed his back. “Go back to sleep. I love you.”
    “Love you,” Campbell sighed.

    He rolled over so she could snuggle in beside him. Macy rested her head on Campbell’s shoulder, putting her left hand on his chest to gaze at her ring. He started snoring again softly, his gut rising and falling.

    “Maybe he’ll get that in shape for the wedding,” Macy thought to herself. She moved her hand over to his shoulder, down his bicep, feeling the hint of muscles along the way. If he’d hit the gym a few more times a week before the wedding, he’d look great with his shirt off for honeymoon photos. But which beach should they go to? Somewhere in the Caribbean? Bermuda? Macy finally drifted off to sleep running through lists of islands in her head.

    To be continued. Let us know your thoughts in the comments section below.

  • Meet The Cunninghams – Pretty Southern Character Guide

    Meet The Cunninghams – Pretty Southern Character Guide

    The Pretty Southern world revolves around the Cunningham family.

    While our tale begins with Macy Cunningham’s engagement to Campbell Brayden, each of the characters has his/her own story to tell.

    The characters you see listed below will have their sections updated with links as we continue on this journey. We’ll also update this guide with more characters along the way.

    Editor’s Note — In the full Pretty Southern wedding story, the reader actually sees most of the wedding from the perspective of Grace (Macy’s youngest sister). I chose Grace as my heroine for the novel series because she’s young, naive, and literally sees her world turned upside down later in the saga.

    Here is a high-level introduction to the five essential characters you’ll follow along in the Pretty Southern stories: the Cunningham family.

    Vivienne ‘Grace’ Cunningham

    Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived in Atlanta. She had bright blue eyes, curly auburn hair, and a face full of freckles like her daddy, with high cheekbones and pouty lips she got from her mama. Her name was Vivienne Grace Cunningham but everyone called her Grace. Vivienne was her great grandmother’s name.

    Grace lived in a big house in Buckhead, Atlanta’s most affluent neighborhood. She was blessed to have a beautiful family: her mama, Caroline, daddy, Randy, and her two older sisters, Macy and Kate. Macy, her oldest sister, is about to get married to Campbell Boyd Brayden, the Governor of Georgia’s son. Kate, the middle Cunningham sister, is heading off to Yale Law school this fall. Grace is only seventeen (about to turn eighteen) and also going off to college at UGA, just a few weeks after Macy and Campbell’s wedding.

    While Grace had been to a few weddings in her life, she’s so excited to be in her big sister’s wedding because she’ll get to be a bridesmaid for the first time. Also, the love of Grace’s life, Wesley Wade Roberts, is attending the wedding. Wesley is one of four sons belonging to Trey Roberts and his wife, Birdie (Grace’s mama Caroline’s best friend). Grace has been infatuated with Wesley for years, and now that she was almost eighteen, she was ready to do something about it.

    Little did Grace know that her entire world was about to change.

    In the weeks leading up to Macy and Campbell’s wedding, Grace had been through some big life moments. She’d won Miss Magnolia, her high school’s beauty pageant then graduated from Magnolia Academy. Grace also attended her sister Kate’s graduation from Tech. Between those events–plus Macy’s bridal shower at the Peach House, her bachelorette party in New Orleans, and everyone stressing about the wedding–Grace never could have guessed her family was about to lose everything.

    Macy Bonaventure Cunningham

    For Macy’s entire life, she’d been told she was pretty. From her mama, Caroline and her French heritage, Macy had blonde hair, bright green eyes, and striking features. From her daddy, Randy, she got her height. At five-foot-eight, she was too short to be a model, but Macy’s long limbs and lean frame made her figure perfect for dancing. Macy started ballet when she was only three years old, a welcome distraction from her baby sister, Kate. Macy was on pointe by the age of nine. She took dance classes four days a week including jazz, tap, and other styles. As much as she loved to dance, Macy really loved to be the center of attention.

    Her grandmother, Grand-Mère, called all three of her granddaughters “mes petites”. For Macy, she reserved a special nickname “ma petite prima ballerina”.

    When Macy wasn’t dancing her way throughout her childhood, she’d spend time with her best friend, Shannon. The girls all attended Magnolia Academy. In their junior year of high school, Shannon encouraged Macy to try out for their school’s beauty pageant, the title of Miss Magnolia. Macy won Miss Magnolia, then went on to be the runner-up at the Miss Junior Georgia pageant. It was at the Miss Junior pageant where Macy became friends with Jordanne.

    Macy, Shannon, and Jordanne all went off to UGA together, pledged the same sorority and became best friends with their ‘sisters’ Laurel, Madison and Bridget. In college, although Macy was busy with school, her sorority, and (of course) partying, Macy kept dancing. She tried out and won Miss UGA. She went on to become Miss Georgia, and then on to the national pageant where she didn’t even place. Macy hated losing at the top level.

    After her graduation from college, Macy moved to New York City with her sorority sister, Laurel. Macy became a Rockette. It was after a show one night when she was at a bar with Laurel that she recognized a handsome young man, Campbell Boyd Brayden, the good-looking son of Governor Bill Brayden and the first lady, Amelia Boyd, Georgia’s political powerhouse. The Braydens and Boyds were dynastic old Southern families, predating Civil War, and the whole Boyd-Brayden family had been featured in the marketing for Governor Brayden’s election campaigns.

    Macy played it cool that night she met Campbell. They started dating, and soon she had Campbell wrapped around her finger. He proposed the day after their one-year anniversary. They began planning a wedding with five hundred guests at the Cunningham family beach house on St. Simons Island. Now, Macy is about to marry into the Governor’s family.

    Georgia Katharine (‘Kate’) Cunningham

    Kate was born with entirely too much gumption. She was so independent that from the day she was born, when she was lying in her hospital crib in the nursery, and her father, Randy, was trying to capture her first moments of like on his VCR camcorder. He cooed “Georgia, Georgia, look over here.” With no luck, he sighed “Come on Georgia Katharine, Katharine,” then finally “Kate!” (his mother’s name) and at that Kate rolled over and smiled at her father. Randy went back to Caroline, his wife and shared this story, From then on out, she was Kate.

    In elementary school, Kate was the smartest student in her class. She even skipped the second grade. Kate could have skipped another grade but that would have put her in the same class as Macy, and that would have really pissed Macy off. The girls were so competitive. Kate and Macy even looked similar with the same light blonde hair, but Kate had blue eyes like her dad and little sister, Grace.

    Although Kate was pretty like her sisters, she never pursued dancing, boys, or pageantry. She had bigger concerns in her world. As a little girl, she grew up watching Captain Planet. Kate’s wardrobe consisted of ‘Save the Whales’ and ‘Save the Rainforest’ t-shirts. Her Uncle Charley nicknames her ‘The Li’l Liberal’ when she was nine years old.

    Kate graduated as salutatorian from Magnolia Academy. She went on to Georgia Tech where she majored in biology and environmental science. Kate lived with her cousin, Autumn, all four years of college, first in a dorm, then an apartment by Piedmont Park. Kate and Autumn also studied abroad together at Oxford University in England.

    Her mission in life is to protect the planet and to become an environmental criminologist. She wants to go to law school. While Kate is studying one night, her mom calls to tell her Macy is dating the governor’s son and she thinks “this is the one.” They get engaged, so when it’s time for Kate to focus on the LSAT, she’s also dealing with her bridesmaid’s duties as Maid of Honor. Kate says it’s, “MOH shit” than she can handle. She learns she got into Yale Law School right before her graduation.

    Macy’s wedding is only about a month before Kate heads north to Yale. Mama Caroline is hoping Kate finally meets the right guy at law school, though hopefully not a Yankee.

    Caroline Bonaventure Cunningham (‘Mama’)

    She was born and baptized Caroline Vivienne to Nicholas and Jacqueline Bonaventure of New Orleans. Caroline grew up in the Garden District in a historic home with her brother Peter, who was four years older. Jacqueline was a staunch Catholic, both her children attended Catholic School, Peter at an all-boys school and Caroline at an all-girls. On the weekends and in the summer, the Bonaventure children would be at the country club pool with their mother (“Mére”) while Daddy golfed. Their father was a lawyer, and Mere was a stay-at-home housewife as this was the 1960s.

    When Caroline was fourteen and a freshman in high school, her brother Peter went off to college. That Christmas break, Peter came home and was drinking heavily with their father. Mére got in a fight with them when she told Peter to slow down on the bourbon. Alas, when Peter went back to school for the spring semester, he overdosed when partying with his fraternity brothers: a combination of alcohol and cocaine. Peter died. The Bonaventure family was devastated. Caroline’s childhood came to an end

    Caroline was sheltered by her parents, especially her mother. For college, Caroline attended Loyola but was not allowed to live on campus. She studied psychology, fascinated by the way human minds work. When Caroline got her Master’s at Tulane, she finally moved out of her parents’ house into an apartment off Magazine Street. After graduation, she got a job offer to work at a hospital in Atlanta and decided to move away, much to Mére and Daddy’s chagrin.

    During her first month in Atlanta, she met Darius Youngblood V when she was shopping at Macy’s to buy Mére a birthday present (mango shampoo Malie). Caroline gave Darius her number, and they went out a few times but she never felt that “spark”. Darius said he and his friends were heading down to St. Simons Island for the Georgia-Florida game. She’d never been before and agrees. It’s on ‘frat beach’ where she meets Randy, who is actually best friends with Darius. Caroline immediately falls for Randy. They spend the night together, up all night talking, then watching the sunrise before tailgating the next day. After that weekend, Caroline and Randy begin a long distance relationship.

    Eventually, Randy gets a construction job in Atlanta. Caroline brings Randy home to New Orleans for the holidays after only six weeks of dating, and it’s clear her parents don’t approve (more on Randy’s story below). He proposes with a half-carat diamond, much to the Bonaventures’ chagrin.

    But Caroline and Randy get married. They bought their ‘starter home’ in Marietta. About a year later, Macy is born, then Kate about two years later, and finally Grace. Caroline had to stop working at this point because daycare was too expensive. She’s worried about money. Since Caroline doesn’t really have any friends (at this stage in her life it’s before she meets Birdie) and she can’t talk about this with her parents she tells Darius (since he’s Randy’s best friend) who ends up providing the financial backing for Randy.

    Editor’s note— I’m gonna stop here on Caroline because I feel like I’m giving too much away. Caroline has so many great stories, so for now I’ll just say she becomes a ‘Buckhead Betty’. She’s also fully immersed in her role as Mother of the Bride for Macy’s wedding.

    Randolph Erskine Cunningham (‘Daddy’)

    Randy Cunningham grew up poor in a middle-of-nowhere town between Macon and Savannah in the plains of south Georgia. He has light auburn hair (which he dyes to cover the increasingly gray and white hairs) and bright blue eyes. Randy is about six feet tall with a fit frame from his years of running Cunningham Construction, plus regularly walking the golf course with the golf radars he used.

    He and his younger brother, Charley, were born to alcoholic parents. When Randy was seventeen, and Charley was only fifteen, their father shot and killed their mother, then himself.

    The Cunningham boys went to live with Randy’s best friend, Darius Youngblood V, and his parents, Darius IV and Lydia–the wealthiest family in Youngblood County, the same family for whom they were named–until Randy turned eighteen, graduated from high school, and could become Charley’s legal guardian.

    Randy worked as a bank teller in their small town while Charley finished high school, then hauling timber for a lumber yard near a paper mill owned by Darius IV. When Charley graduated and went to college at Georgia Southern, Randy started working construction. The Youngblood family had a hand in all these businesses, and Darius IV looked out for the boys. Randy was “just trying to get by in a school of hard knocks.”

    About ten years after his parents died, Randy is at the Georgia-Florida game where he meets Caroline. He knows immediately she’s “the one.” The first time Randy goes to New Orleans to meet Caroline’s parents is awkward, to say the least. Jacquline (Mére) and Nicholas Bonaventure are unimpressed with Randy’s background.

    Nicholas tries to buy Randy out of marrying Caroline. Undeterred, Randy moves forward. Randy buys a half-carat diamond ring and proposes to Caroline one night on the couch in her apartment. They get married at the Bonaventure family’s country club in New Orleans.

    Wanting to build a life he’d only imagined, Randy takes on an investment from the Youngbloods to start Cunningham Construction when Atlanta’s housing boom begins. Business takes off with tons of projects and additional financing from Darius V and his pool of investors. He and Caroline start their family with Macy, Kate, and Grace. His dream life is coming together: building a big house in Buckhead, putting his girls through private school, and golfing at a country club. Randy feels like he’s made it.

    But then it’s 2008, and the housing market crashes. There are no projects for Cunningham Construction which means there’s no money coming in. Randy (and Darius) can’t pay back their investors. Then Macy gets engaged to Campbell.

    As Father of the Bride, and future father-in-law to the Governor’s son, Randy knows he has to pay for an extravagant wedding for hundreds of guests. He’s about to go broke but Randy doesn’t tell anyone how bad things are. Instead, he goes to Darius for help.

    And that is where I leave you, for now, dear reader. More to come on these Pretty Southern stories

  • The Pretty Southern Series – Stories of the Cunningham Family & Friends

    The Pretty Southern Series – Stories of the Cunningham Family & Friends

    At Pretty Southern, we’re trying a new experiment by publishing a series of fictional stories as blog posts.

    In the Pretty Southern stories, the reader meets the Cunningham family and their friends leading up to the wedding of the Macy Bonaventure Cunningham (the former Miss Georgia and a New York City Rockette) to Campbell Boyd Brayden (the youngest son of Georgia’s governor, Bill Brayden).

    Here’s more background info about what we’re trying to do, along with a character guide we’re updating along the way. Below are all the stories in the Pretty Southern series we’ve published so far.

    The Night Macy and Campbell Got Engaged
    Georgia Katharine Cunningham – The Li’l Liberal
    Grace Cunningham Falls in Love with the Boy Next Door

    Follow along with us using #PrettySouthern and #LoveTheSouth

    Editor’s note and a disclaimer–names are purely fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental.

  • Introducing the Pretty Southern Stories

    Introducing the Pretty Southern Stories

    Some of y’all know that I’ve been working on a book for awhile. It’s what I hope will become the Pretty Southern novel series.

    For more than a decade, I’ve written tons of stories about the South. Y’all have come along for the ride here on the Pretty Southern blog, where we recently celebrated our 7th anniversary. Outside of the blogosphere and off social media, at home in Atlanta, on weekends and in the quiet of the night, I’ve been on this journey in a fictitious Pretty Southern world.

    There’s this story that first popped in my head back in the spring of 2009, when Kevin (my husband) and I were driving home on I 75-North from seeing friends in Florida. We passed the sign for Magnolia Plantation, a roadside stand selling pecans, jams, and other Southern goods. Kevin and I had only been dating for a few months but we knew we wanted to get married (which happened in 2010). We also hadn’t launched Pretty Southern yet (that came in 2011) but I always knew I wanted to write a book.

    I had this idea of a Southern bride who won her local beauty pageant, the title of Miss Magnolia.

    The name of Miss Magnolia has changed over the years. This story has evolved in ways I never expected. It’s turned into a Pretty Southern universe with characters I feel like I know as well as my best friends and family.

    Now it’s time to introduce them to the world. I can’t keep the Pretty Southern stories in my head any longer or else I really might go crazy.

    My pal Bill Nussey knows the feeling. He put this fantastic quote from Winston Churchill in the acknowledgments for one of his books…

    “Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement; then it becomes a mistress, and then it becomes a master, and then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to servitude, you kill the monster, and fling him out to the public.”

    That’s very much what this blog is about. I’ve crossed over from the other side of going mad to actually gettin’ this damn thing done. Because I can’t be afraid anymore about what people might say about this work. This is my story, a series of Pretty Southern stories, that I think some people might like and bring a bit of joy into the world.

    With the Pretty Southern stories, I wanted to create plausible situations that could happen anywhere in the South, but I picked Atlanta because this place is my home.

    As I drove through the streets of Buckhead, our city’s most prestigious neighborhood, passing houses that only the 1% can afford, I thought about what life would be like for the folks who lived in those magnificent homes.

    It was one house in particular, behind a wrought iron gate, with a sweeping green lawn leading up to a large, three-story mansion made of white brick. This house had a big porch with Romanesque columns and white rocking chairs. Magnificent old magnolia trees bloomed in the front yard, with bright blue and purple hydrangea bushes lining a long driveway. Who would live in a house like that? What stories would she have to tell? Does she have secrets to be shared?

    What came to fruition was the story of the Cunningham family. Caroline and Randy Cunningham are “Mama and Daddy” to three very pretty Southern girls: Macy, Kate, and Grace.

    Macy Cunningham is the oldest daughter who won the title of Miss Magnolia her junior year at Magnolia Academy. Macy went on to win Miss Georgia when she was in college. She competed in the national pageant but didn’t even place. In her senior year, Macy decided to audition for the Rockettes in New York City. She made it and after graduating she moved to the Big Apple with one of her college sorority sisters. They’re out one night at a bar when Macy meets Campbell Boyd Brayden. She recognized him as the son of Georgia’s governor. Macy played it cool. Campbell asks for her number, and a year later Macy and Campbell are engaged and planning an elaborate wedding for 500 people at St. Simons Island.

    That’s how all these stories come together with these characters’ lives intertwined leading up to the wedding of Macy and Campbell. I’ve already got about 70,000 words in the Pretty Southern Wedding book (which I’ll have to revise after all this is done), but I wanted to tell these characters stories first.

    Why? Because I’ve fallen in love with them.

    The Pretty Southern world includes Randy Cunningham’s younger brother, the girls’ Uncle Charley, Aunt Deidre (who dies from cancer), and their daughter, Autumn, the girls’ cousin who is also the best friend of Kate, the middle Cunningham daughter. We get to know the Cunningham’s grandma, Caroline’s mother, “Grand Mere” who lives in a big house in New Orleans, plus Macy’s best friends, her bridesmaids, all have their own stories, as well as Caroline’s best friend, Birdie, who hosts Macy’s bridal shower. The youngest Cunningham daughter, Grace, who is only seventeen, is also in love with Birdie’s son Wesley, the older boy next door.

    Of course, there has to be a villain, Darius Youngblood V, Randy Cunningham’s best friend who ultimately leads to the family’s demise. That’s a whole other story that I’ve also written, but I’ve got to go in order here so y’all can follow along.

    Names and places are purely coincidental. This is entirely a work of fiction, though the situations these characters find themselves in are drawn from the reality of these complicated times we live in.

    I also wanted to show how Southern women, and men, are impacted by the patriarchal society of the South.

    So here’s how you can read along with the Pretty Southern stories. There will be a bunch of individual blog posts published in the coming weeks each with a piece of the novel. The main characters will all be linked through #s. For example, if you want to specifically read Macy’s story about her meeting Campbell in New York, you can type #Macy #Campbell in the search bar in the upper righthand corner (coming soon).

    In the bottom of each post will link to the other parts of the stories pertaining to these characters. I’ll also have a character index (or Table of Contents) so if you like one character in particular, you’ll be able to click and read all of their stories, once they’re published, of course.

    The reason I’m publishing all of this on PrettySouthern.com first instead of doing Amazon Kindle is a) because I gotta get this shit done already and b) I want your feedback, reader! I want you to be honest about the stories you read. In a perfect world, I’d love to figure out how to do a television series about Pretty Southern because there is so much about this world to share and so many stories to tell.

    If I want to make the world a better place, it starts by doing what I love which has always been writing. The first time I was published, I was only 6 years old. It was an apology letter from the Big Bad Wolf to the Three Little Pigs. Fast forward 26 years later and a lot of life in the South, and I’ve got my own fairy tales to share.

    There’s more to come with the Pretty Southern stories. Read on to Meet The Cunninghams – Our Character Guide.

  • The Mountains I Carry

    The Mountains I Carry

    Editor’s note–the following is an excerpt from a manuscript by Andrea Walker

    The day I knew I wanted to be a writer was also the day I went “missing” and my face almost ended up on a milk carton.

    I was nine years old and had finished reading an excerpt from Walden by Henry David Thoreau. In the book, he talks about the woods as his inspiration to write. My young, impressionable brain thought that I should do the same thing and venture into the woods myself for inspiration.

    I packed a bag which included my two favorite Barbies, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and my brand new diary with its own lock & key. I left mom a very detailed, well-written note about my whereabouts and knew exactly where I wanted to go.

    Our house was surrounded by forests but the spot I had in mind was a creek bed that was deeper into the woods. It was mid-afternoon. After I found my writing spot, I placed my pink Barbie travel bag on the ground and perched on top of it. I was always a very peculiar child where I could sit and daydream for hours and had no recollection of time. So I honestly can’t really tell you how long I was out there staring up at the trees and scribbling various thoughts in that diary. By the time the sun was going down, I knew I needed to get home and my little adventure had come to an end.

    As I got closer to my house, I noticed that there were several police cars in the driveway. I instantly started to panic and thought something bad had happened to Mom or Dad. When I walked into the kitchen, two policemen were talking with my Mom. They all turned to see me wheeling my travel bag behind me, looking as perplexed as they did. Needless to say, I was grounded for an entire month and I was banned from taking anymore writing sabbaticals.

    But my love for writing never stopped. I would go off and write plays, stories, poems, and proudly show them off to my parents. Our fridge became a collage of my budding passion.

    As a child who was always in her head, writing has always been a way for me to connect the dots, to explore the “whys” and “hows” and try to understand why things happen the way they do. Writing opens up the door for me to document the journey, so to speak. Interestingly enough, I knew deep down that one day I would have a story to tell.

    When Dad died my senior year in high school, the last story I wrote was called The Body which recounted me seeing him in his coffin at his funeral. I never shared that story to anyone. I quickly burned it after writing it and never spoke about my father to anyone. After that, I wrote hardly at all. I hardly talked about what was going on inside my head. I stayed in a shell, always writing in my own head but never having the courage to put it words.

    Years later, as my mother’s health worsened, I stopped writing altogether. She used to whisper to me sometimes as she struggled to breathe, “I miss your stories, Andrea. When are you going to write for me again like you used to?” When she died, that’s when I started working on this book.

    For the last couple of years, I’ve tried to piece together my life like scenes in a movie, trying to recollect all those moments from my childhood, my young adulthood, to where I am now–and figuring out how the story may end. All the people around me, the many people I have loved, lost, hated, admired, adored–all of them weaving in and out of my memories, shaping my existence then and feeding my need for recollection now.

    Like my nine-year-old self, I want to go back out into the woods from my youth. I want to hear my father’s strong, calm voice and feel my mother’s touch. Honestly, I can’t really remember what they both sound like now. I want to rewrite the pain from their lives and create a new story for them. I want to turn my heartaches into love stories that last forever.

    “Why?” I ask God. “What do I do with this all this?”

    I don’t believe that life is a series of happy or sad accidents. There’s intentionality to the people we meet, whose lives are intertwined in our own. Each person, each moment is part of a bigger picture of our existence, that makes us who we are and breathes life into us. Each moment is like a thread that intertwines over time. I celebrate those moments in this book. The mountains that I have climbed. The peaks and valley of my existence thus far. Maybe…just maybe…I can pay homage to all those souls who came into my story over the years.

    I dedicate this book to my parents, to the people that I have loved and loved me in return. You know who you are. I have grown to appreciate this complex, dark, rich and diverse world in which we live In.

    So I tell you, my reader, that the hardest and most beautiful thing about this world is to live in it.

    But you already know that.

    Andrea Walker writer
    Andrea Walker is a true Southern woman having been born and raised in Alabama and currently living in Atlanta. She received her journalism degree from the University of Alabama Birmingham and spent several years in broadcast journalism before moving into marketing. This excerpt is from her first memoir and is super passionate about mental health and women’s empowerment issues.

  • Reclaiming the Gentleman Ideal

    Reclaiming the Gentleman Ideal

    Editor’s note–the following editorial is contributed by Kevin Sprague

    Where have all the gentlemen gone?

    I have pondered this question for a few months, since I read Peggy Noonan’s op-ed “America Needs More Gentlemen” in the Wall Street Journal.

    In the piece, Noonan laments how men in our society seemingly have “lost track” of what it means to be a gentleman, failing to demonstrate even the most basic values and commitments that society once expected them to embody. And this loss is most clearly visible in how men and women relate to each other today, especially when it comes to romance.

    Our society is reeling. Norms and expectations that we once implicitly agreed upon as appropriate conduct between the sexes have blurred, and this has come with consequences–sometimes serious ones (for example, the #MeToo movement).

    For Noonan, part of the blame falls on men who have forgotten how to behave like gentlemen. But she also believes social media shares some of the blame. The freedoms social media grants–specifically the ability to express one’s unfiltered opinions instantly, without repercussions–often contradict classic gentlemanly values. Users feel emboldened to express their basest desires which, according to Noonan, ultimately “[spread] like a virus.”

    To restore healthier relationships between the sexes, Noonan argues that society must reclaim the lost art of the gentleman.

    The piece doesn’t strike me as generationally tone-deaf; in fact, I agree with her: our society needs gentlemen back. But I am convinced it will take more than the individual effort to successfully bring them back. We men will need help at least in the following ways:

    • The term “gentleman” will need a societal deep cleaning. We’ve allowed contradictory values to infiltrate our understanding of the term, particularly when it comes to male-female relations.
    • We’ve assumed that individualistic fulfillment, unhindered self-expression, and instant gratification would do no real harm; but we were wrong. Clearly, it has. These modern values have lowered our once lofty standards for gentlemen, allowing men to mask juvenile desires beneath a polished, well-groomed veneer.
    • Men must stop justifying voyeurism and objectification as simply “visiting the gentlemen’s club” or harmless “locker room talk.” To succeed in producing more gentlemen like Macaulay Connor (Jimmy Stewart’s character from The Philadelphia Story, whom Noonan references in her piece), the Barney Stinsons of society must no longer fit our definitions.
    • We will also need a clearer, more desirable vision of the gentleman’s life. In a time where social responsibilities are losing the force they once had, men will need to see why living as gentlemen is a more desirable life. Humans are led more often by desire than reason. We, men, need a vision that can captivate our minds and hearts if we are to become true modern gentlemen.

    Finally, implementing this vision will require deep, personal connections with like-minded men. Digital mediums (i.e. podcasts and blogs) can spread concepts effectively, but they cannot ensure real-life application. Young men will need personal training from mentors.

    Bringing gentlemen back will not be easy. It will take effort and require support.

    But in the #MeToo world, we could sure use them.

    Kevin Sprague
    Kevin Sprague is a writer originally from Marietta, Ga., currently residing in Pasadena, Calif.

    A voracious reader and self-proclaimed purveyor of puns, you’ll most likely find Kevin reading at a coffee shop, spending time with his wonderful fiancée, Lindsey, or indulging in his favorite topics: sports, culture, faith, and art. You can find follow on Twitter @Kevin_D_Sprague or Instagram @kevin_sprague.

    Editor’s note–for further reading on the ideals of chivalry, check out Jesus the Gentleman.

    Let us know your thoughts in the comments section below.