The Sky Club by Terry Roberts

                                                                              

When her worn out, dying mother tells her to leave the hardscrabble mountain farm on Big Pine and make “a life that I can’t even imagine,” plucky Jo Salter does just that. Blessed with an uncanny gift for numbers, she soon finds employment at a booming bank in booming Asheville. The year is 1929. And things are about to change.

Rich in history and detail, The Sky Club by Terry Roberts chronicles the years of boom and bust, as Jo pinballs from the proud mansions and institutions of Asheville’s elite to the smoky, steamy, jazz-fueled speakeasy atop Beaucatcher Mountain. She can hold her own in either setting, but she is increasingly drawn to the jazz and the dancing at The Sky Club—and to its manager, the mysterious Levi Arrowood--a far piece from anything her mother might have imagined.

Jo is a true mountain woman, forthright, resilient, and independent as a hog on ice.  Her story, set in a pivotal moment in history, is a delight. For those of us familiar with the area, Roberts’ s meticulous account of familiar places is an special added attraction.

I've spoken of Terry and his books before. He has kin in Madison County--a great-great (or so) grandfather lies in the cemetery next to one of our pastures. He has a real feeling for and gift of bringing this beloved place to the page. And of all his books, I believe that this one is my favorite. Jo Salter is a woman to remember.

                                                                   

Asheville

In Asheville for a faculty reading at Malaprop's on Sunday, I couldn't resist the view from the parking garage. 

I love peeking into these lives . . .

(and imagining the different people who live in these apartments . . .)

Someday, when it's not bitter cold and windy, I should really take my camera and walk around the city before the rising tide of new buildings engulfs everything old.

Someday . . .

Evening in Asheville

Asheville After the Rain

I was in town yesterday to participate in a program of readings by members of the Great Smokies Writing Program. It was a pleasant, well-attended hour and a half or so of assorted poems, essays, novel excerpts and one very silly story. (That was me.)

Rain was falling when I left Malaprop's (Asheville's iconic independent bookstore, host of the Authors at Home reading series) and the parking garage afforded a fine view of a rainbow stretching over the cut on Beaucatcher Mountain.

I've been here long enough to remember Beaucatcher before the cut and Asheville when it was mainly boarded up stores. It's become a lively place now, full of natives, transplants, and tourists  -- a pleasant, walkable little city . . . but it continues to grow, adding hotels and high rises at a frightening pace.

 

I don't live in Asheville so my opinion isn't particularly informed . . . but I could wish that the growth would slow down.  I could wish that more affordable housing was being built rather than more high rise hotels blotting out the same lovely views that the tourists travel here to see.

Add caption

Thanks, Merisi!

I was in Asheville yesterday, attending a luncheon for Muddy Sneakers (of which I shall post more tomorrow) and of course I took my camera.

It's ironic -- Muddy Sneakers is all about getting city kids out into Nature and helping them to understand what they see there.

I, on the other hand, am only now beginning to appreciate what I see in a city -- and that's thanks to Merisi's blog. Without Merisi, I wouldn't have stopped to notice the delicate pastel tiles surrounding this simple but elegant carving...

And thanks to Merisi, I'm always looking up at roof lines  and enjoying the geometry of architecture. . .

 Here are some more things I saw in Asheville yesterday.

 

Asheville for Beginners

I found myself downtown last night, with time to kill before my reading at Malaprop's. 

I thought of Merisi and the beautiful city pictures she takes.

Of course, her city is Vienna.

But Asheville, too, has its shadows, reflections, and shafts of sunlight.

A Cow's Spring

                                                          No memory lingers

                                                          Of mud's misery, of dry hay,

                                                          Nor of snow and ice.

                                                          Warm in the Eternal Now,

                                                          The cows graze, gorging on Spring.   

 

 And speaking of grazing . . . the Obamas, who are vacationing in Asheville this weekend, made an excellent choice for good barbecue . . . they also went hiking . . . I keep wishing they'd stop by and set a spell on the porch.