Who is Blogger/Poet/Fiction Writer/Artist Ann Johnson-Murphree?

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO EVERYONE

2014

5.Holiday Snow

HOLIDAY SNOW – ACRYLICS

BY

Ann Johnson-Murphree

Ann 6.8.2014

Ann Johnson-Murphree

Author Bio…

Born in northern Alabama, father was a Native American (Chickasaw) sharecropper who managed a farm for a businessperson from Decatur, and a mother who worked in the local cotton mill during the Depression to pay for Beautician School. Although her mother lived in the same house, she was emotionally absent since the Author’s birth. The author, raised by her father, Native American great-grandmother and an African-American woman all were great storytellers.

Instead of playing like most children, she roamed the countryside alone or with her father and at night she sat at the feet of these strong-minded individuals listening to the stories of their lives. During the summer’, she lived with her fathers’’ sister in Birmingham, Alabama; it was there that she would discover a library, and mingle with her aunt’s circle of friends that included local writers, artist, and politicians. A cabin deep within the Black Warrior Forest was the weekend retreat and filled with these people from a different life than her own. This aunt encouraged the imagination of a young Ann with the gift of her first journal, which she filled with stories over the summer. Planted was the desire to write, a seedling waiting to spurt from the warm southern heart of a child.

Nonetheless, with adulthood, the desire to create buried itself deep within, the dream wilted but did not die. It lay dormant, gaining experience all written in hidden journals. These experiences, the contents of these journals became short stories and poetry reading to share with the world.

Throughout the years along with her father, great-great-grandmother, and her beloved Aunt Francis, other influences were, Faulkner, Capote, Fitzgerald, and Harper Lee. Later in life, I discovered the warm and comic writing of Grace Paley. The Collected Stories”, the vivid poetry of William Carlos Williams; the strong poetry of Phyllis McGinley, and the world’s most exciting women, Maya Angelou are some of the poets at the top of her list.

The harshness that shrouded her life would cause her to withdraw from most of the world; it fills the pages of her writing, the heartache, the abuse, and the denial from her mother. Today, at a stage of life where she enjoys her children, grand and great grandchildren, her four-legged companion Mason, she lives in Southern Wisconsin…far from her southern roots, writes and paints daily.

ONE OF THE MANY REVIEWS ON HER WORK:

Southern living, tragedy, memories, and nostalgia… 2014

By Dr. Karen Moriarty – Karen Moriarty, Author of “Defending A King ~ His Life & Legacy” [about the incomparable Michael Jackson]

“As a former teacher of English and creative writing, I approached the reading of Ann Johnson-Murphree’s “Honeysuckle Memories” with real enthusiasm. Poetry is not a wildly popular genre currently. However, I have always enjoyed it, partly because it can be consumed in bits and pieces and at any time of day or night. This book did not disappoint. I consider poems the poet’s personal journey of heart-soul-and-mind. This collection of poems is about Southern living, tragedy, death, and memories. The poet-author’s background as a child who grew up in northern Alabama, a sharecropper’s daughter who farmed for his living, colors much of her work. I enjoyed the flow of her writing, her style of combining prose and poetry, and her reflecting the imagery from her earlier memories in vivid terms.

I recommend that you buy and read this book. It is priced well — to entice the potential reader to venture into the realm of poetry. Ms. Johnson-Murphree enjoys, above all else, sharing her love of writing with others who will enjoy it, understand her better, and share her personal journey.”

 

THE POETRY OF ANN JOHNSON-MURPHREE AT AMAZON.COM –

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_2_10?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=ann+johnson-murphree+paperbacks&sprefix=ann+johnso%2Cstripbooks%2C522

New Short Story…

On January 1, 2014, New Years Day, I submitted a short story for publication.  Below is a synopsis  and a few lines of the story.  Now on to one of my 2014 goals… cleaning up and critiquing the next story!

My Story…

Unbroken Circle – A Christmas Story submitted for possible acceptance for Christmas 2014.  Written in 2013 the story came from a dream about a woman living alone on top of a mountain in Colorado, aged, early dementia her thoughts turn to the return of her son and preparing him a welcome home supper.  The other individual melded into the story as a good person who had lost everything, his time with her after an accident on the narrow mountain road gave him hope that he had lost and her story gave him back the will to clean up his life.

Unbroken Circle – A Christmas Stor

By

Ann Johnson-Murphree

Mark Mooney lifted himself from a lumpy mattress; rubbed his side with one hand while reaching for the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels on his nightstand with the other.  As the last of the amber liquid slid down his troth, he knew that there was not enough left to dull his troubled mind.  It was Christmas Eve, all he could think of was his wife and daughter, how he had messed up; and he should be home with his family instead of living in the cold dingy room above Looney’s General Store.

 The alarm clock leap to life once again from snooze jerking him back to reality, jumping out of bed wrapped a worn blanket he stood over the open floor vent to catch what little heat that rose from the store below.  Rumbling through a clothesbasket he shook out the cleanest looking uniform washed his face, dressed and walked out the door.

Crawling into his old pickup Mark looked down at the doll wrapped from used Christmas paper pulled out of the office party trash; the one he did not remember leaving.  His plans were to drop it off after work; on his way to Dixon’s bowling alley; where a few other single parents he knew, mostly men gathered on Christmas Eve to get drunk and forget their blunders in life.

Pulling into the Post Office parking lot, he popped a stick of gum in his mouth; he needed to avoid getting close to anyone; he knew that his breath reeked of whiskey.  He could not remember the last time he was very sober, and he worried about keeping it from his employer…………

©registeration 12.13.2013.annjohnsonmurphree

“Your thoughts fellow writers?” AJM