Closet Conundrums

When it’s time for the big switch

By Susan S. Kelly

Now approacheth the dreaded biannual chore, at least for the females of the species: The Closet Changeover.

The way I understand it, and if the pictures in People magazine can be believed, people in LA never have to do this. Los Angeles is seasonless. Celebrities: They’re not just like us, actually, as People would have you believe.

And for Wisconsinites, Vermonters, Floridians and even some Texans, whatever seasonal change they have is so short that barely a hanger or a shelf needs disturbing. Ten-month winters, two-month summers, and vice-versa. But for those of us who live with real seasons, it’s time to get to it.

Now, normal people, sane people, probably schedule this task; take a Saturday and tackle it all at once, chop-chop. Then there are the folks who wake up one chilly morning and say, “Where is that sweater?” And tackle it all at once. And then there’s me — and I suspect a lot of others — who begin with good intentions and get sidetracked not by the internet, but by decisions, so that the task takes six weeks, on and off. You can’t tell, but I do have a system.

Throw everything on the floor and bed. (Hope it’s a king-size.) First, separate into categories of Too Tight, Too Short, Too Bare, and Just Because You Can Doesn’t Mean You Should. Likely, there will be a tall pile of Not Sures. And, like that old saw that warns if you have to ask the price of something, you can’t afford it, it follows that if you have to take a selfie wearing the garment in question and send it to your sisters and ask if you should keep it, the answer is probably no.

(Speaking of not affording, now’s a good time to get out the Goof Off and scrub away the tell-tale Marshalls and TJ Maxx stickers on your shoes.)

During this process, you’ll experience acute apparel anxiety. One of my sisters has said, “I’m living in separates hell.” (Remember that term, “separates”?) To escape, she’s decided to convert nearly her entire “’drobe,” as she calls her wardrobe, to dresses, and tech clothes. The other sister is such a shopper that she began putting clothes on layaway when she was in seventh grade. (Remember that term, “layaway”?) I ask you, what kind of 12-year-old knows what layaway is? A born consummate clotheshorse, that’s who, and that sister hangs tags on her clothes to remind herself what event she last wore it to — a dinner, a cookout, a meeting. I kid you not. She’s the sister who coined two of my favorite ’drobe terms: The Punishment Dress (or shirt, or whatever) that you’re sorry you bought but you have to wear to punish yourself for buying it. And The Whistle Dress, for the dress that’s so easy, and is ideal for so many situations, that you just whistle and it jumps out of the closet. Often, it must be admitted, Whistle Dresses don’t touch your body anywhere but the shoulders.

“Is this out?” I text the clotheshorse sibling, attaching a picture. “Houndstooth is never out. Neither is leopard print,” she messages back. OK, that’s settled. Onward.

Here are the clothes you’ve simply turned against, have developed an inexplicable and unreasonable hatred toward. Pitch. Here are the ones to downgrade, meaning that you “saved” it for in-law dinners, a charity speaking event, etc., but this year, it gets demoted to church. In-laws judge in-style. God does not.

I know it looks great on you, but if it itched last year, it’s going to itch this year. Pitch.

It’s also OK to toss something just because you’re tired of it. But, a warning: When photographs of you wearing it come up later in some post, or in the photo drawer that’s never been properly organized, you might find yourself saying, “Dang, that looked good. Why did I get rid of it?” Too late for regrets.

Now, here comes the poundage pile, the five-fewer-pounds-and-this-will-fit-fine-again layer, I mean pile. The clothes that my mother calls “tailored,” I call “tight,” and my daughter calls “body con” (for “conscious”). Here’s how you’re gonna deal with that. If you’ll still need Spanx with it even after the five pounds magically evaporate, pitch.

A moment, now, of self-congratulation for all the stuff I don’t have to pitch, the trends I managed to live through and do without: poufs; shrugs; tracksuits; Crocs; boiled wool jackets. The trend I wish I’d bowed to: jean jackets. The trend I fell victim to, but only once: Ultrasuede. What I will never, ever give up: clogs and cardigans. What I am, thank you Jesus, too old for: bralettes.

My final advice, born of experience, is to always buy something at the end of a season, when it’s on sale, and then, facing that shelf or rack of been-there-worn-that duds the next closet changeover (April), you’ll spot something fresh, unworn, and new-to-you, which makes the chore the faintest bit more bearable.

In Los Angeles, everybody from bums to billionaires just wears T-shirts. In New York City, everybody but Hoda and Kathie Lee just wears black. But you’re Southern. What’s in your closet?  OH

Susan Kelly is a blithe spirit, author of several novels, and proud grandmother.

Linking Different Worlds

Orr and Sparks connect North Carolina and Africa

By D.G. Martin

Two important new novels are set in North Carolina and in Africa. It is an amazing coincidence because the books’ authors live in two different literary worlds.

The first new, Africa-connected book is N.C. State professor Elaine Neil Orr’s Swimming Between Worlds. She is a highly praised author of literary fiction.

The second is New Bern — based Nicholas Sparks’ latest, Every Breath, which is being released this month. Sparks’ 20 novels have been regulars on The New York Times best-seller lists, often at No. 1, making him one of the world’s most successful writers of what some call commercial fiction.

What is the difference between literary and commercial fiction? According to Writer’s Digest, “There aren’t any hard and fast definitions for one or the other, but there are some basic differences, and those differences affect how the book is read, packaged, and marketed. Literary fiction is usually more concerned with style and characterization than commercial fiction. Literary fiction is also usually paced more slowly than commercial fiction. Literary fiction usually centers around a timeless, complex theme, and rarely has a pat (or happy) ending. Commercial fiction, on the other hand, is faster paced, with a stronger plot line (more events, higher stakes, more dangerous situations).”

Although both Orr and Sparks would argue that their work cannot be neatly packaged in either genre, the literary/commercial distinction helps prepare readers for the authors’ different styles.

In these two books, both authors tell compelling stories and feature interesting and complex characters.

Orr’s Swimming Between Worlds raises the question of whether there is a connection between the 1950s Nigerian movement for independence and the civil rights movement in Winston-Salem.

Orr grew up as the child of American missionaries in Nigeria. Her experiences gave a beautiful and true spirit to her first novel, A Different Sun, about pre-Civil War Southern missionaries going to black Africa to save souls.

Instead of slaveholding Southerners preaching to Nigerian blacks, the new book contrasts the cultural segregation of 1950s Winston-Salem with the situation in Nigeria. Although Nigerians at that time were coming to a successful end of their struggle for independence from Great Britain, they were still mired in the vestiges of colonial oppression.

Set in these circumstances is a coming-of-age story and a love story. These themes are complicated, and enriched, by the overlay of Nigerian struggles and the civil rights protests in Winston-Salem.

The main male character, Tacker Hart, had been a star high school football player who earned an architectural degree at N.C. State. He was selected for a plum assignment to work in Nigeria on prototype designs for new schools.

Working in Nigeria, this typical Southern white male becomes so captivated by Nigerian culture, religion and ambience that his white supervisors fire him for being “too native” and send him home. Back in Winston-Salem the discouraged and depressed Tacker takes a job in his father’s grocery.

The female lead character, Kate Monroe, is the daughter of a Salem College history professor. Her parents are dead, and after graduating from Agnes Scott College, she leaves Atlanta and her longtime boyfriend, James, to return to Winston-Salem and live in the family home where she grew up. She still, however, has feelings for James, an ambitious young doctor.

How Tacker wins Kate from James is the love story that forms the core of this book. But there are complications created by a young African-American college student who is taking time off to help with family in Winston-Salem. Tacker and Kate first meet Gaines on the same day. After Gaines buys a bottle of milk at the Hart grocery store, white thugs attack him for being in the wrong place (a white neighborhood) at the wrong time. Later on the same day, Kate spots an African-American man holding a bottle of milk, walking by her home in an upper-class white neighborhood. She thinks he probably stole the milk. She is terrified, and immediately locks her doors and windows. She shakes with worry about the danger of this young black man walking through her neighborhood. The young man is, of course, Gaines.

It turns out that Gaines is the nephew of Tacker’s beloved family maid. Tacker and his father hire Gaines to work in the grocery store, and he becomes a model employee.

But Gaines has a secret agenda. He is working with the group of outsiders to organize protest movements at lunch counters in downtown retail stores.

Gaines sets out to entice Tacker to help with the protests, first, only to allow the store to be used at night for a meeting place. Then, over time, Tacker is led to participate in the sit-ins.

In Nigeria, Tacker had found his black colleagues and friends to be just as smart, interesting, and as talented as he was. He found them to be his equals.

Back in Winston-Salem, he has at first slipped back into a comfort level with the segregated and oppressive culture in which he grew up. His protest activities with Gaines put his relationships with his family, Kate and possible employment at an architectural firm at risk.

Tacker’s effort to accommodate his growing participation in the civil rights movement with his heritage of segregation leads to the book’s dramatic, tragic and totally surprising ending.

The African connection in Nicholas Sparks’ new book is Tru Walls, a white safari guide from Zimbabwe, formerly Rhodesia. In 1990, the 42-year-old Tru comes to Sunset Beach to meet his biological father. It is his first visit to the United States. On the beach he meets Hope Anderson, a 36-year-old nurse from Raleigh. She is in a long-term relationship with Josh, a self-centered orthopedic surgeon. Nevertheless, she and Tru immediately fall into a deeply passionate love affair.

How Hope resolves her competing feelings for Tru and Josh is the thread that guides the book to a poignant conclusion 24 years later at another North Carolina beach.

In the meantime readers learn from Tru’s experiences about the lives of white farm families and the competing claims of the overwhelming black majority in Zimbabwe. Sparks’ descriptions of wildlife and the safari experience evoke memories of Ernest Hemingway’s African short stories.

Sparks’ publishers say that Every Breath is in the spirit of The Notebook. In both books, the lovers’ early encounters involve fiery and youthful passion. Sparks brings them together again years later as older, even infirm, people still deeply in love.

PBS’s Great American Read has named The Notebook one of America’s 100 best-loved novels. It’s the only book set in North Carolina to make the list. On Oct. 23, PBS will announce the one book selected as America’s best-loved novel.

Voting will be open until Oct. 18. You may register your votes for The Notebook and for other books on the list. Go to www.pbs.org/the-great-american-read/vote/. For a list of all 100 books, go to www.pbs.org/the-great-american-read/books/#/.

As part of its participation in The Great American Read during the first two weeks in October, UNC-TV will air special “North Carolina Bookwatch” interviews with Sparks about The Notebook and Every Breath. OH

D.G. Martin hosts “North Carolina Bookwatch,” which airs Sundays at noon and Thursdays at 5 p.m. on UNC-TV.

In the House

October sees the release of several design books, in time for High Point Market

Compiled by Brian Lampkin

When I first landed in the Triad, I had no idea what a furniture market was, let alone what constituted a High Point. Now, I understand what a vital economic engine the High Point Market is — and not only for downtown HP. Small businesses across the Triad bask in the overflowing excess of the furniture world coming to our backyard. Not surprisingly, we sell our share of furniture and design books during the madness. Listed below are some of the designers with new books who will be coming to High Point this October.

Ray Booth, Ray Booth: Evocative Interiors. Presented here are Booth’s most celebrated Nashville residences and never-before-seen projects in Palm Beach, Louisiana, New York, Texas and the Hamptons. Each illustrates his innovative use of furniture as architecture to define rooms, draperies in place of walls, captivating displays of art and mirrors, and an eclectic mix of antiques and contemporary pieces. Among the house profiles is Booth’s Nashville home, which shows the influence of Frank Lloyd Wright and the Prairie School, revealing his appreciation for traditional materials, particularly large expanses of glass, masonry and wood. Ray Booth will appear at the Antique & Design Center on Saturday, October 13 at 4 p.m.

Kathryn Scott, Creating Beauty: Interiors. The first book from acclaimed Brooklyn-based interior designer Kathryn Scott, whose handcrafted interiors evoke a sense of serenity, harmony and simplicity. Kathryn Scott is a designer whose disciplined eye results in interiors praised for their beauty and minimalism, as well as their artisanal details. Through 10 residences, bookended by Scott’s own acclaimed five-story, 19th-century Italianate brownstone in Brooklyn Heights and her ravishing country house, the book explores the idea of home as sanctuary, a place to rest, replenish and refocus. Kathryn Scott will appear at the Antique & Design Center on Saturday, October 13 at 4 p.m.

Richard Keith Langham, About Decorating: The Remarkable Rooms of Richard Keith Langham & Paloma Contreras, Dream Design Live. This first book on the esteemed decorator and tastemaker — known for beautiful interiors that are replete with tradition, saturated color, elegance and Southern flair — will delight design aficionados. Paloma Contreras is the blogger behind the popular interior design site La Dolce Vita. She has been featured in many major publications, including Domino, House Beautiful, The New York Times, AD online, Vogue, Elle Decor and the Wall Street Journal. Richard & Paloma will appear at the Universal Furniture Showroom at 11 a.m. on Sunday, October 14.

Jeff Dungan, The Nature of Home: Creating Timeless Houses. Following in the tradition of populist architects Gil Schafer and Bobby McAlpine, Dungan designs new traditional houses for today — houses with clean lines, made with stone and wood, that carry an air of lasting beauty and that are made to be handed on to future generations. In his first book, Dungan shares his advice and insight for creating these “forever” houses, exploring eight of them in full, from a beach house on the Gulf Coast to a farmhouse in the Southern countryside, as well as a family home in the Blue Ridge Mountain. Jeff Dungan will appear at Curry & Co. at 2 p.m. on Sunday, October 14.

John Loecke, Jason Oliver Nixon, Prints Charming: Create Absolutely Beautiful Interiors with Prints & Patterns. This bright, lively interior design book is like no other: It shows readers how to choose and use pattern (whether on upholstered furniture, walls and floors, or in curtains, rugs and accessories) to create gorgeous room designs. It also teaches readers how to layer pattern[s?] for fresh, exciting, personalized spaces. The book is delightfully illustrated with inspiring images of design elements and finished rooms with each chapter packed with lively DIY projects, plus Dos and Don’ts, Try This, and more. Jason Oliver Nixon will appear at the Port 68 Lighting Showroom on Monday, October 15 at 10 a.m.

Thomas O’Brien, Thomas O’Brien: Library House & Charlotte Moss, Charlotte Moss Entertains: Celebrations and Everyday Occasions. Charlotte Moss is a designer, author and philanthropist. She has designed numerous private residences in the United States and abroad, collections of carpets, furniture, fabrics, china and enameled jewelry. She has authored nine books. Thomas O’Brien is an interior and home furnishings designer based in New York City. He is the founder and president of Aero Studios, one of America’s most respected design firms, and is the author of American Modern and Aero. Charlotte and Thomas will appear at Century Furniture on Monday, October 15 at 4 p.m.

Paloma Contreras, Dream Design Live, Donna Garlough, Your Home, Your Style: How to Find Your Look & Create Rooms You Love, and Nora Murphy, Country House Style: Making Your Home a Country House. Enjoy lunch with Paloma, Nora and Donna at their book signing at The Point (near the Transportation Terminal) at 11:15 a.m. on Tuesday, October 16.  OH

Brian Lampkin is one of the proprietors of Scuppernong Books.

Dustin’ The Bunnies

An ode to the power of leaving well enough alone

By Grant Britt

People who come to my house for the first, and usually, the last time, seem somewhat taken aback by my housekeeping methods, or lack thereof. It’s not so much that I’m bad at it as it is that I just don’t see what the problem is. When I put something down, it’s usually because I want it to stay where it is for the duration. And that would be either for the duration of my life or that of the object. Therefore, I see no need to disturb it, or me, for the mere purpose of brushing it off. I find that over the years, my objests d’art — the various Elvii reincarnations including a bust of the King topped with a luchador mask, a plaster statue of Martin Luther King sporting Bullwinkle horns and wearing an orange sash of police tape with “Do Not Enter” emblazoned on it, and a revolving Santa  figurine sporting a “I’d Rather Be Riding My Tractor” bumper sticker across his ample belly, all surrounded by  life-size standup  posters  featuring the full cast from the  movie The Big Lebowski, — acquire a fine patina, composed of dust, finger smudges, and various and sundry airborne pathogens.

Movement, regarding among people or objects, makes me nervous. When something gets where it’s supposed to go, it’s time to leave it be. It’s like this: If I wanted to use the damned thing in daily life, I’d have it either in my hand, my pocket, or a-hangin’ off my belt. If it’s just sittin’ there, then by Gawd it’s at rest and you’d best leave it there if you know what’s good for you. But obviously you don’t, or else I wouldn’t have to be writing about your meddling with my stuff.

Most people know and abide by the rules, but every once in a great while I’ve had an out-of-towner or a trial girlfriend who turns out to be an under-the-bed peeper. It’s OK to look; just don’t make the mistake of mentioning it to me. I don’t give a damn if the dust bunnies are the size of Bigfoot — they don’t eat much and they don’t keep me up at night, so let them, and me, alone.

If you look at it in the right way, which is my way, it’ll make life a whole lot easier — for both of us. I don’t consider it dust so much as decoration, a natural enhancement not to be fiddled with by grubby  human paws. A few Elvii appear to have dandruff issues, and the Jesus action figure seems to be performing another miracle by causing it to snow atop the desert background in his display case, but other than that, nobody seems concerned abut it, least of all me.

Not to mention the fact that dust doubles as a protective coating. All that shiny paint they put on stuff can hurt your eyes if it doesn’t have a nice layer of funk on top. Dust is our friend. In addition to dulling the glare from bright and shiny surfaces, if you leave it alone long enough, it gets all gummed up around the sharp edges of things so you won’t cut yourself if you violate house rules and pick something up, (but that doesn’t mean that I won’t cut you, so behave yourself!)

Well, you get the idea. Maybe it’s time for you to run along. You won’t keep still, you’re stirrin’ up the dust and disturbin’ the critters, and more important, me. So for everybody’s sake, why don’t you just scoot on along back to your spotless little house and squeaky-clean life and leave me to do the dirty work? Somebody’s got to feed those bunnies.  OH

Readers are encouraged to enable Grant Britt’s pursuit of collectibles to hoard by leaving possible treasures on his porch on trash day or any other joyous discarding occasion.

Not-So-Polite Company

A comedy of manners

By Jane Borden

Everyone is someone else’s intruder. I certainly felt like one when I first met Nathan’s family. They did nothing to make me feel that way, I should clarify. But I still did. Gaining in-laws is like joining the Witness Protection Program: You get a second life, but it’s full of strangers. Nevertheless, they were now part of my closest circle, as if the word “insider” were a contronym. Nathan had once been completely unknown too, of course, but the time span comprising his transition to life partner was longer than one weekend. 

For the record, my in-laws are great. We loved and accepted one another immediately. But even those circumstances can’t mitigate the strangeness of the scenario. Hey, people I hardly know, let’s do Christmas biannually until we die! Yes, technically, it is a choice based on DNA, but it’s not my DNA.

In at least one way, in-laws are even further from family, on the relationship spectrum, than strangers are. I am way more polite to my in-laws than I am to almost anyone else. As a child, when I protested the practicality of the regimented system of traditional manners I was taught, my parents’ response was, “You might meet the Queen of England one day.” This is a ridiculous statement. When would I meet the Queen? When she visited North Carolina because of her interest in tobacco farming and Michael Jordan? Or would it be when I was knighted for my contribution to the junior-dance arts? Further, if I did meet her, how would she know that the reason I wasn’t discussing money was simply because it hadn’t come up yet?

Nevertheless, the specter of this future royal meeting endured, precisely because it is an unfalsifiable argument. But now I also understand it to be a metaphor: The Queen of England is my mother-in-law. Somewhere a needlepointed novelty pillow is smiling. And so, I reserve my most respectful comportment for her.

As examples, I’ve put together this list of behaviors, categorized by whether or not I will exhibit each behavior in front of in-laws, strangers, or family.   

Belching:

In-laws: Never.

Strangers: Occasionally, by accident, and always followed by apology.

Family: Often. Then my sisters shout, “Good one!” — and my mother dies inside.

Talking about religion or politics:

In-laws: Never.

Strangers: Sometimes. This is why Twitter exists.

Family: My parents’ frequent suggestion that I “grow up to be a lawyer” was really just their exit strategy from arguments.

Sarcasm:

In-laws: Rarely.

Strangers: It’s how I make friends.

Family: I hardly see them when I visit because my eyes are rolled so far back into my head.

Criticizing them:

In-laws: Never.

Strangers: When I am in my car and can safely drive away.

Family: I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t made this list.

Taking advantage of hospitality:

In-laws: Never.

Strangers: I tidy after myself in hotels.

Family: I walk in the door and I’m 16 again.

Walking around in pajamas:

In-laws: Almost never.

Strangers: It’s how I bank.

Family: I hardly packed anything else.

Complaining:

In-laws: Never.

Strangers: This is what Facebook is for.

Family: I definitely shouldn’t have made this list.

Drinking too much:

In-laws: Never.

Strangers: This is what strangers are for.

Family: Only in the summer, at the beach, every summer, for an entire week.

Arguing over who’s paying the check:

In-laws: Never.

Strangers: Never.

Family: Never.

I need to apologize to my family. I don’t know why they still claim me, but I’m assuming it’s because I have their granddaughter. Since she is also Nathan’s, my in-laws have less incentive to keep me around, and this is precisely why I behave around them. I still live in fear of them calling him to say, “Think about your daughter, Honey — what if sarcasm is genetic?”

It’s a silly fear, I admit. It’s not like washing dishes and avoiding politics obscure my other faults. So, clearly they have already accepted me, including never called to warn him that I’m a bigot. 

I should explain. Before Nathan and I were engaged, he invited me to Indiana to meet his family. Part of the trip included a drive north to his grandmother’s lake cottage. For about 30 minutes of that afternoon, while Nathan ran an errand, she and I were alone together, sitting on lawn chairs facing a small waterway that connects two sections of the lake. While we chatted politely, a pontoon boat rumbled down the waterway, propelled by an outboard motor and carrying close to a dozen Amish teenagers.

“Interesting,” I said. “They’re using a motor.”

“Yes,” she replied. “Interesting.”

Then I remembered that Amish communities encourage adolescents to spend a period of time away from their culture and its rules, in order to strengthen their faith upon returning. This rite of passage is called Rumspringa. So I said, “Maybe they’re on their Rumspringa.”

Then there was a period of silence, after which Nathan’s grandmother replied, sternly, “Well, I think the Amish are very nice people.”

Wait, what?

“I do too,” I protested. “What did you think I said?”

After a brief silence, she asked, “Well what did you say?”

“That maybe they’re on their Rumspringa.”

More silence, until, finally: “Hmm. Yes. Well.”

Then she changed the subject. What could I do? Argue with a nonagenarian hosting me in her home, a tactic that would surely make whatever happened even worse? Instead, I let it go. I let her think I hate the Amish.

What an unlikely group to disparage! That’s exactly how bigoted she must think I am — if you hate a group of hardworking, simple-living Christians, whose entire belief system is rooted in pacifism, then you have cast a wide net of hatred. No wonder she changed the subject: She was probably afraid I’d start in on the Quakers.

Further, she believes I was confident enough in said bigotry to casually drop it in front of a woman I’d never met, who also happens to be my boyfriend’s grandmother. One question remains: What did she hear when I spoke? “Rum slinger?” “Gun singer?” ”Their lack of alcoholism and generally quiet nature are ruining this country?”

I’ll never know. But here are some things I do know, after doing some reading about the Amish way of life. Not all communities abstain from the use of all electronic or motorized devices. Rather, each group’s church leaders approach powered appliances on a case-by-case basis. So it’s possible these teenagers use outboard motors often, regardless of whether they were on any kind of culturally sanctioned break from the religion’s rules. Further, that time period is not always referred to as a Rumspringa. And whatever you call it, it isn’t really a time of partying. Most Amish adolescents don’t live outside the home during this period, or booze it up, or blare rock music. The period is mostly marked by a higher degree of socializing and courting, in advance of making the decision to be baptized and join the church.

In other words, during my lakeside conversation with Nathan’s grandmother, I unfairly defined an entire group by the behaviors of only a handful of its most visible members, which is literally part of the definition of racism. Grandma was technically right.

On the car ride home, I told Nathan what happened. But there was something he didn’t tell me until much later: Earlier that afternoon, after she and I had been alone together, he shared with her that he planned to propose to me. And she said nothing to him about the Amish incident. I may be a bigot, but you know what they say: The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who stayed silent..  OH

Greensboro native Jane Borden continues her own Rumspringa in Los Angeles.

Well-Behaved Women

Zelda with a twist

By Wiley Cash   •   Photographs by Mallory Cash

For anyone who knows Therese Anne Fowler, it is no surprise that she writes about women like Zelda Fitzgerald and Alva Vanderbilt, women who were artistic, brilliant, and outspoken. Therese’s friends would describe her much the same way. I first met Therese at the South Carolina Book Festival, where we spoke on the same panel in the spring of 2012. We made fast friends, telling stories about book tours and life in North Carolina, where she and her husband, novelist John Kessel, live in Raleigh. I saw Therese several times over the next few months at various conferences and festivals. I knew she had a new book coming out, but she never said much about it. And then Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald was published in March 2013. It blew the doors off every preconceived notion readers had about the woman who had always been known simply as Mrs. F. Scott Fitzgerald. A few months after the novel came out, I saw Therese again at the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville. By that time both Z and Therese had experienced incredible success: The novel had appeared on The New York Times best-seller list, and a television show based on the novel and starring Christina Ricci as Zelda Fitzgerald was in production at Amazon. I told Therese how thrilled I was for her, and I asked her how it felt. She smiled, turned her head, and revealed the tiny “Z” she had tattooed behind her left ear. She planned to keep Zelda with her forever, and people who have read the novel and have seen the series understand why.

With her new novel, A Well-Behaved Woman: A Novel of the Vanderbilts — which tells the story of Alva Vanderbilt, a woman who went from being a member of the fallen Southern aristocracy to a Gilded Age socialite and, eventually, a leader in the women’s suffrage movement — Therese has once again given life to a heroine that readers will not soon forget. It seems that critics feel the same way. Publishers Weekly and Kirkus Reviews both gave the novel starred reviews, and People magazine named it a Best Book of the Fall. Sony Pictures believed in Therese’s take on Vanderbilt’s life so much that they optioned the novel for a television series before she had even finished writing it.

Over Labor Day weekend I met Therese at The Haymaker in downtown Raleigh to talk about writing about historical women, the thrill of seeing her work on the screen, and how she is feeling about her new book, which is scheduled for release on Oct. 16.

“I’m excited,” she says. “But I’m cautious. You can’t predict the book business.”

We are sitting at a small table by the huge windows where the late-day light barely reaches the high ceiling. On my right, a gorgeous flower mural spans an entire wall. The bar behind Therese features leather-covered stools and industrial lighting. To my left is a sitting area where a comfortable Victorian-styled sofa and leather armchairs invite patrons to sip cocktails and chat. The interior of The Haymaker is the perfect combination of clean lines and lush decadence. When our drinks are delivered, I offer a toast to well-behaved women. Therese laughs and lifts her cocktail, the cachaca/Campari-based Agua-Benta, which is infused with jalapeno and features hints of lime and pineapple, and clinks it against my pint of Peacemaker Pale Ale. She takes a sip and looks around.

“Alva would have been very comfortable in a place like this,” she says. “Zelda would have been, too.”

“What was it like to see Zelda come to life on the screen?” I ask.

“Wonderful,” Therese says. “I loved it, and I think Christina Ricci was perfect. My only regret is that Amazon didn’t renew it for a second season. Viewers learned all about the beginning of Zelda’s life and her relationship with Scott Fitzgerald, but we never saw them get to Paris, where the writers of the Lost Generation all come together. It would have been fascinating to see that.”

“Were you surprised when Hollywood came calling a second time when Sony optioned A Well-Behaved Woman?”

“Very surprised,” she says. “I was in New York with my agent, pitching the novel to editors and sending the book to auction. We were standing on the subway platform when my agent got a call that Sony wanted to option it. The book was still at auction and hadn’t even been purchased yet.”

I have a feeling that many people will be hearing about Alva Vanderbilt when A Well-Behaved Woman is published, some perhaps for the first time. After a life that spanned the Civil War, World War I, the Gilded Age and the Great Depression, Alva Vanderbilt would die in Paris in 1933. Perhaps, if Therese and Sony have their way, both readers and viewers will make it to Paris even though Amazon did not get us there with Zelda. And who knows? The next time I see Therese she might show me a fresh “A” that has been tattooed behind her other ear. You never know what a well-behaved woman is going to do next.  OH

Wiley Cash lives in Wilmington with his wife and their two daughters. His latest novel, The Last Ballad, is available wherever books are sold.