Here it is March 12, nearly Spring, and it is snowing in North Carolina. I’m just fine being stuck inside because I am happily lost deep within the pages of a captivating book. I bought Lee Smith’s Dimestore: A Writer’s Life shortly after it came out in 2016. I know readers will understand when I say I didn’t get right to it as there were several ahead of it in my book queue. (It is true: so many books, so little time.) But I picked it up off my bookshelf a day or two ago and it is everything I hoped it to be. No, it’s more, much more.
I knew it would be an interesting memoir about a writer that I happen to like a lot and met once in the gardens where I used to work. But I didn’t know it would feel like coming home to me.
Smith grew up in Grundy, Virginia, a place I heard a lot about growing up. My Dad’s family lived in and near Grundy in his early childhood. It’s not too far from the little country town that I grew up in West Virginia (an actual state, not the western part of Virginia, as we Mountaineers so often have to clarify). Smith writes of dying coal mine towns, front porch sitting, storytelling, dimestores (like the one her Daddy owned in Grundy), schools, mental illness, and the people we call family, friends, and neighbors (in these Appalachian towns family, friends, and neighbors are usually all one and the same).
There are many sentences in Dimestore that speak directly to me. In fact, I’ve written sentences similar to Smith’s, although perhaps not with her clarity and lyricism. I feel like we share many of the same experiences of a place and its people. Place and people, that’s the heart and soul of Appalachia.
I know I will return again and again to passages like these:
“Our own Appalachian culture is as rich, and as diverse in terms of history, arts, crafts, literature, folklore, and music, for instance, as any area in this country.
But in fact, we are far richer than most. Our formidable geography acted as a natural barrier for so long, keeping others out, holding us in, allowing for the development of our rich folk culture, our distinctive speech patterns, our strong sense of tradition, and our radical individualism. Appalachian people are far more rooted than other Southerners. We still live in big, extended families that spoil children and revere old people. We will talk your ears off. We still excel in storytelling – – and I mean everybody, not just some old guy in overalls at a folk festival. I mean the woman who cuts your hair, I mean your doctor, I mean your mother.”
“The battered box contains my mother’s whole life story, in a way, with all its places and phases, all her hopes and the accommodations she made in the name of love, as I have done, as we all do.”
“Most of us [writers] are always searching, through our work and in our lives: for meaning, for love, for home.”
“The mountains that used to imprison me have become my chosen stalking ground.”
I’m only about halfway in, so I know there will be many more underlined, asterisked passages that resonate with me. Maybe I’ll share them in a follow-up post. Or maybe you would like to read them for yourselves. (Check it out at your local library or purchase here at Quail Ridge Books.)
Now please excuse me as I cover up with my Mom’s quilt and continue to get lost in a small-town, Appalachian ‘Dimestore’ on this snowy day.
A few pictures from the garden. We didn’t get much snow, just a little more than a dusting. And today it’s 49º. Welcome to North Carolina.
Is that snow on the pergola or Clematis armandii?
Snow on the hellebores,
And the fresh shoots of a Paeonia.
Have a seat, if you dare.
The southwest border with small pond still pumping.
Willie Nelson Traylor, the grandpup, enjoying the beginning of the snowfall.
The southwest border–yellow-leaved forsythia, iris, and hellebores.
Giving Voice to My Astonishment 
I just bought the book. Thank you for the recommendation. My grandfather was a Pennsylvania coal miner and I know this story will resonate will me as well. Can’t wait to read it!
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I’m so happy you got it. I think you will enjoy it, it seems like you will with the regional connection and also the writing part. I have marked it up so much already:) Have you written much about your grandfather and coal mining? Seems I remember reading something about this?
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I have written a little about him. My copy of the book arrived yesterday. I can’t wait to dig in! (Ironically, I have to finish a book called Indigo Dying, which is about strip mining.)
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I’ll have to check that one out. Thanks!
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Your garden and grounds look lovely — even with the snow. Yes, I totally agree — there is nothing like snuggling up with a good book on a snowy day. I’ve had plenty of days to do that this winter (in between other paperwork and those darned taxes). Still, the snow makes me happy to stay inside. The green grass yesterday turned white overnight with another good 6″…
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Oh gracious–taxes. This was my first year as a freelance writer and I have a big learning curve! At least they are all turned in for someone else to deal with! (Hopefully:)) Ha! Spring is just around the corner…
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Your garden looks just like mine – all mixed up and waiting for real spring. I like the sound of the book.
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Yes, my garden is later than usual this year. Soon it will be covered in green and blooms and I’ll be spending every free minute weeding–which I actually enjoy!
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What a great review Cheryl! You have made this book appeal to me, even though I live so far away our seasons lie opposite to each other. I visited South-west Virginia three years ago and that is as close as I got to West Virginia, the countryside was stunning! Your garden looks beautiful and I shall look forward to seeing more of it as the snow clears and spring gets underway in your part of the world!
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Thanks, Pauline! Snow is all gone and today I will move some irises. Green is popping up everywhere!
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Cheryl, your words make me happy and remember a time long ago. My mind tries to go back to a time where nothing matters, yet everything matters for a reason.
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I think you would enjoy this book. Also her Fair and Tender Ladies. That time and that place and what really mattered…In a perfect world…
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What a great post! What a great way to write about what you’re reading! And I love the photos.
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Thank you! This post just popped out of nowhere. I am truly enjoying this book and wanted to shout it out for others to read.
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Sounds good! I wish there was a way to add to Goodreads from WP! Gorgeous photos!
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Thanks, Luanne! You would think they would’ve figured out how to do that by now. The snow was short-lived, but pretty to look at while it lasted.
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You would think so. It would be so cool to be able to add to my to-read list on Goodreads with one click from WP!
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How did I not know Lee Smith had a new book out (well, sort of new)? Her Fair and Tender Ladies might be one of my favorite books of all time, and I have loved many, many more of her works. Like you, I read her and feel transported back to my roots – in my case, Western PA, close to WV, although farther north than your home hollers. Glad to get this tip from you; it will go into my own “pile” of future reading!
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Wonderful! I’m glad you saw this post because, as usual, Lee’s Dimestore is funny, entertaining, and has so much info for writers. I know you will enjoy it. I am picking up all kinds of ideas about how to continue writing some family stories that have me flummoxed. Her voice is always so clear and authentic. Fair and Tender Ladies is also a favorite of mine. Home hollers–I love it!
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