#re-release-book — Public Fediverse posts

Whatnot Wednesday for #ThursdayDoors on a Hot August Night

Wednesday, August 13, 2026

Hello, everyone.  Right off the bat, I apologize for getting ahead of Thursday Doors.  It helps me on a few different levels if I stick to my Wednesday/Weekend posting schedule.  Last week, I mentioned that throughout August I’ll be sharing about book Brother Love: A Crossroad.  (Click here for that post because it will tell you more.) I also said that Dan Antion made a lot of great photos to illustrate the blog version of this story.  Those photographs included some doors.  So today I’m taking you on a tour of my fictional 1950s town, Parlement, Mississippi via Dan’s photos.

Here’s a bit about that house in the words of Birdie Devovo, the heroine:

My house sat in a triangle between ways at a crossroads.  There was a street in front and another road in back.  There were also any number of old trails that intersected there.  Old superstitions about the crossroads abounded.  My mother had been able to get the house because no one else would have it.  I kept it because I had nowhere else would have it.

Oh, that screen door is part of a suspenseful scene…

Doug Armstrong’s voice sounded as spooked as I felt.  The big man’s voice had the slightest quiver.  His fist banged on the screen doorframe again. I extricated myself from my hiding spot under the kitchen table before Armstrong broke the poor excuse for door.

Like most small southern towns, there were churches.  They’re mentioned in the story, but the one that comes into the plot is the traveling tent revival:

Earlier that day, sitting in my little house at the crossroads, I listened to the sharp crack of a bat hitting a baseball from the ballgame that had started up in the field next to the African Methodist Episcopal Church.  People cheered their teams and made happy sounds. From the other side of the tracks, I heard the bell of the First Methodist Church up in the town.  When the breeze was right, I could hear the Wurlitzer organ as the choir practiced. Folks were excited about that organ.  I preferred the sound of their old piano.

The two churches were on either side of the town.  The crossroads lay between the two.  Nobody from either of them ever came to the house at the crossroads.  Neither group wanted anything to do with Birdie Devovo.

This abandoned diner didn’t make it into the story, but there would have been a diner somewhere in Parlement.  Anyway, it’s a cool photo, so it gets a moment of fame today.

Women in big cities might have started wearing slim cigarette or capri pants out in public, but that hadn’t become acceptable in Parliament, Mississippi.  I already attracted enough frowns and gossip, just from my mother’s reputation, so I didn’t wear those out in public.  I tried to banish the thoughts as I put on a yellow gingham, shirt-dress.  It had a little bow at the neck from the same check fabric.  Then I tied on my blue denim Keds.  New white laces kept the wear and tear from being as noticeable.  Nobody would know the soles were worn slick.  When I drove my old Nash Rambler wagon into Parliament, I turned onto Fourth Street where the Post Office was.

In rural towns of that era, the local Post Office could be a hub of information.  Birdie came across something quite puzzling there. 

Birdie is a nickname for the heroine, but there actually is a bird, and he’s one of the most important characters.  His name is Jinx.  He’s a talking magpie.  Some parts of the story are told from his point of view.

Jinx sat on the perch in his birdcage.  The cage door was open as always.  He shifted foot-to-foot as Birdie came into the kitchen carrying a laundry basket and a small container of blueberries.

“How-deee!” Jinx chirped his Minnie Pearl impression.

There’s a door on that birdcage somewhere… Birdie Devovo usually leaves it open — Jinx comes and goes as he pleases.  That’s how he finds so much trouble in a sleepy little town like Parlement.

♣ ♣ ♣

Hello, Jinx, but this post is finished now.  That’s it for this tour of Birdie Devovo’s world in fictional town of Parlement.  Thanks for coming along.  Friendly comments are welcome.  However, a note to newcomers — just remember that this is a sanctuary, so we don’t discuss religion, politics, or things that are polarizing.  Everyone needs to feel welcome.  Hugs on the wing!

♣ ♣ ♣

Naturally, the obligatory shameless self-promotion must be included.  Brother Love: A Crossroad continues to be at a special sale price throughout the month of August.  

Brother Love – a Crossroad

Strange things abound in 1950s Parliament, Mississippi.  Jinx the magpie can fill you in on the details.

Universal Purchase Links

E-Book:  relinks.me/B07V25SXFR

Paperback:  relinks.me/107952309X

Audiobook:  Click here.

♣ ♣ ♣

This blog is entirely human-written.  Furthermore, the author expressly prohibits any entity from using this publication for purposes of training AI technologies to generate text.  No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author, or used with permission, or from free sources.

Copyright © 2026 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

Whatnot Wednesday for #ThursdayDoors on a Hot August Night

Wednesday, August 13, 2026

Hello, everyone.  Right off the bat, I apologize for getting ahead of Thursday Doors.  It helps me on a few different levels if I stick to my Wednesday/Weekend posting schedule.  Last week, I mentioned that throughout August I’ll be sharing about book Brother Love: A Crossroad.  (Click here for that post because it will tell you more.) I also said that Dan Antion made a lot of great photos to illustrate the blog version of this story.  Those photographs included some doors.  So today I’m taking you on a tour of my fictional 1950s town, Parlement, Mississippi via Dan’s photos.

Here’s a bit about that house in the words of Birdie Devovo, the heroine:

My house sat in a triangle between ways at a crossroads.  There was a street in front and another road in back.  There were also any number of old trails that intersected there.  Old superstitions about the crossroads abounded.  My mother had been able to get the house because no one else would have it.  I kept it because I had nowhere else would have it.

Oh, that screen door is part of a suspenseful scene…

Doug Armstrong’s voice sounded as spooked as I felt.  The big man’s voice had the slightest quiver.  His fist banged on the screen doorframe again. I extricated myself from my hiding spot under the kitchen table before Armstrong broke the poor excuse for door.

Like most small southern towns, there were churches.  They’re mentioned in the story, but the one that comes into the plot is the traveling tent revival:

Earlier that day, sitting in my little house at the crossroads, I listened to the sharp crack of a bat hitting a baseball from the ballgame that had started up in the field next to the African Methodist Episcopal Church.  People cheered their teams and made happy sounds. From the other side of the tracks, I heard the bell of the First Methodist Church up in the town.  When the breeze was right, I could hear the Wurlitzer organ as the choir practiced. Folks were excited about that organ.  I preferred the sound of their old piano.

The two churches were on either side of the town.  The crossroads lay between the two.  Nobody from either of them ever came to the house at the crossroads.  Neither group wanted anything to do with Birdie Devovo.

This abandoned diner didn’t make it into the story, but there would have been a diner somewhere in Parlement.  Anyway, it’s a cool photo, so it gets a moment of fame today.

Women in big cities might have started wearing slim cigarette or capri pants out in public, but that hadn’t become acceptable in Parliament, Mississippi.  I already attracted enough frowns and gossip, just from my mother’s reputation, so I didn’t wear those out in public.  I tried to banish the thoughts as I put on a yellow gingham, shirt-dress.  It had a little bow at the neck from the same check fabric.  Then I tied on my blue denim Keds.  New white laces kept the wear and tear from being as noticeable.  Nobody would know the soles were worn slick.  When I drove my old Nash Rambler wagon into Parliament, I turned onto Fourth Street where the Post Office was.

In rural towns of that era, the local Post Office could be a hub of information.  Birdie came across something quite puzzling there. 

Birdie is a nickname for the heroine, but there actually is a bird, and he’s one of the most important characters.  His name is Jinx.  He’s a talking magpie.  Some parts of the story are told from his point of view.

Jinx sat on the perch in his birdcage.  The cage door was open as always.  He shifted foot-to-foot as Birdie came into the kitchen carrying a laundry basket and a small container of blueberries.

“How-deee!” Jinx chirped his Minnie Pearl impression.

There’s a door on that birdcage somewhere… Birdie Devovo usually leaves it open — Jinx comes and goes as he pleases.  That’s how he finds so much trouble in a sleepy little town like Parlement.

♣ ♣ ♣

Hello, Jinx, but this post is finished now.  That’s it for this tour of Birdie Devovo’s world in fictional town of Parlement.  Thanks for coming along.  Friendly comments are welcome.  However, a note to newcomers — just remember that this is a sanctuary, so we don’t discuss religion, politics, or things that are polarizing.  Everyone needs to feel welcome.  Hugs on the wing!

♣ ♣ ♣

Naturally, the obligatory shameless self-promotion must be included.  Brother Love: A Crossroad continues to be at a special sale price throughout the month of August.  

Brother Love – a Crossroad

Strange things abound in 1950s Parliament, Mississippi.  Jinx the magpie can fill you in on the details.

Universal Purchase Links

E-Book:  relinks.me/B07V25SXFR

Paperback:  relinks.me/107952309X

Audiobook:  Click here.

♣ ♣ ♣

This blog is entirely human-written.  Furthermore, the author expressly prohibits any entity from using this publication for purposes of training AI technologies to generate text.  No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author, or used with permission, or from free sources.

Copyright © 2026 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.