Pamela V. Mason is a hybrid native of New Orleans and Mobile, AL … two sister cities that are so alike, they polarize each other like the north and south ends of magnets. Much like Pam… and Pamela.
At three, I couldn’t reconcile who this Pamela person was my mother called me. Not that I’m schizophrenic (well, anymore than any other writer is) … but I developed a knack for stepping outside my surroundings and seeing the different dynamics at work.
Now I write them down.
So when you see italics on one side of the page and straight Times New Roman on the other, you’re reading Pam vs. Pamela. The smartmouthed, perpetual seventeen year old who enters, uninvited but knowing she’s welcome anyway, through the New Orleans’ open doors, sparring with the more reserved and polite and socially acceptable Pamela, who learned her manners from Mobile’s pink striped city streets.
Drag Queens pitted against Azalea Trail maids describes my romance writing, with some N’Awlins paranormal and Mobilian southern gentility thrown in.
Now I’m in my fifties,living outside Atlanta, with a house that will soon be too big for me and my Hero alone. My dream – if I were to win the Power Ball Lottery – is to buy a mighty RV with a push out wall and big screen tv and our road bikes strapped to the back, and travel the continent from end to end, visiting every local arts & crafts, music, and food festival every little town has to offer.
What a kick that would be.