Inspiration from the Past

Let me introduce myself. My name is Jody Herpin and I’m the author of my first published novel, Relative Consequences, released on March 12, 2022. I wrote another novel, Weather Permitting, but decided not to publish it at that time. I live in Metro Atlanta with my husband, Mike, and our Mini-Aussie, Bella. I enjoy writing (obviously), reading, painting, taking walks with the dog, and I’m a huge fan of British Television Crime Dramas. 

I’m a Georgia girl, who writes with a southern accent. Born in Savannah, I’ve lived in Georgia, Florida, Alabama, North and South Carolina, and even lived a few years in Virginia. Having witnessed southern behavior and colloquial personalities all my life, I tend to create my characters from these observations.

Relative Consequences is a story about Jessy Tate and Rita Rhodes, two women who share a childhood secret. One needs to remember; the other wants to forget. As children, they experienced evil at a time in history when small towns kept big secrets. 

About eight years ago, I began brainstorming ideas for this novel but didn’t decide on the complete story arc until about five years later. To create a backdrop for the story, I drew from childhood experience. I was the youngest in my family, my siblings being twelve and sixteen years older than I was. When I was around seven years old, my father moved us to Bonita Springs, Florida. Dad and his partner had purchased Mother’s Kitchen, a diner situated strategically on Highway 41 (or the Tamiami Trail). The year was 1956, which as you know, was a significant time in American history with our country primed for the changes that soon took place. With my sister in college and my brother playing professional baseball, Mom, Dad, and I lived in a small apartment attached to the rear of the diner. My mother hated it; however, I thought it was cool being that close to the action in the diner and having my own tiny room. Even though I was quite young, the years I spent in Bonita Springs left an impression on me.

Mother’s Kitchen (called Aunt Prissy’s Kitchen in the novel) was the epitome of the American diner of that decade with its red-topped stools and chrome-edged Formica tables. Waitresses energetically served tourists and the regulars, customers who returned day after day claiming their tables or booths of choice. Of course, we had a jukebox, which played all the popular 45 rpm records. A colorful array of locals would gobble up my father’s specials, loudly expressing their opinions on local, state, and national news, southern politics, and the gossip buzzing around town. Dad was a dear man and wonderful cook, who upon my request would fix my favorites, i.e., chicken and noodles and key lime pie, and would gladly make Cherry Smashes for my friends and me after school.

Enrolled in Bonita Springs Elementary School (currently listed on the National Register of Historical Places), I experienced dual-grade classrooms. There weren’t enough children or teachers to warrant separate classes. I became friends with a girl, who was much older; in fact, she probably belonged in the fifth or sixth grade, not in the third. Her parents were tenant farmers passing through the area, picking citrus fruit in season from nearby groves. My tall friend was beautiful and knew so much more about life than I did. Actually, I followed her around like a puppy dog, envying the freedom her parents gave her; after all, they had allowed her to attend school barefoot. I created my character, Rita May McAfee Rhodes, after this girl, yet their personalities are different. In the book, Rita May has a mean streak and is spiteful. My friend was easygoing and happy despite her family’s circumstances and living conditions. 

In those days, parents weren’t afraid to let their kids have the liberty to explore and wander around their towns and neighborhoods. My friends just had to make sure we came home before the streetlights flicked on. Mothers and fathers just didn’t worry. We were safe in our small town. I remember one Halloween when a friend and I walked so far from home that we got lost, taking us two hours to find our way home, yet no one was concerned about our whereabouts. That’s the way it is for Jessy and her friends. 

A purely fictional story, Relative Consequences takes place in three parts while peppered with an underlying theme of forgiveness. Part One exists in the present tense and the location is primarily set in Atlanta where Jessy Tate struggles to remember a trauma from her past. However, Part Two reflects Jessy’s eleven-year-old point of view of a small town in the 1950s Bonita Springs. Back in the present tense, Part Three has Jessy searching for closure while facing her guilt and the consequences of her actions. 

If you get a chance to read Relative Consequences, I hope you enjoy it. Currently, I’m working on a mystery series set in the 1980s about a family and their secrets who live and work in Sequoyah, a fictitious town in North Georgia. 

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Jody Herpin is an award-winning author who writes with a southern accent. A wife, mom, and Grams, she loves bragging about her Mini-Aussie, Bella, solving puzzles, painting with watercolors, and cheering for the Braves and Georgia Tech. Born in Savannah, her roots lie in Georgia. She enjoys traveling all over the South but makes her home in Metro Atlanta. Jody relays stories using bits and pieces from her own life experiences while creating colorful characters and placing them in settings she once visited or called home. 

Find out more about Jody on her website https://jodyherpin.com/

Follow her on Twitter https://mobile.twitter.com/jodyherpin

RELATIVE CONSEQUENCES

RELATIVE CONSEQUENCES tells the story of a retired teacher who is on a mission to find the truth about her past no matter what the cost.

Jessy Tate buries her husband on a chilly day in October 2005. That’s when the nightmares begin again; but this time, the scenery is clear, and the fear is real. However, the puzzle pieces in her head don’t make sense. These vivid flashbacks reflect what her mind has forgotten—a drama starring a childhood friend and a giant banyan tree. The dreams take her back to when streets were safe at night, when nearby beaches remained pristine, and when most folks ate their breakfast at the local diner. It was a time in history when little towns kept big secrets.

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Category: On Writing