MSI Press Blog

  For those attracted by the charm of the South, check out the following MSI publications: Abandoned, neglected and beaten by a mother who really did care about her but suffered from her own demons and addictions, left with friends and relatives, as well as placed in foster homes, molested and raped on more than one occasion, including by men considered upright, the little girl who grew up to become an educator, minister, and entrepreneur learned to survive by running away again and again. This heartbreaking and heartwarming story, told with courageous frankness, reveals a deep trust in God that, in the long run, promoted an unbelievable resilience, allowing a young girl, turned young woman, to forgive those who hurt her and to reach out to all those who hurt with a message of healing and hope. For more posts by and about Gewanda and her book, click HERE . A heaping slice of old-fashioned Southern storytelling, this book gives readers a taste of genuine American life that will keep the

Excerpt: First Pain Through the years, Binta often told people I was her “first pain.” I assumed it was because I was her first born, but the more I thought about it, I was not her primal pain. She was in pain long before I came along. As a child, I recall her telling me many times that she was the “black sheep” of her family. By my observation, she was a copper-colored, smooth-skinned beauty with dark, inquisitive eyes and long, thick hair. Knowing her siblings as I do, she may have seemed like a prickly-know-it-all in her conversations with them.       Binta also made statements to me, questioning her parentage, saying, “My aunt I got named after is really my birth mother.” She never said why she thought that. Other times, she’d say about her mother, my Nana, Dia Mae Black, “She didn’t love me; in fact, I think she hated me. That’s the reason my family and me seemed like a poor fit.” How awful! What a mindset to have about your own mother and family members!       Throug

  Exceprt from It Only Hurts When I Can't Run 23. Belt in te Face By the time I was twelve, in the seventh grade, and still under Miss Taylor’s thumb, our relationship had slowly deteriorated. It wasn’t completely my fault. It began with Miss Taylor being preoccupied with her friendship with one of her church sisters, Mrs. Manor, forcing me into give-and-take with the two Manor girls my age; fortunately, I could ignore the Manor boys.       The Manor family lived in Sebring’s country outskirts. Miss Taylor would take me, Jon, and any other kids in her temporary care to the country. The county scents that changed from sweet to foul, depending on where you stood in the yard, surprised and invigorated me. Dodging snorting pigs and running after chickens (or from them, in my case, because I thought they were crazed beasts) put a lot of glee into the day. Playing in a smelly trailer hidden in the woods made it seem like we had our own personal house. Eating fried sweet potatoes, rather

A couple of years after the fact, we stumbled across a great book review by The Car's Maw at mypennameonly blog. Very appreciated is the 5-star review and the time taken to write it. I received a copy of this book from a Publisher’s giveaway on  LibraryThing.com  and the following is my honest opinion for the book. Although it’s not directly stated reading this book I got the sense the storyline is actually a poignant fictionalized memoir of the author herself as there too many key points which both Binta, the girl in the story, and the author share. While a purist might say this book needs to be edited to some degree, I feel the writing as is adds to the authenticity of the story being from the girl’s POV. Many other girls in the same position as Binta would have succumb to what the fates had in store for her, however the speck of faith she had in her heart and soul persevered and she survived. And having survived she herself, and like Lazarus rising from the dead, her