{"id":14238,"date":"2025-06-02T13:17:30","date_gmt":"2025-06-02T17:17:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/?page_id=14238"},"modified":"2025-06-02T13:17:32","modified_gmt":"2025-06-02T17:17:32","slug":"walter-bennett","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/walter-bennett\/","title":{"rendered":"Walter Bennett"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I\u2019m not sure, exactly, when I started writing, but I know when I first felt it. That was on my grandparents\u2019 front porch in rural Virginia when, at the age of eleven, I got shipped \u201cnorth\u201d from my home in Alabama to work on their tobacco farm. On Sunday afternoons, aunts, uncles, and cousins in varying degrees gathered to rock, smoke, shell peas, and talk. Soon the stories began to rise from their collective past – of hard times, ancestors who fought in the Civil War, family feuds and triumphs, neighborhood scandals involving the preacher and a choir director \u2013 stories of good people, bad people, and some who were most certainly crazy. The scenes and the people in them came alive on that porch and lingered long after the voices were silent, the peas all shelled, and the rocking chairs rocked still. The magic in them captured me \u2013 not only the magic in the stories themselves but the urge they kindled in me to tell them in my own voice, infuse them with my unspoken hopes and dreams, feel them lift me away into the starry night of my own imagination.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That, for me, is how writing began.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That urge followed me through my life as a student, a soldier in Viet Nam, and thirty years as a civil rights lawyer, judge, and law teacher. When I finally sat down to write serious fiction, stories bubbled up like virgin springs from every facet of my life, but the ones that really stuck, that made me stay with them and go deep, were those that dealt with what the writer Russell Banks once told me was the defining moral issue of our time (his and mine; we were about the same age): race.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a kid growing up in the white supremacist South of the \u201850s and \u201860s, the crucible of racial oppression was right there before me every minute of every day. A pestilence of terror hung in the air. I felt it, even as a privileged white boy. The Klan was riding, Black people were marching and dying, and hope glimmered dimly through an endless thicket of violence and fear. That\u2019s where the \u201cdeep\u201d stories came from. My first novel, Leaving Tuscaloosa<\/em>, follows the trail of two boys \u2013 one Black and one white – through two days and nights of racial strife in a southern town. My new novel, Sayla is My Name<\/em>, continues on that trail of racial injustice and follows it into the darkness of American slavery by tracing the story of a mixed-race woman who endures the horrors of slavery and, amidst the chaos of the Civil War, fights her way to freedom and a new life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In addition to those two novels, I\u2019ve published a third, The Last First Kiss<\/em>, 2020, and short fiction and essays in various journals, including Blackberry, Story, Eclipse<\/em>, and The Courtland Review<\/em>. A well-received book on the legal profession entitled The Lawyers\u2019 Myth<\/em>, was published by The University of Chicago Press in 2001. My first novel, Leaving Tuscaloosa<\/em>, won the 2013 Alabama Author\u2019s Award and was a finalist for the PEN\/Bellwether Prize for Socially Engaged Fiction and The Crook\u2019s Corner Book Prize for debut novels set in the South. \u201cBlack Quill,\u201d an essay on trout fishing, appears in Astream, American Writers on Fly Fishing<\/em>; Robert Demott, ed, Skyhorse Publishing, 2012<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Regal House Publishing is proud to bring you Sayla Is My Name<\/em> in the fall of 2026.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I\u2019m not sure, exactly, when I started writing, but I know when I first felt it. That was on my grandparents\u2019 front porch in rural Virginia when, at the age of eleven, I got shipped \u201cnorth\u201d from my home in Alabama to work on their tobacco farm. On Sunday afternoons, aunts, uncles, and cousins in […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":{"0":"post-14238","1":"page","2":"type-page","3":"status-publish","5":"entry"},"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/P9DpGh-3HE","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":9416,"url":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/dale-neal\/","url_meta":{"origin":14238,"position":0},"title":"Dale Neal","author":"Jaynie","date":"May 3, 2022","format":false,"excerpt":"The ancient mountains rolling over Western North Carolina made me as a boy and later as a writer. As a child growing up in the suburban 60s of the South, my deepest memories were hemmed in by high hemlock-covered ridges. Beyond Boone, my grandfather farmed a small tobacco allotment, grew\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","block_context":{"text":"Similar post","link":""},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Neal-headshotbw.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Neal-headshotbw.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/Neal-headshotbw.jpg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":13229,"url":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/yance-wyatt\/","url_meta":{"origin":14238,"position":1},"title":"Yance Wyatt","author":"Jaynie","date":"June 17, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Each evening I sit cross-legged before the gas fireplace of my Pasadena apartment and read a story to my son as though we\u2019re huddled around a campfire. He may not be ready for ghost stories or forest folklore, but he has graduated from picture books to fables, the sort that\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","block_context":{"text":"Similar post","link":""},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/Headshot_Yance-Wyatt.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/Headshot_Yance-Wyatt.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/Headshot_Yance-Wyatt.jpg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/Headshot_Yance-Wyatt.jpg?resize=700%2C400&ssl=1 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":5999,"url":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/culley-holderfield\/","url_meta":{"origin":14238,"position":2},"title":"Culley Holderfield","author":"Jaynie","date":"November 10, 2020","format":false,"excerpt":"photo by Jodie Holderfield I first became enchanted with stories on the front porch of a cabin in a forested Appalachian cove, clinging to tales spun by my grandmother and others of her generation. On long family trips, my parents entertained the kids with cassette tapes of Jackie Torrance\u2019s Jack\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","block_context":{"text":"Similar post","link":""},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/Culley-Holderfield_bw-scaled.jpg?fit=962%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/Culley-Holderfield_bw-scaled.jpg?fit=962%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/Culley-Holderfield_bw-scaled.jpg?fit=962%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/Culley-Holderfield_bw-scaled.jpg?fit=962%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":13976,"url":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/michel-stone\/","url_meta":{"origin":14238,"position":3},"title":"Michel Stone","author":"Jaynie","date":"December 17, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"I was born and raised in Charleston County, South Carolina and can trace multiple branches of my family tree back to the late 1700s in the Lowcountry. My ancestry is heavily populated with farmers and fisherman. As a young girl I\u2019d spend hours in the woods, fields, and along creekbanks,\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","block_context":{"text":"Similar post","link":""},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/michelstone-4-1-scaled.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/michelstone-4-1-scaled.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/michelstone-4-1-scaled.jpg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/michelstone-4-1-scaled.jpg?resize=700%2C400&ssl=1 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/michelstone-4-1-scaled.jpg?resize=1050%2C600&ssl=1 3x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/michelstone-4-1-scaled.jpg?resize=1400%2C800&ssl=1 4x"},"classes":[]},{"id":12719,"url":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/scott-gould\/","url_meta":{"origin":14238,"position":4},"title":"Scott Gould","author":"Jaynie","date":"May 4, 2023","format":false,"excerpt":"I was born, raised, and still live in the South, a place with which I\u2019ve had an extremely roller coaster-ish, love-hate-love (again) relationship for way too many decades. With roots deep in Southern dirt, I suppose I\u2019m genetically imbued to believe everyone carries around a decent story to tell, and\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","block_context":{"text":"Similar post","link":""},"img":{"alt_text":"Scott Gould","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/05\/scott82-1bw-scaled.jpg?fit=857%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/05\/scott82-1bw-scaled.jpg?fit=857%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/05\/scott82-1bw-scaled.jpg?fit=857%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/05\/scott82-1bw-scaled.jpg?fit=857%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":14221,"url":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/mike-heppner\/","url_meta":{"origin":14238,"position":5},"title":"Mike Heppner","author":"Jaynie","date":"May 19, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"Photo credit: Geoff Nathan I was born in Rhode Island, grew up in Michigan, and I\u2019ve been living, teaching, and writing in the Boston area for over twenty years. When the weather allows (usually 7-8 months out of the year), I can usually be found reading and writing on my\u2026","rel":"","context":"Similar post","block_context":{"text":"Similar post","link":""},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/Heppner5.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/Heppner5.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/Heppner5.jpg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/Heppner5.jpg?resize=700%2C400&ssl=1 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/Heppner5.jpg?resize=1050%2C600&ssl=1 3x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/Heppner5.jpg?resize=1400%2C800&ssl=1 4x"},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14238","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14238"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14238\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14240,"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/14238\/revisions\/14240"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/regalhousepublishing.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14238"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}