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Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society: A Novel
Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society: A Novel
Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society: A Novel
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Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society: A Novel

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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TOGETHER THEY FOUND THE ONE THING THAT ELUDED THEM AS INDIVIDUALS: A PLACE IN THE WORLD.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAtria Books
Release dateOct 2, 2012
ISBN9781451675269
Author

Amy Hill Hearth

Amy Hill Hearth is the author of Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women’s Literary Society and Miss Dreamsville and the Lost Heiress of Collier County, in addition to author or coauthor of seven nonfiction books, including Having Our Say: The Delany Sisters’ First 100 Years, the New York Times bestseller-turned-Broadway-play. Hearth, a former writer for The New York Times, began her career as a reporter at a small daily newspaper in Florida, where she met her future husband, Blair (a Collier County native). She is a graduate of the University of Tampa.  

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Reviews for Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society

Rating: 3.8 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Hooked my interest since I'm from the area and she nurtures sick turtles (yay!). Started out good but by the end of the novel I felt like I had instead read a draft to a novel. Recommended to local library for book club anyways and the ladies there absolutely loved it.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I really found myself enjoying this quick little read. The story about a group of people that join together to form a Women's Literary Society in 1960's Florida centers around the prejudices each one faces in their small town community, or for that matter across America at that time in history. It really makes the reader realize just how far we've come since that not so long ago era.
    I really enjoyed the characters and the plot, but I was slightly disappointed when the author dashed off a few paragraphs at the end giving us a look at the characters futures. I was really hoping this was the start of a series.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The characters in this novel were charming, each in their own way. I feel as though I were just getting to know each character better and the book was over. I think the author could have written more little stories within the story, because my biggest complaint is that the book was too short. Definitely was an easy read but still well written and humorous. I'm now thinking of who I would like to see cast in the movie version. If you liked The Help or Secret Life of Bees, then I believe you will like Miss Dreamsville too.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    An OK read for a short plane flight. I thought the writing was sophomoric and the character development thin.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Author Hearth takes the reader back to Naples, Florida circa 1962. A vibrant Northerner, Jackie Hart arrives in this small "redneck" town and changes the viewpoint of a band of misfit when she posts a flyer announcing the foundation of the Collier County Women's Literary Society. The group includes our storyteller, Dora who is a divorced Southerner, Plain Jane, a single middle-age woman who writes erotic stories for magazine, Priscilla, a young black maid, a convicted murder and the town's only homosexual male. You will fall in love with this band of misfits as the explore life and literary in this backwater town.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A nostalgic look back to when women stayed home and men went to work.Jackie Hart and her family moved from Boston to a town in Florida that was definitely old fashioned. You will meet Jackie and you will also meet an unmarried librarian, an unmarried lady who secretly writes sex novels for a publisher in New York, a divorced woman who works in the Post Office, a woman just out of jail for killing her husband, a maid, and an eccentric male. This group met once a week for a book club which they call The Collier County Women's Literary Society.The characters are all quite diverse but warm and caring. Out of the blue, one of the book club members decides to do a late night radio show, and the entire town is in an uproar trying to figure out who it is especially since her name is none other than Miss Dreamsville.This book was so fun, and took you back to a different lifestyle that our mothers probably were a part of.....well, at least my mother. :). It was a simpler life but also one that was strict.It isn't a book I normally read, but I did enjoy it.....a nice light read and change of pace. It will make you laugh, but it will also make you wonder if it really would be a time period where you want to live. The characters were all different and showed that “different” is what makes the world go round. How could it all work out if we were all the same? The characters worked together perfectly in the book. It did get a little dramatic at times, but overall a fun read and one that makes note that all of us are different yet all of us are the same. 4/5This book was given to me free of charge by the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I started to write this one last night and had to stop because I just wasn't sure what to say. I genuinely enjoyed this book; it was lovely, and funny and extraordinarily accurate for its place and time. But would others enjoy it as much as I did? I don't know. I know a huge part of why I enjoyed it as much as I did had to do with its setting: southwest Florida in the early 60's. I'm definitely not that old, but the Florida I knew as a child differed very little from the Florida Ms. Hill Hearth describes, although thankfully, the Klan was long absent in my time, as was segregation. Eighty-year-old Dora, the narrator of a story that began a half century earlier, is bonding with an unlikely set of friends, including Jackie Hart, a restless middle-aged wife and mother from Boston, who gets into all sorts of trouble when her family moves to a small, sleepy town in Collier County, Florida, circa 1962. Dora at 80 resonated with me; her story-telling style reminded me of my father, a master of the art himself, and nights sitting around the dinner table listening to tales of growing up in a Florida that was mostly swamp and almost no concrete. I was never bored listening to those stories and I was never bored with this book either. Each of the members of the Collier County Women's Literary Society has their own societal burden to carry - none of them justified - and all of them find strength and mayhem when they come together. The author could have perhaps built the story with more tension, but I didn't mind not really worrying about what would happen; I just had a great time going along for the ride. I'm definitely checking out the sequel.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Picked this book up from a library display and glad I did what a fun read. Set in 1960's Naples, Florida a Yank from Boston moves to town and stirs things up in this small southern town. Jackie (from Boston) starts a reading group at the local library the group it is filled with an oddball cast of characters from the small town. The librarian, a negro servant girl, a homosexual young man, a murderer, a divorcee, a spinster and of course Jackie make up the new literary society. The author through her story weaves in factual history from the time period. Enjoyable read!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Some things just can't be believed and Southern literature in particular is chock full of such things. Characters are zany; events are outlandish. Or is it that characters are outlandish and events are zany? Either way, the hallmark of fun southern fiction is pure wacky. Amy Hill Hearth's novel Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society has over the top and wacky in spades. When Dora Witherspoon, who rescues turtles and works at the Post Office is caught leafing through the only copy of Vogue magazine to ever come through the Naples, Florida post office by it's rightful owner, Jackie Hart, they strike up a conversation. Jackie is new to town, a Yankee in a very southern enclave. She's bored and doesn't fit into this town her husband has moved her to so she decides to start up a book club at the library. The oddly eclectic bunch who show up for the first meeting are all town outsiders of one sort or another. There's Dora, who is divorced; the librarian; a plain woman who secretly writes steamy romances and sexy articles for magazines; an elderly woman convicted of killing her husband and newly released from prison; a literate young, black maid with dreams of higher education, and the only homosexual man in town who also happens to live with his alligator hunting mother. The only thing any of these people have in common is their outsider status and their interest in the book club and yet they come together as friends and partners in crime on some truly crazy, sometimes scary adventures. The novel is set in 1962 but it is told from the perspective of Dora fifty years on, now in her 80s. She recounts the group's formation and slow bonding plus the roiling tensions in town that particular summer through the lens of Jackie's non-native lack of understanding. There's the ongoing mystery of what really did happen to Bailey's husband and the not really a mystery of who Miss Dreamsville, the sultry sounding radio personality who keeps the town captivated, is. The group also has a scary run-in with the local KKK and Jackie's young son is arrested as a suspected Communist. The tone of the book is light as fits a goofy caper style novel but it actually has some weightier issues than it appears at first blush from prejudice and racial hatred to the expected role of women and the embracing of "othernesss." The characters aren't always fully fleshed out and the situations are definitely over the top but the breezy telling of the tale keeps the reader turning the pages even as she shakes her head at the crazy.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    One of those books I read in one sitting.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I enjoyed this book. It was fun. I laughed. I cringed. Jackie and her family move to Naples, Florida from Boston. She is a fish out of water. She also creates the Collier County Women's Literary Society. The members are the outcasts of the community but they create friendships that are lasting and strong. They are there for each other and provide support none of them had ever had. I loved the strength of these friendships and how they changed the lives of those in the group and those in their families. This is a keeper!
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This was a good quick read, somehow I ended up with a Readers Digest version, nothing wrong with that. I'm glad it found it's way onto my TBR shelf, it was about an oddly formed book club in the 60's down south. The author managed to hit upon a couple great subjects from many views and directions. I would look for more written by her!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This is a funny book, set in 1962 in what was then quiet Naples, Florida. Jackie is a transplanted Yankee not really trying to fit in. She starts a book club whose members are a bunch of other social misfits in the area. She also secretly becomes "Miss Dreamsville," host of a late-night radio show that becomes quite popular. Really enjoyed this and looking forward to the sequel.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    When a transplanted Boston housewife starts a book club in a backwater Florida village in the early 60s, it ends up being much more than any of the members bargain for.Mostly this book is about changes -- about the social changes that were shaking the new decade as feminism and civil rights took hold, and about a cold war that threatened to get very hot indeed. It's also very much about what lies beneath the surface.It's a light read generally, with some interesting insights at times. But Hearth loses points for a throwaway revelation about one of the club's members in a "postscript" to the main story, and for glossing over the huge game-changer of an unplanned pregnancy. She's also dressed it up in an unnecessary "I'm an old woman now, telling you this story" framework.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Not bad. This novel addresses difficult issues of prejudice in a fairly sugarcoated way. It's a nice feel good novel about issues grappled with in the 60's that are still being addressed today. Nothing bad happens in this novel, so if you are easily bummed out by "deep" fiction, this will be a welcome change of pace. Read it in between the tough stuff as a buffer.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This was a light read about a group of women (and one man) who were all outcasts in their small Florida town. Jackie Hart, a Bostonian who relocated to Florida in the early 1960's, brought the group together with the goal of reading books and discussing ideas - a salon of sorts. But in the end, they become so much more than that, supporting one another through some life-changing events. This was a great summertime read, fast paced and filled with interesting characters.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I enjoyed this book. It realistically portrays life in a small southern town, as well as how northerners are perceived in the south. A fish out of water, Jackie has no idea how her northern ways and words are interpreted by others in Collier County. The price she pays for this is a heavy price to pay, but is enlightening for all in the end. Hearth's writing style is easy and enjoyable. This book isn't weighted down by endless detail. She gets to the point and tells her story in an easy-going style. I look forward to reading more of her work.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Dora Witherspoon, 80, looks back fifty years to 1962 and recounts the formation of the Collier County Women’s Literary Society in Naples, Florida. She states her purpose at the beginning: to let people know “that one person can come along and change your life, and that being a misfit, as I was, doesn’t mean you won’t find friends and your place in the world.”The members of the reading group are “a little band of oddballs trying to survive in a time and place where sameness was revered.” The club members are indeed all social outcasts in the small, narrow-minded Southern town of the early 1960s: the founder is a transplanted outspoken Yankee and the other members are a closeted gay; a divorcee; a “suspiciously single” woman; a young, highly literate Black woman; a reclusive poet; and an octogenarian recently released after serving a sentence for murder.As the members meet and discuss books and events, they bond. They divulge secrets as understanding and trust develop. For Dora, the group members become “custodians of my deepest feelings.” She also adds, “We were all outcasts, but as a group we became strong.” They do remain individuals, however. The book discussions are interesting in how they reveal the viewpoints of the various readers. For example, when the group reads The Feminine Mystique, the reactions of the housewife are understandably very different from those of the black maid.It is characterization that is the strongest element in the novel. Dora emerges as a dynamic character. At the beginning, she is self-conscious and ashamed and “pretty gutless about [expressing her] opinions.” The group gives her confidence when she realizes “my new friends didn’t make me feel ashamed of being divorced. They seemed to like me, just as I was.” In the end, her newfound courage lets her “create momentum . . . launch something and see where it goes.” The other characters blossom and flourish as well, although their character changes aren’t as convincing. Towards the end, there is an explanation of what the others do with their lives, but some behave in unconvincing ways. Because of the first person point of view, their growth is not developed as Dora’s is; thus, the paths they choose for their lives do not seem totally credible.The book touches on a number of subjects, albeit some rather superficially: race, sexuality, freedom. Besides that of the power of friendship, another major theme is how appearances are deceiving. Dora speaks of the “false pictures” people create in their minds. As it turns out, each of the reading club’s members proves to be more than what others think. In particular, the mental images the townspeople have of Miss Dreamsville, the sexy-voiced hostess of a late-night radio show, are a wonderful way of emphasizing this theme. When her real identity is revealed, everyone is shocked.Though serious social issues are touched on, the book is by no means humourless. There are funny scenes; some, like the Swamp Buggy Festival, are outrageously hilarious while others, such as the library board trustees objecting to books about pornography and Lincoln, are more subtle in their humour. This novel struck me as a fairly authentic look at life in a small Southern town in early 1960s America. Some of the minor characters are stereotypical bigots and there are some predictable events, but it is nonetheless a good read. Social issues are not discussed in depth, but that is part of the book’s charm, and there is certainly sufficient material to give one pause to think.Note: I was provided with a copy of this book by the publisher via netgalley.com.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This was so much fun! I loved every character in this book so much I didn’t want it to end! This gang of misfits turned Naples on its heel and I loved every minute of it!Mrs. Jackie Hart is a northerner transplanted to Naples in the early 1960’s and since she’s a Yankee she doesn’t really fit in so she starts a Women’s Literary Society and the group that shows up is also on the outside, we have a divorcee, a woman just out of prison for killing her husband, a colored (their words) girl, a man who they let join because they all know he is a homosexual, a woman the whole town calls Plain Jane and the librarian, this group of outsiders and misfits ends up being about so much more than reading books.This book had humor, drama, and life lessons what I loved about it was the way these and women (and Robbie Lee) came together as strangers with nothing in common and ended up the best of friends and truly involved in each other’s lives. I just wish it had been longer or maybe has a sequel in the works! I liked the historical details of the time, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the KKK, women’s rights and women trying to find their place in the world, civil rights. The Cuban Missile Crisis chapter I thought was well done and really gave a feel to how people in Florida must have felt.I also liked in the acknowledgments finding out that Jackie was modeled after the authors MIL who was the actual Miss Dreamsville. And this author’s non-fiction work about the Delany sisters’ is one I have been meaning to read for awhile so will be bumping that up on the TBR pile. I hope she will write more fiction because I will be first in line to read more from this author. I will also be buying a paper copy of this book for my library my patrons will love it!4 StarsFull Disclosure I received this book from netgalley for a fair and unbiased review.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Set in the 1960s, Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women’s Literary Society takes place in a small Florida town that finds itself stuck in the past while several of its citizens yearn for the future. When the Hart family from Boston move to town, they get that taste in the form of Mrs. Jackie Hart. Soon after her arrival, Jackie forms a book club that attracts those members of society that don’t fit into the ante-bellum ideology of the town: a black woman, a convicted murderer, a divorcee, and a close homosexual. Together, they will challenge the social norms and forge bonds of friendship that last a lifetime. I absolutely loved the narrative voice of this novel, that often times carries a humorous tone. The characters are endearing and you want to learn more about them. The storyline holds much promise as it brings up topics of segregation, stigmatisms surrounding homosexuality in the 1960s, and feminism. However, the meager 254 pages do not allow any of these issues to be explored in much detail. This novel just scrapes the surface of all of the serious issues that are brought up within its plot and never really delves deeply into any of them, almost as if the author was afraid of the novel taking on too serious of a tone. I appreciate that this novel is intended to be a light-hearted read, which is why I still rated it four stars.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    What a quick and fun read, full of books, misfits and southern charm.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Remember Jello salads? Even if you don't, like me, this book is a treat for any reader who enjoys Southern fiction. Picture yourself back in 1962 in the sleepy, sunbaked Southern town of Naples, Florida. A little fishing village by the sea. A town of maybe 800 people. A town where the number of Christian churches is surpassed only by the number of its bait-and-tackle shops. A town where racial integration in the school system hasn't been established and where there is an evening curfew that only applies to Negroes. A redneck town and proud of it. Witness the arrival in town of the Hart family from Boston, and more particularly the arrival of Jackie Hart, a red head with an hourglass figure, who will turn the town upside down, and not in the way you think. Well, not quite in the way you think. When Jackie establishes the Collier County Women's Literary Society, comprised of herself, a divorced post-office worker, a middle aged woman with a secret who likes to write poetry, the town librarian, an elderly woman recently returned from serving ten years in jail, the town's obvious homosexual and a young Negro girl with aspirations of college and a teaching career - i.e., the non-Junior League crowd - more than a few eyebrows are raised. While our 'Yankee' finds her way through the minefield of Southern do's and don'ts, the local radio station starts to run a late night program with a mysterious female deejay with the handle of "Miss Dreamsville": a sultry voice introducing songs like Patsy Cline's Crazy and Nat King Cole's Mona Lisa. Overnight, the otherwise sleepy town of Naples becomes a town that doesn't sleep as residents old and young alike spend late nights listening to her radio broadcasts. As can only be expected, the hunt is soon on to discover Miss Dreamsville's identity. Narrated as reminisces by Dora Witherspoon, the divorced post-office worker of the group, this story captures time and place with the perfection of a lemon chiffon cake. Set against the backdrop of local Southern traditions and social customs, the Cuban missile crisis, racial intolerance and literary readings of Silent Spring, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Their Eyes Were Watching God, and The Feminine Mystique, unlikely friendships are forged. Battles are fought. Secrets are laid bare. Sometimes, living in a small Southern town in 1962-1963 isn't all about perfect makeup, baking cakes and being a housewife. A wonderful cast of characters makes this a great feel good story filled with humour and spirit. On a rainy day it will bring a smile to your face, a tear to your eye and sunshine to your soul. A perfect nostalgic journey back in time.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    In Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society, eighty year old Dora 'Turtle Lady' Witherspoon relates the adventures of six unlikely friends in southern Florida during 1962. Jackie Hart maybe a 'yankee carpetbagger' but dowdy postal worker Dora can't help but admire the seemingly effortless glamour of Collier County's newest resident. Dora, recently divorced and lonely, is flattered when Jackie invites her to the inaugural meeting of the Collier County Women's Literary Society at the town's library. Seated on folding chairs in a little circle Dora is shocked to learn she is in the company of a convicted murderer, a coloured maid, a homosexual (whose mother catches gators) and a spinster, with the small group presided over by Jackie and the head librarian, Miss Lansbury. Yet as this bunch of misfits discuss the dangers of DDT (Silent Spring) and whether Holly Golighlty was a call girl or just a popular society companion (Breakfast at Tiffany's), they become friends who, in the face of the rampant bigotry, sexism and social conformity of the time, find the courage to become more than what is expected of them.The characters of Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society are colourful and appealing. I loved all of the unintentionally subversive members of the group who so simply want little else than to be who they are. The development of their friendship, spearheaded by Jackie, is heartwarming and everyone has a secret or story to share.With it's conversational tone, charming southern accent and clever wit, you might be fooled into thinking this novel is nothing more than light entertainment, but it includes a powerful message encouraging tolerance, respect and dignity. Beneath the veneer of southern civility in Collier County is a small town mired in the issues of the early 1960's, rich white men hold all the power, the Ku Klux Klan actively terrifies the local black population, women's liberation is a sinful idea and the Cuban Missile Crisis has everyone on edge. Hearth's characters confront these issues as they face the injustices of the narrow minded community.Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society is a quick and enchanting read. Funny, charming and yet thoughtful I thought it was a delight and I would love to hear more of Dora's stories.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    For fans of "southern fiction", and all readers who enjoy stories with strong characters, a bit of history, and a sense of place, this one is a sure bet. This is one of my favorite genres, and debut novelist Amy Hill Hearth, a former journalist and the author or coauthor of seven nonfiction books, including Having Our Say: The Delaney Sisters’ First 100 Years, has done a bang-up job of painting us a picture of life as it surely could have been.The story relates the formation and bonding of an unlikely group of characters in a Naples Florida in the early days of the civil rights movement (1963). While I wouldn't describe them as "the good ole days", others might. Jackie Hart, a transplanted Bostonian, has landed in Florida with her husband and three children. This deeply southern, sleepy little town seems like another planet to her sophisticated "Yankee" way of thinking. She is BORED. With the help of the local librarian, she forms the Collier County Women's Literary Society to meet weekly at the library to discuss books and ideas.Members of the group include Dora, a thirty-something divorcee who rescues snapping turtles; Plain Jane, a woman nobody seems to know much about; Robbie Lee, the town's resident homosexual who works at the Sears distribution center helping local housewives pick out curtains; Mrs. Bailey White, recently released from prison having served 11 years for killing her husband; and Priscilla a black maid who has been volunteering at the library. Together these five, along with Miss Lansbury the librarian, embark on a journey through modern reading, eschewing the old classics in favor of newer, more edgy material.In the meantime, Jackie is still somewhat stifled by the southern lifestyle and gets herself hired at the local newspaper and as the midnite to 2AM disc jockey on the local radio station. Not wanting anyone to know he's hired a Yankee, the station manager and Jackie decide to keep her identity a secret and name her MISS DREAMSVILLE. The town immediately goes into sleep deprivation staying up at night trying to figure out who she is. The group continues reading and bonding, even through some terrifying moments.The real story is not the identity of the dreamy voice, but rather the growth of the friendships and relationships formed by the group as they gradually begin to trust, to accept and to open their minds to new ideas, new friends, and new situations. It's a tear-jerker, a knee-slapper, and a fantastic read. Be sure to set aside a few hours, because you won't put it down once you begin. It's bound to be a book-club top discussion pick in the year to come.<
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The year is 1962 and Jackie Hart, wife and mother of three, has been transplanted with her family from Boston to Collier County in Florida. She does her darndest to fit in but her new neighbours don't take too kindly to Yankee interlopers. After being frozen out of existing activities, she decides to start her own and so begins the Collier County Women's Literary Society (or Salon as Jackie likes to call it). The new group is to meet at the town library and soon attracts a bevy of very likeable misfits: Jackie, of course, the unhappy housewife, the librarian whose presence is required if the group is to be allowed to use the library; a single woman called Plain Jane who writes risque articles about sex in the boardroom for magazines like Cosmo; an elderly woman just released from prison after serving a long sentence for murdering her husband; a divorcee and rescuer of injured snapping turtles; a young black woman who dreams of going to college but doubts it will ever happen; and a gay man whose mother is an ex-stripper turned alligator wrangler.In a time and town where the KKK is seen as a group of upstanding citizens and the literary society members definitely aren't, the society is bound to attract trouble including a run-in with said KKK. In fact, Miss Dreamsville manages to touch on just about every issue confronting the '60s, albeit superficially, including premarital sex, women's liberation, gay rights, environmental issues, Civil Rights, and even the Cuban Missile Crisis. Fortunately, this short novel never takes itself too seriously. Instead, this is a fun, fast read imbued with humour, heart, and more than a little southern charm.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A nostalgic look back to when women stayed home and men went to work.Jackie Hart and her family moved from Boston to a town in Florida that was definitely old fashioned. You will meet Jackie and you will also meet an unmarried librarian, an unmarried lady who secretly writes sex novels for a publisher in New York, a divorced woman who works in the Post Office, a woman just out of jail for killing her husband, a maid, and an eccentric male. This group met once a week for a book club which they call The Collier County Women's Literary Society.The characters are all quite diverse but warm and caring. Out of the blue, one of the book club members decides to do a late night radio show, and the entire town is in an uproar trying to figure out who it is especially since her name is none other than Miss Dreamsville.This book was so fun, and took you back to a different lifestyle that our mothers probably were a part of.....well, at least my mother. :). It was a simpler life but also one that was strict.It isn't a book I normally read, but I did enjoy it.....a nice light read and change of pace. It will make you laugh, but it will also make you wonder if it really would be a time period where you want to live. The characters were all different and showed that “different” is what makes the world go round. How could it all work out if we were all the same? The characters worked together perfectly in the book. It did get a little dramatic at times, but overall a fun read and one that makes note that all of us are different yet all of us are the same. 4/5This book was given to me free of charge by the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Book preview

Miss Dreamsville and the Collier County Women's Literary Society - Amy Hill Hearth

One

My name is Dora Witherspoon but most folks know me as the Turtle Lady. A long time ago, I rescued a snapping turtle the size of a truck tire from the middle of Highway 41, a move deemed so foolish it became local legend. I can’t say I’m partial to it, but here in the South, nicknames stick like bottomland mud.

I’d like to tell you a story from my younger days. I’ve been a storyteller my whole life, but I wasn’t ready to tell this one until now. It happened fifty years ago—in 1962. Parts of it are hard for me to share, but the fact is that I’m old now—eighty years of age, if you must know—and probably running out of time. I want young’uns to know about my time and place, the people I knew, and a world that’s all but gone. I want them to know that one person can come along and change your life, and that being a misfit, as I was, doesn’t mean you won’t find friends and your place in the world.

HER NAME WAS JACKIE HART, and the first time I set eyes on her was across the counter at the post office. She’d moved to Collier County with her husband and kids from, of all places, Boston. Before we knew it, she turned things upside down faster than you can say Yankee carpetbagger.

From the get-go, Jackie was a troublemaker in the eyes of the town fathers, but to the few of us who gave her a chance, her arrival in town was a godsend. She started a little reading group, bringing together the most unlikely people in town, including me. We were all outcasts, but as a group we became strong.

None of us saw these changes coming, though. Jackie was like a late-afternoon storm on the Gulf, the kind that comes from nowhere and sends even the old-time fishermen hurrying to shore. She was a surprise, that’s for sure.

I’d been working at the post office for about a year, since my divorce, and there were days—like the one when I met Jackie—that were so slow, I swear I could’ve watched my fingernails grow if I’d had a mind to. By two o’clock there wasn’t a thing to do but watch the horseflies dodge the slats of the ceiling fan. I wasn’t supposed to, but I started reading magazines that hadn’t been sorted yet. First I studied Mr. Freeland’s copy of Time magazine. But then I couldn’t resist peeking at Vogue. No one got Vogue. Whoever the person was—a Mrs. J. Hart—was new in town. The rest of the Hart family didn’t get much mail, but I had already noticed that Mrs. J. Hart got all kinds of stuff that had probably never—until now—passed through the sorting station up at Fort Myers. The New Yorker. National Geographic (generally frowned upon since it might include pictures of naked African people). And, of course, Vogue.

I kept returning to Vogue. I’m not sure I’d ever seen a copy. I was studying the clothes and models and perfume ads, and breaking post office regulation number 3651 (reading a customer’s periodical), when I heard a polite little cough and looked up. And there was Jackie.

She was wearing an enormous straw hat and a pair of sunglasses that made her look like she’d just left a party hosted by Sophia Loren on the French Riviera. Her skin was very white, as if she’d never encountered a single ray of sun, and her hair, peeking out from under her hat, was what my mama would have called the barn’s on fire red. Add to it the way she carried herself and the result was something we rarely saw in Collier County—glamour.

No doubt about it, she was the most interesting person to show up at my postal counter since Mrs. Bailey White was finally let out of jail and moved back home the year before. While the peculiar Mrs. Bailey White was a curiosity, the stunning woman now standing before me was something else entirely. You could be sure she’d never been called mousy, a word I often thought of in connection with myself. I felt like a hick in my humble seersucker dress with the self-tie belt, and was glad she couldn’t see my penny loafers. She had what Mama called an hourglass figure, which made my flat little chest and rear end seem positively boyish in comparison.

"Oh, is that the new copy of Vogue?" she asked, with an innocence that might have been phony but I wasn’t sure. She spun the magazine around and examined the cover.

Hm, she said. I do believe this is my copy.

I would have died of shame except I wanted to see what she would do next. Yet all she did was stand absolutely still, waiting for me to answer.

Yes, ma’am, I said, and my voice came out kind of hushed. I’m very sorry. I admit I was violating post office regulations. Please, I added, don’t tell my boss or I could lose my job.

She took off her sunglasses and looked at me, eyeball to eyeball. Her eyes were large and round and skillfully made up. "I would never do that, she said, adding, but in the future, could I read my magazine first, please? And then you can borrow it when I’m done? Would that be all right?" Everything came out as a question.

I was pretty sure—but not 100 percent—that she wasn’t being sarcastic. I pulled together the rest of her mail and gave it to her. She walked to the door, then stopped. Looking back at me, she asked, What else do you like to read?

I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d asked for directions to the nearest pool hall. "Well, um, sometimes I read Life magazine, I said. And Ladies’ Home Journal."

Do you like novels?

I shrugged my shoulders. I haven’t read too many.

Well, once I am settled, I am thinking of asking the library to start a women’s reading group. I was thinking we could call it the Collier County Women’s Literary Society. Would you like to be part of it?

Well . . . okay. I was not really sure I meant it, although a part of me was deeply flattered.

What, may I ask, is your name?

Dora, I said. Dora Witherspoon.

Less than a month later, I started seeing flyers around town announcing the first meeting. A women’s literary society—what the hell is that? my boss, Marty, muttered. Jackie had posted a flyer on the post office bulletin board, next to the Collier County mosquito spraying schedule and the pulled pork fund-raiser that the Masons made everyone suffer through every year.

It’s just people who like to read books, I said.

You mean like the Bible?

I don’t know. Maybe cookbooks. Maybe a few novels.

Novels? Marty raised an eyebrow.

Well, how much trouble can we get in, reading books at the library? I said, a little irritated. As a matter of fact, I may go myself. Marty could be condescending, and he was convinced everything was a plot hatched by Communists.

Oh, I guess you’re right, he said finally.

Now I felt like I had to go. Besides, maybe I would learn something new. I wasn’t what you’d call worldly. In fact, I’d never been out of Florida. But I’d had two years at the junior college in Saint Petersburg, and while it was just a hundred and twenty miles up the Gulf, the experience had been an eye-opener. One of my professors was from Nevada. Another, from New Orleans. My fellow lodgers at the rooming house where I lived were women who had either retired to Saint Petersburg or (in the case of one lady, whose story I never learned) seemed to be running away from something up north. From them I learned about places like Ohio and Pennsylvania. There was one lady, a Mrs. Jamesway, who had a subscription to a big-city newspaper called the Toledo Blade. Even though it arrived in the mail three or four days after it was published, it was still fun to read.

After I finished junior college, I married Darryl and moved to Ocala. That’s horse country, in north-central Florida. Like me, Darryl was from Collier County—I’d known him my whole life. But while I was at school, he started a small construction company and somehow got a job building a gorgeous new estate near Ocala for some rich folks from Kentucky. The barns Darryl built were nicer than any house I’d ever been in. The owners—a man and his wife in their fifties—talked about impossibly wonderful places they traveled to often, like London, New York, and San Francisco.

Any dreams I had for the future ended with my divorce. My parents were dead, I’m an only child, and I was inching up on my thirtieth birthday. I had nowhere else to go except the little cottage in Naples that had been in my father’s family for three generations and was spitting distance from the Gulf. I needed a job, but the only person who would hire me was my cousin Marty, who ran the post office. Everyone else treated me like I had mange.

I didn’t have high hopes when I went to the first meeting of the Collier County Women’s Literary Society. To my surprise, seven people showed up, which was five more than I expected. We sat on folding chairs in a little circle—Jackie, me, Miss Lansbury (the librarian), Mrs. Bailey White (the old lady who had returned from jail the previous year and was always called by her entire name as a sign of respect for her age), a young colored girl wearing a formal maid’s uniform, a woman in her fifties who wrote poetry and said her name was Plain Jane, and the town’s one and only Sears employee, Robbie-Lee Simpson, Collier County’s only obvious homosexual.

Miss Lansbury spoke first. Welcome! she said in her brisk, pleasant librarian voice. She wore a sleeveless sheath in pale green with a floral-patterned scarf that was perfectly matched. I tried to guess her age and concluded she was probably about thirty-five. She was still considered new in town—having lived here only ten years or so—and suspiciously single. However, seeing as she was a librarian, people let it go. After all, she was that rare bird—a career girl—and destined to be an old maid, a problem of her own making. She had beautiful black hair thanks to her Spanish ancestors. Mrs. Jacqueline Hart—she gestured politely toward Jackie—who just moved to town from Boston, has spearheaded this new group. Mrs. Hart, would you like to tell us a little more about yourself?

Jackie looked surprised but rose to the occasion. Well, my family moved here exactly one month ago. My husband, Ted, is the new business manager for the Toomb family. We have three children—twin girls who are fourteen and a son who is twelve.

She didn’t have to explain who the Toomb family was. They were one of the most powerful families in South Florida, though a rung or two down from the Colliers. Everyone had heard that old Mr. Toomb, who wanted a better grasp of how things worked in the North, had gone out and hired a business manager from Boston. The man he hired was Ted Hart, a World War Two Army veteran who had put himself through college on the GI Bill.

Oh, Jackie added, and please call me Jackie.

You mean like the Jackie in the White House? Mrs. Bailey White asked lightly.

Well, not quite like her, no, Jackie said and smiled. "I have a northern accent, that’s true. But I’m not skinny and I couldn’t hope to be as elegant as that Jackie."

But the comparison, in one way, was striking. I couldn’t imagine Jackie Kennedy or Jackie Hart adapting very easily to life in our little town. People think of Naples as one of the richest, swankiest places on earth, but back in 1962 it was a sunbaked southern backwater no bigger than a cow pie. There were maybe eight hundred people living here, a number that grew to a whopping twelve hundred or so in the winter when the Yankees would come down to fish for sea bass and snook. Naples was a redneck town and proud of it.

I have to admit that moving here was a pretty raw deal. I say that even though I’m from Collier County and have at least a smidgen of pride. But relocating here must have been especially shocking to Jackie. She was, clearly, a Boston girl through and through. Cultured. Progressive. All that Yankee stuff we Southerners find so irritating.

No one knew what to say next, so Miss Lansbury jumped in again. Well, I must say I am delighted. Thrilled. I think the rest of us know who each other are, right? Oh, one more thing: Robbie-Lee, this is supposed to be a women’s literary society, so you shouldn’t really be here. But if everyone is okay with it, I suppose it’s all right. Does anyone have any objections?

No one did, so Robbie-Lee stayed.

I was actually more surprised that the Negro girl had come. You never saw colored folk at the town library. Her being there was bold, even reckless. Then again, what would we have done to her? Given her the evil eye until she left? Made a fuss and told her to leave? None of the rest of us sitting around our little circle seemed to be looking daggers in her direction. Maybe the Collier County Women’s Literary Society would be that rarest of organizations—an integrated one.

I suppose it’s still basically true, but in those days, white people tended to fall into three categories. There were those who went out of their way to harm or hold back Negroes in any way they could. Then there were those who never gave Negroes much thought and really didn’t care. And then there was a small group of white folks who felt badly about the cruel way Negroes were treated and wanted to see things improve.

I was raised to be in the last category. My father, who I don’t remember well, was said to be a regular old redneck. But Mama was a nurse, and during her training someone had drilled into her head that all people were human and should be treated accordingly. She worked for the only doctor in town, and sometimes, when she was needed at the four-bed hospital, she would treat colored folks who came to the back door. But she didn’t advertise that she did this and told me to keep quiet too. Strange to think you could get hurt because you’d been helping someone.

Mostly, though, I’d had little interaction with Negroes. We lived in different parts of town and belonged to different churches. The Supreme Court of the USA had famously decided, back in the fifties, that schools were supposed to be integrated, but here in Collier County they apparently hadn’t gotten the message. The white kids were still picked up by a shiny yellow school bus and taken to their well-kept schools—grammar, junior high, and a new high school north of town. The colored kids were picked up by a bus that predated World War Two and looked like it had survived (more or less) Hurricane Donna. The so-called colored bus went in the opposite direction, to a single school—first through twelfth grades. I had never been there—I don’t think any white person ever had—but I heard the place was a shambles.

Now, if my family had been rich, we would have had colored servants, but Mama, being a widowed nurse with little money to spare, did her own cooking, cleaning, and ironing. Same with everyone else in our part of town. We’d see Negroes now and then, but they didn’t talk to you and you didn’t talk to them. I thought they were the unfriendliest people on earth. Only when I was older did I realize they were avoiding us to stay alive.

As we sat around the little circle with Miss Lansbury as our leader, I tried not to stare at the colored girl. I wondered what she would do about the curfew (eight p.m. in the summer, six p.m. in the winter, when nightfall came earlier), which applied only to Negroes. But she herself brought up the topic. My name is Priscilla Harmon and I would like to be part of this group. She had taken off her maid’s cap and perched a

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