This short novel, Beignet and Grandpa Au Lait, is told in first person by two dogs. It is actually very autobiographical, but was written in a fictional manner.
I was born in New Orleans and spent my childhood there. Although I haven’t resided there in years, I was devastated in 2005 when Hurricane Katrina hit.
At that time, my cousin Carol and her family were living in Metarie. Katrina resurfaced colorful memories of time spent with my immediate family when we all lived there together.
The memories brought with them a host of southern belles.
Beignet and Au Lait’s stories are my New Orleans roots. Their names, Beignet and Au Lait, came from the Café Du Monde desserts and coffee that I have enjoyed when revisiting New Orleans. And since this type of oddly shaped, powdered, sugary, fried donut with the accompanying café au lait was made famous at the French Quarter’s flagship outdoor café, it made perfect sense to give my two narrators these names.
The hurricane, some colorful memories and our family pet, all created a desire write this story.
I had written several screenplays through the years, then I began my astrology series of thrillers (My Scorpio Soul and My Aries Secrets). I acquired my daughter’s puppy by default, and soon I was writing this little adventure, slice of life story from his point of view.
My own recollections are emboldened with smells of fried chicken, gumbo and jambalaya, ornamented with Southern-styled accessories for dresses and pant suits like pearls and matching pearl earrings.
I still can hear the distant hum of jazz resonating through that balmy breeze, and as the saints continue marching, I wouldn’t trade my New Orleans heart for anything.