Review: Remember Whose Little Girl You Are, by Ellen Nichols

About the book, Remember Whose Little Girl You Are

• Koehler Books: May 3, 2022
• Paperback: 128 pages

Remember Whose Little Girl You Are captures the flavor of the Deep South like no author since Eudora Welty or Flannery O’Connor. Ellen Nichols captures the tenor of small-town Southern life in the fifties and sixties, with its vicissitudes and hilarity. One is captured with her openness and drawn deeply into the dialogue-so much as to, according to one reader, sometimes feel guilty of spying.

Read it and see if you want those times back-or are just relieved they’re gone.

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About the author, Ellen Nichols

Ellen grew up in the American Deep South, but with a spirit of adventure, she went up to Toronto, Canada, to go to graduate school, and stayed 50 years.

No, she wasn’t a slow student, she just ended up getting married, raising a family, and building a successful career in charitable fundraising. She has been writing for a living for years, but was always writing for someone else. Her grant proposals, direct marketing letters, and especially her thank you letters, are legend. Her persuasive writing skills raised millions of dollars.

Those Canadians loved her tales about her southern life so much, she decided to write them down and they became Remember Whose Little Girl You Are.

Recently, she moved back down south where she lives on Santa Rosa Sound near Pensacola. And yes, she is now writing about all her Canadian adventures.

You can learn more about Ellen on her website.

My Thoughts

At only 112 pages Remember Whose Little Girl You Are, with it’s cute cover of a girl in knee-socks, is deceptive. It seems like a light, fluffy read – and parts of it are light (though none of it is fluffy) but it’s really a very rich collection of memories and anecdotes, mostly from the author’s childhood, and early adulthood.

Born a preacher’s daughter in America’s deep South, Nichols grew up during the Civil Rights movement, and was a supporter. Her stories from that time are the strongest in this collection – which really reads more like a an anthology of essays than a single cohesive piece. That’s not a bad thing, but the structure feels a little bit unintentional.

What really sings is the author’s writing voice. The conceit of her book is that she’s sharing memories of her life after losing a parent, and you can hear her Southern identity and her Canadian one in the language she uses, in her phrasing, and in her descriptions, which are vivid and compelling.

I look forward to more from Ms. Nichols.

Goes well with sweet tea and poutine.