Tag Archives: 1954 Powder Blue Pickup by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

When It Doesn’t Make Sense, Follow the $$$

Probably the most memorable thing I learned from my birth father, who was a US Navy SEAL who served many tours of duty in Vietnam — including, and probably most importantly, during the fall of Saigon — was his advice to me one morning, when we were sitting at his kitchen table, drinking coffee:

“When something doesn’t make sense, but it keeps on happening, someone is getting rich off of it.”

He told me this 31 years ago. It’s uncanny, how many times I have had cause to remember that piece of advice over the years, especially when I lived in NYC, and how so many seemingly inexplicable things would then suddenly make sense.

Last evening, I was driving out on Highway 16 in the dark; safe in the peaceful foothills of Appalachia here in Muskingum County, and I was trying to make sense of why on Earth the Governor of our State declared such a strange C* VID curfew yesterday.

We are only allowed out between 6am to 10pm — except of course if we need to run an errand of some kind.

I’m serious, okay? If you really, really think about it, that is a really weird sort of curfew: You must stay in, unless you have to go out.

(To be serious, though: he is closing bars and restaurants early without saying that he’s closing bars and restaurants early.)

At first, I was thinking, well he’s probably trying to keep the Republicans happy by not making it a real curfew, and also trying to keep the Leftists happy by pretending this will somehow keep us safe from the alleged C* VID upsurge…

(Yes, that virus for which we now have 2 highly effective vaccines as well as therapeutics that will likely cure you if you have to go to the hospital.) (Yes, that terrifying virus…) (At this point, you’re probably more afraid of getting shingles if you’ve once had the chicken pox.)

Anyway.

As I thought about the predicament the Governor must be in — he is a Republican Governor who has been very pro- Tr**p throughout his Administration, however we did have our fair share of extremely expensive and destructive riots in our larger cities this past summer; it made me then think of Operation C* VID Panic, which is in full swing now, all over the world  (a fake panic, IMO, that is engineered to attempt to control us through fear and distract us from the mounting allegations of v* ter fra*d and a S*cial* st takeover).

And I thought, if this is indeed a fake panic, and the Governor is indeed a loyal Republican, why is he behaving like this? Doing something that doesn’t really make sense?

I tried going the route of following the money, which led me to think about the violence that is expected to happen when they announce Tr**p won by a landslide and that the v*te was r*gged.

And then suddenly I wondered if the weird curfew is designed to keep as many people off the streets as possible when/if the violence they are predicting does indeed break out. (Remember: They come by night.)

It would suddenly cause everything to make sense, right?

Well, I guess we’ll just see.

However, I am also noticing that gasoline prices are once again plummeting, and my utility bills are much lower than they’ve ever been, especially for this colder weather, where the furnace needs to be on, 24/7, and more lights are on because it gets dark earlier.

And I thought: now, that is very interesting, isn’t it? (Meaning, Tr**p’s plan to keep resources and workers located here in the US to make things more affordable here…)

Last evening, I listened to Bongino’s show on rumble — by the way, my prayers go out to him today as he begins chemotherapy.  And his show is a great emotional release to me these days, because he not only gives you the facts you won’t find in the mainstream, but he is also funny and it feels really, really good to laugh right now.  (Even at myself, because the way he makes fun of Liberals is really funny.)

However, this morning, I listened to both of the X*2 R*p*rts, and even while they bring good news overall, it is still really, really disturbing to hear about what is at play, here. (And it affects the entire world, frankly.)

And when I was done listening, it was still dark out and I stood at my bedroom window, taking in all this disturbing information while looking out at the peaceful street in this tiny little village, tucked safely in the rural foothills of the Hinterlands. And it was kind of frightening, to be a 60 year-old woman, alone in the world with some cats. And yet thinking about how impossible it is for me to not always try to fight for the Constitution in whatever way I can. I’ve been like this my whole life — I’m 100% pro-Constitution.

And I thought, well, I’m an illegitimate daughter of a Navy SEAL, and an officially unrecognized Daughter of the American Revolution. I guess it’s just in my blood to fight for this stuff.

I know what there is to be afraid of in the world. I’ve already been  raped several times, I’ve been beaten, robbed, had my life savings gambled away by someone I loved, and all the people I thought I trusted at various times in my life, did not have my back — and it was the unexpected strangers who were actually  there for me instead.

And I’ve been involved with the Mob and I know they’re scary. And I’ve been involved with the hardcore porn producers and I know that most of them had true hearts of gold. And I’ve come up against the Federal Government wanting to seriously curtail my right to free speech by threatening me with prison and that was fucking scary.

All of it has been fucking scary. Life outside one’s comfort zone can get truly fucking scary. But I survived all of that. It often killed my bank account, but oh well.

And yet what we are up against now — the scope of it — is scarier than anything I’ve lived through so far. Because I honestly did not believe it could ever come to America. I honestly didn’t.

But, fear or not, I will just keep f*ghting, at least to help get information out there.

Okay.

Don’t forget that Nick Cave’s album, Idiot Prayer: Nick Cave Alone at Alexandra Palace comes out this Friday!!

And Cave Things also released some really pretty Nick Cave-designed prayer cards yesterday. They are each £4 plus shipping. (That price sounds very reasonable by usual Cave Things standards. However, when you consider that prayer cards are usually free at funerals, well, hmmmm….) Anyway!!! They are pretty. Here’s one:

I leave you with the official blurbs from my two upcoming works of new erotica, which will be published later this month by Black Lotus Books. These are intended for adults only, so don’t read them if you’re easily offended by graphic sex. Thanks.

Cover art for my new erotic short story, coming in November from Black Lotus Books

“Half-Moon Bride” by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

A young woman discovers that she is a half-moon futanari –that she takes on the genitals of a man at every full moon, becoming a hermaphrodite for 24 hours. On the same day, she also learns she is intended to be the bride of the mysterious Oracle who lives in the palace in the mountains. The Oracle is a full-package futanari of astonishing proportions. Together, as they are both half-man, half-woman while the moon is full, they experience a wedding night of extreme sex that stretches the little half-moon bride to her limits, and then beyond them, when her virginity is repeatedly taken by the Oracle in more ways than she could have ever imagined. A love story of extremes and questionable consent throughout; “Half-Moon Bride” will make you squirm and leave you breathless.

1954 Powder Blue Pickup by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

A young man with a pickup truck in 1950s America, navigates the strict sexual morals of the era by introducing a pretty, unmarried virgin to the true joys of anal sex – meaning that, technically, backdoor sex saves her virginity for her wedding night and that no one will ever be the wiser. The two agree to embark on an affair of unbridled licentious behavior, with no strings attached, in the privacy of his pickup truck, out on the edge of town. However, neither of them is prepared for just how well suited they are to each other’s carnal appetites, as the young woman is introduced to more and more sexual surprises. Extreme anal, oral, three-ways, and gangbangs overtake their growing attraction to one another, until they are each forced to admit that they’ve crossed over a line they can’t come back from without each other. 1954 Powder Blue Pickup is a love story that explores the hidden world of women’s unapologetic desires. Extreme anal, extreme gangbangs, and questionable consent throughout – not for the feint of heart.

All righty!! Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a good Wednesday, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with Tom Petty & Mudcrutch. And a few videos below that!! I love you guys. See ya!

“Scare Easy”

My love’s an ocean
You better not cross it
Yeah I’ve been the distance
And I need some rest
Yeah I had somebody once
And damn if I lost her
I’ve been running
Like a man possessed

I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart
When I’m under the gun
You can break my heart
And I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy
For no one

Yeah, I am a loser
At the top of my game
I should have known
To keep an eye on you
Now I got a sky
That ain’t never the same
Yeah, I got a dream
That don’t ever come true

I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart
When I’m under the gun
You can break my heart
But I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy
For no one

Sun going down
On a canyon wall
I got a soul
That ain’t never been blessed
Yeah and I’m a shadow
At the back of the hall
Yeah, I got a sin
I ain’t never confessed

And I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart
When I’m under the gun
You can break my heart
And I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy
For no one

And I don’t scare easy
Don’t fall apart
When I’m under the gun
You can break my heart
But I ain’t gonna run
I don’t scare easy
For no one

© 2008 Tom Petty

The link below will take you to a MUST-SEE video!!

https://www.foxnews.com/opinion/tucker-carlson-coronavirus-pandemic-lockdowns-great-reset

Oops! We Might have Been A Little Pre-Occupied!

My new publisher emailed me yesterday, wondering where the book blurbs were for my new erotic (very long) short story, “Half-Moon Bride,” and my erotic novella, 1954 Powder Blue Pickup. Both of which are being published later this month.

Please consult your calendars and note that it is already November 17th…. !!!

It almost seems like I totally forgot because I’ve been way too involved in being a d*g*tal soldier in the ongoing attempted coup d’etat!!

Ooops!!!

So I gotta get those blurbs written here this morning, ASAP, before the editors get to their desks.

And, also, please, gang — don’t forget that the staged reading of my play, Tell My Bones, happens this coming Sunday evening (7pm Eastern Time). You can RSVP to receive the link to the streaming event — it is ALL FREE!!

Okay, so was there news yesterday, or what? Man. I could hardly take it all in.

If you’re new to the conversation, or just now realizing that the US is in the midst of a floundering coup, the best advise anyone can give or receive right now is to stay away from mainstream media.

This is information warfare, of the worst kind — blatant lies are being generated. Seek sources that do not claim that B* den is the pr*s* dential E*l*ct.

He is not. Nothing gets decided — in the best of times, which these are not — until December 14th. That is the law.

Also — watch out for Operation C* VID Panic. It is in full swing now.

99% of C* VID cases recover.

M* sks do not work. M* sks equal a violation of free speech.

L* ck d* wns do not work. They equal a violation of your right to assemble.

Spikes in C* VID? Really? False positives, anyone?? El*n M*sk, anyone? Multiplied by actual conversations with tiny town nurses on the front lines here in Ohio…

Also —

26,000 heart attack deaths were falsely attributed to C* VID in the US.

7000 deaths by poisoning were falsely attributed to C* VID here in the US.

At least one congenital heart failure death, right here in the Hinterlands, falsely attributed to C* VID, so I know it is happening.

Vaccines that are now 90 and 95% effective against the virus will be ready for the front line workers  in December. There will be 25 million doses generated every month.

99% of the virus cases are not lethal.  It is like having the flu. If you are hospitalized, therapeutics are now available to help cure you, if you are not at-risk from other life-threatening complications (just like the flu).

The stock market is at a record high.  They expect to break another record today. Fewer and fewer people are dwindling away on unemployment here in the US; a whole lot of people have gone back to work.

    • M* sks do not work. M* sks equal a violation of free speech.
    • L* ck d* wns do not work. They equal a violation of your right to assemble.

So why was the entire State of California put into extreme l*ck d* wn again yesterday?

Why are (certain) Governors behaving almost as if they are a Socialist reg *me?

Curiouser and curiouser, gang. Although not at all amusing to those who are experiencing l* ck d*wns for no valid reasons whatsoever. (Ohio is also having renewed issues now, too. So far, no l* ck d* wns, though.)

Remember: if this stuff worked, there wouldn’t be these renewed (alleged) spikes of the virus.  (Yes, a virus that now has vaccines and therapeutics to treat it.) People, please use your heads on this, regardless of your political affiliations in “normal” times.

Operation C*VID Panic in progress…

Okay. So. Nick Cave sent out a really cute Red Hand File yesterday, about humor and haikus. You can read it here.

And don’t forget, next Thursday morning — yes, Thanksgiving!! At the refreshing hour of 5am, if you live in the Eastern Time Zone — Nick Cave, Blixa Bargeld, and Mick Harvey will be deconstructing Murder Ballads in the chat room on Bad Seed TeeVee!! I, for one, just can’t wait!

Cold Cases II – Murder Ballads

 

 

All righty. Let me get to work here on those book blurbs.

Have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. The videos below the music will disturb you but overall, give you a LOT of hope!! Seriously. NO ONE IS ROLLING OVER & PLAYING DEAD. You gotta watch them. Or, as the X *2 R* p*ort said last night, “The evidence will blow the minds of every person in this country…”

Okay, thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

An Odd But Lovely Little Morning in Crazeysburg!

The good news is that the official publishing contract for 1954 Powder Blue Pickup came through during the night, so it is now signed and returned!!! I am just super excited about that, gang. I really love that crazy little book.

It is filthy as hell, with a minimal story arc — although it does have a couple of character arcs, so that’s pretty cool! But seriously, I absolutely love that book. And even if I hadn’t written it, I would read it and think, Wow, this is the best book I’ve ever read!! And then I’d wonder, Wow, who wrote this amazing book? And then I’d get on Kickstarter and start a fundraiser to make a documentary film all about the obscure writer of 1954 Powder Blue Pickup, the best book ever written.

You know, this is kind of interesting. Many years ago, I wrote an erotic short story, published by an underground zine in San Fransisco, and it was loosely based on a boy I used to babysit when I was 16, who had a serious crush on me. And he was like the horniest little kid, ever.  Which presented a serious challenge to me because I am absolutely 100% not a pedophile. And even at age 16, I was extremely maternal.

The last I had heard about him, back in the 1980s after I moved to NYC, was that he had joined the Navy and I remember thinking how odd it was that they allowed 10-year-old boys to join the Navy — because I simply could not believe he was already old enough to join the Navy. But the story I wound up writing stemmed more from that thought that he actually was old enough to be in the Navy.

Anyway, I found out a couple weeks ago that he is still alive, and still lives in Ohio, although he lives up in Cleveland now — AND — he’s a really powerful State Supreme Court Judge. I found that really just astounding and really kind of amusing. Remembering what he was like as an indescribably horny 10-year-old.

Ah well. Life does indeed go on. But I saw a photo of him and he has all this grey hair now, but he looks really kind and compassionate. Like he is probably a very good Judge.

Well, my dinner last night with Kevin did not happen because the worst storm imaginable suddenly blew in out of nowhere. Torrential rain, thunder, lightning, and really strong winds. The wind was blowing everything, everywhere.  So we postponed the dinner, which disappointed me because I really wanted an update on my play, plus he has those promotional postcards ready for me to start sending out. But the cool news is that I saw 3 rainbows while the storm was in the process of passing over.

Literally, 3 rainbows. And I have not seen a rainbow since I was about 9 years old. It was so cool.

And my other friend Kevin is supposed to fly back from Montana today, although he isn’t planning on staying in Ohio for very long. So I’m not sure when he’s planning to come out here and get his 1965 VW camper van from out of my barn. But whenever he does make it out here, I know he will be impressed with the barn’s new roof, and the new barn door! Plus, it will be really nice to see him.

Well, that’s kind of it around here today, gang. I’ve had sort of an odd morning here.  As usual, I’ve been up and out of bed since 4am, but for the most part, I sat on my bed in the dark, drank my coffee and stared out the window at the wind blowing the branches of the maple tree outside my window. Even with that terrible wind last evening, most of its leaves are still on the branches. So it was sort of hauntingly beautiful to look at.

And while I sat and stared, I listened to “Insider” by Tom Petty (with a supporting vocal by Stevie Nicks, 1981), over and over. I’m not a huge Stevie Nicks fan at all, but I do love how she sounded when she sang with Tom Petty.

Anyway, I listened to that for quite a long time and I grappled with reality — but mostly the reality that other people consider “reality,” not necessarily the reality that I call reality. And I guarantee you, those are two distinctly parallel lines that will never meet. So I either go crazy trying to see the world the way other people see it, or just mind my own business and keep to myself and let life happen and just sit here and write and go less crazy. Even though that version is extremely lonely.

So it’s a weird morning here. But I do hope to spend some time focusing on “Novitiate” (the new erotic short story in progress) and maybe even making some good progress with that. We shall see.

Meanwhile, have a nice Saturday, wherever you are in the world, gang. Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my sitting-in-the-dark-drinking-coffee-and-staring-out-at-the-tree music from this morning, in those wee hours before dawn! Listen, ponder, enjoy!! I love you guys. See ya.

“Insider”

You’ve got a dangerous background
And everything you’ve dreamed of
Yeah you’re the Dark Angel
It don’t show when you break up
and I’m the one who ought to know
I’m the one left in the dust
Yeah I’m the broken-hearted fool
Who was never quite enough

[Chorus:]
I’m an insider, I been burned by the fire
And I’ve had to live with some hard promises
I’ve crawled through the briars — I’m an insider

It’s a circle of deception
It’s a hall of strangers
It’s a cage without a key
You can feel the danger
And I’m the one who ought to know
I’m the one you couldn’t trust
I’m the lonely silent one
I’m the one left in the dust

[Chorus]

I’ll bet you’re his masterpiece
I’ll bet you’re his self-control
Yeah you’ll become his legacy
His quiet world of white and gold
And I’m the one who ought to know
I’m the one you left to rust
Not one of your twisted friends
I’m the one you couldn’t love

[Chorus]

© 1981 Tom Petty

It Was Just One of Those Days Here in Crazeysburg!

Because I fell and bruised my thigh beyond my ability to comprehend (if you are on your computer, you can see my Instagram photo from yesterday down below, which shows the awesome bruise and just how swelled up it got), I wound up spending a huge portion of yesterday in bed.

Not because I couldn’t walk, but because the pain was excruciating.

But today, even though the bruise is obviously still there and still swollen, the pain is really minimal.

And, while CBD oil did nothing to stop that kind of pain, it did calm me the fuck down and made everything in my world seem manageable. And by “manageable” I guess I mean  “just go to bed and stream The Monkees and forget about everything else in the world. ”

Oh, and I should mention here that I wound up liking that documentary, Hey, Hey We’re The Monkees, which I had started watching the other day. It was very informative and emotional.

Anyway. I also slept a lot yesterday, seeing as how I was already in bed. I didn’t get out of bed until after 5am today, which is later than I’ve been doing for quite a few weeks now.

So nothing new has been done to the new short story “Novitiate.” And at this point, if it is getting confusing:

  • The Guitar Hero Goes Home is now available in print with the corrected cover and the corrected text. (Also eBook — Amazon)
  • “Half-Moon Bride” will be available as a stand alone eBook in a few weeks (with my new publisher)
  • 1954 Powder Blue Pickup will be coming out in print before the year is over,  also with my new publisher
  • “Novitiate” will be part of what I currently call The Muse Revisited Vol. 4, which will also include my more popular “taboo erotica” short stories and novellas from the scope of my career. That will come out in print with my new publisher, as well, but probably not until early 2021 (especially if I don’t quit falling down on my kitchen porch).

So that’s what’s going on there, in erotica land.

In non-erotica land, the staged reading of my play, Tell My Bones, will premier online on Sunday evening EST, November 22nd. It will be free, but you will need to RSVP at an eventbrite link, which I will give to you when I have it. And if you miss the premier, you will have a window of maybe 3-5 days to watch it anyway.

Okay!

So Cave Things announced yesterday that you can pre-order the following really cute picture discs, each have one song on them from Idiot Prayer: Nick Cave Alone at Alexandra Palace, which is being released as an album and also a film in November. Here are the picture discs, drawn by Nick Cave (I believe they are each £30, except that there are only 500 copies in each title, so you need to pre-order right away).

And with that, I’m also gonna close. So have a really nice Wednesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang!! I love you guys. See ya!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coffee, Sunrise, Fall

What could be nicer, right?

I’m trying to not notice the lack of summer around here and focus only on how beautiful the morning is here in Crazeysburg. And it is actually really beautiful. And it’s already gotten up to a walloping 50 degrees Fahrenheit!! Yay!

Anyway.

Yesterday was so weird.

I got a lot done. Finished the rather complicated manuscript formatting they needed for 1954 Powder Blue Pickup and then sent it off. I will keep you posted!! (I never like to be 100% sure about something until I have the signed contract.) (I did get the signed contract back for “Half-Moon Bride” on Tuesday, btw. So that’s a go!)

Then I FINALLY fixed the formatting for the print edition of The Guitar Hero Goes Home !!! And I uploaded it. Hallelujah!! However… the new cover design Valerie did that fixes the problem of the old cover art skewing once it was in the Amazon template, was saved in a format that was enormous. And I mean, enormous. The only thing that fit into the template when I uploaded it yesterday was the barcode. Seriously. That’s how huge it was. The entire cover was a giant-sized version of the barcode.

So, since Valerie is obviously not working these days (her mom’s funeral is today), I left the original cover art for now. But the inside of the book finally looks perfect. I was so happy.

But then, for some reason, when the trash pickup truck came to collect stuff yesterday, they didn’t pick up all the clippings from the hydrangea (8 bags worth). And this really upset me because I don’t want to keep looking at all those dead hydrangea blossoms — they make me so sad. So I called the company and they said that a different truck was picking up yard waste and would be over before 5:30pm, but I just knew that they weren’t going to come, and they didn’t.

So they are supposed to come today and get them — and they were really nice about it. But for some reason, it just made me so sad yesterday. I couldn’t really snap out of it. (The amount of windows I have in the house makes it almost impossible to not see 8 yard bags filled with dead hydrangea blossoms sitting out by the curb everywhere I go in the house. Plus it was drizzling rain all day, and cold. And I kept feeling like the flowers were blaming me for killing them and tossing them to the curb…)

And then I wanted to set up the web site for Marilyn’s Room Books yesterday, but I have to wait until Oct. 5th before I can redirect the domain to WordPress, and mapping the domain instead just got way too complicated. So that didn’t happen.

And then I decided to re-watch that Brian Jones documentary, which I’d forgotten to say was really, really good. Very disturbing, though, since they provide a good argument for saying that Brian Jones did not drown in his (chlorinated) swimming pool from an asthma attack and too much alcohol, but was in fact murdered in the little fresh-water trough at the side of his house by the builder whom he had just fired. (His autopsy does state that there was fresh water in his lungs, not swimming pool water, but his whole case has been mysteriously sealed for 75 years, of which there are still 24 more years to go!) The whole documentary was just really well done. but sad, and I watched it again.

Obviously, none of this is unbearable awfulness, but for some reason, it just contributed to me having a yucky day.

But today just feels world’s better. It really does. Today, I’m going to be working on a new erotic short story for the upcoming Muse Revisited Volume 4 — which will now be “Selected Taboo Erotica” from 1994-2020. (6 previously published stories, and one brand-new one, all of them D/s and pushing the boundary of questionable consent. It will be about 200 pages, 75,000 words.)

So I’m guessing I’ll have a really fun day.

And tomorrow, I’m having lunch with Kevin, the director of my play! So I am really looking forward to that. I have not socialized with a soul since the July 4th weekend, when I had dinner with Kevin and his husband at the Granville Inn.

Since today is October 1st, folks, that means it’s been 3 months since I’ve seen anybody. Well, I mean, anybody that I actually know.

Very early this morning, I had a very interesting dream, though. I dreamed that one of the Nick Cave sites I follow on Instagram posted the lyrics to “The Train Song.” And I was dreaming about the song (and then the train actually went by outside my window, too, which is nowhere near as sleep- disturbing when all the windows are closed).

But the dream was actually really cool. Even though I was back living with my adoptive mom, she wasn’t  home. And it didn’t seem as if she was ever going to come back, but she’d left behind all her diamonds — plus she’d left the house in a big mess. (I’m guessing that all symbolizes my consciousness re: her.)

But it was really sunny and I had a big wooden deck out back, with a patio and a big privacy fence around the patio, and it was filled with all these young friends. (Which in itself made for a great dream because I have, like, 3 friends left in the whole world now.)

Everyone was socializing and happy, instead of practicing social distancing and wearing masks. And a young lesbian black woman  brought me a gift — a pruned rose bush that was still young — in a flower pot. And she gave me all the instructions I needed for it to bloom. I was so excited. (Roses are my favorite flower, followed closely by lilacs.)

Inside the house, I had a pet bird in a cage. But the bird somehow got out, but I was able to easily get it with my hands and put it safely back in the cage and take it out to the back patio with me. (It was so cool to have a bird that wasn’t afraid of me.) (Plus, when I woke up, I was immediately thinking about that phrase, “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”)

Anyway, I woke up feeling really happy.

And on that happy note…

I’ll get to work here on the new erotic short story. And get the day happening around here. I hope you’re having a nice Thursday, wherever you are in the world. I’m leaving you with “The Train Song” since Disc #1 of B- Sides & Rarities was already in the CD player in the kitchen anyway! How fortuitous! So enjoy, gang. And thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“The Train Song”

Tell me how long’s the train been gone?
Tell me how long’s the train been gone?
And was she there?
And was she there?
Tell me how long’s the train been gone?

Tell me how many coaches long?
Tell me how many coaches long?
What did she wear?
And what did she wear?
Tell me how many coaches long?

Tell me when did the whistle blow?
Tell me when did the whistle blow?
And did she tie her hair?
And did she tie her hair?
Tell me when did the whistle blow?

© 1990 Nick Cave

Autumn Has So Totally Arrived!

48 degrees Fahrenheit; the sun didn’t come up until 7am; the leaves are changing all over the neighborhood; I did indeed prune the hydrangea yesterday morning…. The flowery  summer wreaths are off the doors — replaced with the ones for fall. I put away the porch furniture.

Now all I have left to do is wait for summer to get here…

All righty! I won’t get far with that attitude, will I? No.

So instead of wishing that life were totally different, I’m going to spend the day ignoring the world beyond Crazeysburg and just doing non-writing work today:

  1. finish formatting 1954 Powder Blue Pickup and send it off to the publisher today.
  2. fix the formatting on the print edition for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. And then upload it to Amazon and hopefully stop tinkering with it and keep it there once and for all.
  3. set up the web site for Marilyn’s Room Books and get that up and running.

Even though I will no longer be self-publishing any of my new erotica (which I am extremely happy about!), I will still put up the Marilyn’s Room Books site because I want all of my available titles to be in one place, regardless of who the publishers are.

Plus, I’m still planning to self-publish In the Shadow of Narcissa, since it’s not erotic. And also bring out a new print edition of Twilight of the Immortal.

If I’m not mistaken, gang, Girl in the Night: Erotic Love Letters to the Muse is going to be brought out in print and eBooks by the new publisher. (So that means I will finish writing it before the end of the year.)

But before that, I’ll be sending them The Muse Revisited, Volume 4 — yay!! But instead of it being strictly a print edition of my selected erotica from 1994 -2012, it’s going to be print and digital, and focus on my previously published hardcore BDSM stories, along with a brand new one that I will write here at any moment!!

So all of it is really exciting to me, gang. It really, really is.

Meanwhile, though, I just now realized (because I’m not dressed yet) that I am still wearing my summer PJs to bed every night. I suppose I have to make an adjustment there. Drag out the fall PJs.

It’s funny, but for most of my adult life, I hated summer — because I lived in NYC and I have a very low tolerance for high humidity. It makes me super cranky and makes my brain feel like it’s going to explode. And NYC summers are usually just the worst.

But ever since I moved into this amazing old house in the middle of nowhere, all of that has changed (mostly because of that man I fell in love with that first summer I lived here who died; he changed summer for me forever) — honestly, honestly, honestly; I cannot emphasize how much in the middle of nowhere this house is, gang. When you get off the highway that leads to the 3-mile, winding back road that leads to my village, there is a really big freeway exit sign and it says “LOCAL ATTRACTIONS” and there is absolutely nothing written on that sign! I’m so serious. It’s just amazing. Nothing is on the sign. It’s just a big blank sign. NOTHING is here, folks!!

However, there used to be a famous homestead out here but it’s been closed down, so they removed the listing but left the huge sign. (In fact, if you were to google my village, you’d discover that it was once home to the world’s largest apple basket — but no more. I have yet to lay eyes on that basket (below) because that homestead was closed down! Yet google seems to think it’s emblematic of where I live!)

Worlds Largest Basket of Apples in Frazeysburg Ohio Stock Photo - Alamy

So I’m guessing that, once I’m dead, the one thing on that freeway exit sign will be my house that will, by then, be a famous museum… (Probably because I was insanely crazy, had a house full of dead spirits talking to me all the time and had too many undomesticated cats, but I would prefer it to be a standing homage to my splendid writing…)

Yeah, well…

Robert Jordan Quote: “If wishes were wings, pigs would fly.” (9 wallpapers) - Quotefancy

Okay, on that happy note… I refuse to talk about politics or the debate.  I refuse to even think about it. I will simply buy a gun, I mean, VOTE, and get on with my life.

And now I will even get dressed and get to work around here. (Just FYI, I never sit down at the desk to blog before getting dressed, so I’m not sure what’s up with me today.)

Anyway.

Have a nice Wednesday, wherever you are in the world, gang. Thanks for visiting. I leave you with probably my most favorite Buddy Holly song from my wee bonny girlhood (even though I pretty much liked all his songs), “Everyday”  (1958) — because I want to feel hopeful about love, like when I was young (yay!!), instead of depressed by its utter absence around here, now that I’m old (yay!!)! So enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!!!

Truly A Bittersweet Autumn Day Here in Crazeysburg

Yes, today’s the day I have to trim back the hydrangea. And while this is a sad day for me, it is a day much celebrated by all my neighbors.

Because this means that: a.) they won’t have to look at an enormously huge brown & drooping hydrangea anymore; and b.) they will finally have free access to the entire sidewalk when walking their dogs, riding their bikes, or pushing their baby strollers, etc., etc.

Plus, since my lawn guy was having such severe back problems (he’s getting surgery soon) that the last time he was here, I told him just to cut the grass and not worry about trimming anything or blowing away the clippings from the sidewalk. So today I have to sweep all those now very- dead clippings up, too, and my sidewalk is only about 17 miles long…

Lest you’ve forgotten about my very long sidewalk, here it is from September of last year:

I know it doesn’t look 17 miles long, but it is.

(And you should see my neighbor’s fence now, gang. Remember that intense wind from early spring that blew the roof off of my barn? Well, it wreaked havoc on that wooden fence there. It is just one great big blown apart mess now, and I guess the neighbors have no immediate plans of doing anything about it.

(And they have two little girls and so now we can all readily see that those little girls have every available  backyard plaything known to man! Seriously, if it’s made out of hideous plastic and you can buy it for a child and put it in a yard, these little girls have got it.)

All righty.

So, I did the final tweaking and the read-through of 1954 Powder Blue Pickup yesterday and I was really, really happy with it, gang. Just really happy. Today, after I do all my strenuous “yard work,” I’m going to do the manuscript formatting and then send it off to the publisher and I will keep you posted!!

This morning, on Instagram, the official Nick Cave page released an announcement that on Oct. 9th, on Bad Seed TeeVee, there will be this:

And while I have never actually watched the film Lawless all the way through (even though I own it — I also own The Proposition and have never watched it all the way through, either. I just have problems with all the violence. And sometimes, I say to myself “this is the day when I will be able to just sit and watch this and not get squeamish about all the violence”, and then I last about 5 minutes….)

That said, though, the music from the film Lawless is really great. It’s very sort of “Great Depression-era American bluegrass music” type original stuff. Beautiful. And it has performers like Emmylou Harris and Ralph Stanley (who has since passed away).

And as near as I can tell, AEST is an Australian time zone which requires higher math skills to figure out, so I honestly have no clue whatsoever what 8PM AEST really means in, you know, the time zone that everybody else actually lives in…

Plus, I don’t know about you, but I still have trouble watching stuff and looking at chat at the same time! (I’m one of those people who still can’t watch the news and look at the other news scrolling along the bottom of the screen without going insane.) But this is only because I’m ancient, so don’t let the chat room thing deter you.

And also, I think you are required to provide your own snacks. I think I read somewhere, though, that you can pre-order snacks from Cave Things, but the only option is regular pretzels in a 1-ounce snack-size  bag that is autographed by Nick Cave and costs £300 plus shipping, and you must pre-order it today, otherwise they won’t guarantee that it will reach you by Oct 9th…

(I am so very much kidding about all of that!!!! So don’t go looking for it.)

All righty!!!!

I did get an email from Valerie during the night, and it sounds like it is just even more difficult for her right now than I could imagine.  The wake for her mom is tomorrow. Plus, she has selflessly chosen to adopt her mom’s wild little dog, even though Valerie already has a pitbull and about 6 house cats, and about a dozen feral cats that live out back in her yard in Brooklyn. So the menagerie has grown…

Okay, on that note, I’m gonna leave you now. And do yoga and then trim a hydrangea… I’m leaving you with “Sheila” again, by Tommy Roe, since that’s pretty much the only song going through my head these days (Valerie’s “real” name is Sheila, and that was her mom’s name, too, and Valerie and I have been connected now for a very, very, very long time and I have always loved that fucking song.)

All right. Thanks for visiting. Have a good Tuesday, okay? I love you guys. See ya.

[UPDATE: Here’s that photo I went looking for yesterday.  Valerie’s mom is on the left, and Valerie is on the right, and two aunts are in the middle — all are on their their way from NYC to Ireland for a vacation.]

All is Well Here in Crazeysburg!

Sorry I was not able to get back here to post more yesterday, but I was hard at work on 1954 Powder Blue Pickup for another 12 hours.

However, it is DONE, gang! And I just love it. I really do.

It’s 62 pages, about 35,000 words. I will go over the whole thing a final time today and then send it off to the new publisher tomorrow. And then we shall see.

For me, personally, it’s my most favorite thing that I’ve ever written. And I have written a whole heck of a lot of stuff, gang. But I just love this one.

And as is par for my usual course, it’s a love story with an implied “happily ever after” ending — but before we get to that happy ending, it’s indescribably filthy as hell!! And it’s totally hardcore and pushes every boundary of “questionable consent” imaginable. (As all good love stories should, in my happy opinion! Yay.) Okay.

So, golly, I am exhausted here. But I’m just really, really happy.

I’m going to dash into town to get the groceries here in a minute, and then spend the whole day doing the final edit on the book, because tomorrow, I absolutely must  prune back the hydrangea so that the dead blossoms, etc., can be picked up for yard compost when the truck comes by on Wednesday.

All of my neighbors now have their autumn mums on their porches, and their various pumpkins and decorative fall squashes and even Halloween lights!

And yet I still have all my summer petunias out, and all my happy little summer bird ornaments, and yard angels and summer “Welcome” signs and mosquito-repelling candles, etc., so I have to sort of kind of get with the program somehow — although I’m keeping my petunias until the frost comes and kills them.

Still, I’m going to gather all the various flower boxes onto the kitchen porch, so that at least the rest of the house & barn look like they’re appropriate for fall.

And then I guess we’ll get ever onward to the close of another year.

Well, I have not been able to actually speak to Valerie yet about her mom’s death. It will probably be several days before she’ll be taking any phone calls.  It has just been a really, really rough year for her. Big changes now for her, too. She is the last one left in her family now. Her younger brother died a very long time ago (he used to be my computer guy, back in the Dark Ages), then her dad died a few years back, and now her mom.

I tried to find a photo I have of her and her mom and one of her aunt’s heading off on a trip to Ireland many years ago, but I can’t find it. But they are all super-NYC Irish-Catholic blue-eyed blondes, and they all looked exactly alike. It was sort of uncanny.

Anyway, I feel very sad about that.

Okay, well, while hunting for that photo of Val and her mom, I saw that Nick Cave sent out a new Red Hand File just now. It appears to have something to do with magic, but I have not read it yet. Perhaps we can all follow this link and go over there and read it together!! Yay!!

Other than that, folks, well, I honestly have nothing going on over here. I have just been in another world, trying to get that novella written.  And it looks like I am gonna close this now, scoot into town, and then get right back to work on it so that I can officially say it is done!

I leave you with, like, the very first thing I saw on Instagram, the moment my eyes opened today. So I played it at breakfast. Rather intense breakfast-listening music; I’m not sure what the cats thought of it. (They do tend to prefer Broadway show tunes, frankly.) But it was Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ version of an old Leadbelly song “Black Betty.” As far as I know, it’s only on their B Sides & Rarities album (2005), but was recorded (as a B-side) in 1986.

So I leave you with that, oh, and I guess, in honor of my cats, I’ll also leave you with my hands-down favorite Broadway show tune of all time — “Letters” from the ill-fated Broadway fucking  amazing show, “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812.” It was based on a lesser-known Tolstoy novel (just kidding — it was based on War & Peace), and I had tickets to see it in September 2017, when I went to NYC to work with Sandra on our other play. And I was so FUCKING excited to see it but the darn thing CLOSED before I could get there. (It was really, really unfortunate why that show closed, but I won’t go into it here.)

Okay, enjoy and thanks for visiting, gang. Have a terrific Monday, wherever you are in the world! I love you guys. See ya.

Happy International Cat Throw-Up Day!!!

Jesus Christ, you know?? No less than 3 cats threw up before 6am this morning.

Lucy coughed up a hairball at the top of the stairs.

Some mystery cat was a piggy and ate too much dry cat food and then threw it back up, only partially digested, in my bedroom (hence my reluctance to ever go barefoot in this house, especially in the dark).

Then in the middle of my own breakfast, Huckleberry threw up her canned cat food on the kitchen floor because she wolfed it down like a crazy person who was never going to see canned cat food again, so it came right back up. (She does that a lot, even though she’s gotten canned cat food for breakfast, every single morning of her life, for over 8 years now…)

And so the day begins! Yay.

Yesterday was a perfect day, gang.  I spent many hours going over the gangbang segment and, overall, I thought it worked really well, I just wanted to tweak it. The dialogue, mainly. But now that section’s complete and I’m happy with it, and now that means I only have one section left and 1954 Powder Blue Pickup will be done!! I’m so excited.

I only wish that Michael Hemmingson were still alive. This is the kind of novella he would have really appreciated and probably would have published. (Meaning that it’s 99.9% anal sex.)

Michael Hemmingson - Wikipedia
Michael Hemmingson, gone but never forgotten, not even for a minute

However, in regards to publishing it, I won’t go into all the details yet, but yesterday, I accepted a multi-year, exclusive publishing deal for all of my new taboo erotica, so I’m guessing that 1954 Powder Blue Pickup will likely be for sale, in print and digital, by late fall.

I’m super excited, gang. But I’ll go into more detail when I know absolutely for certain.

And I also think that The Muse Revisited Volume 4 is going to be slightly re-envisioned in its overall premise.

Okay. Another head’s up regarding the staged reading for my play, Tell My Bones. (Sunday evening, EST, November 22nd) There will be a link soon for you to make reservations to stream it. It will be free to stream — and it will also be available to stream from several websites (tellmybones.com, our Facebook page, through blueprint productions. com, and I believe through Harlem One Stop, and probably even here on Marilyn’s Room) but primarily it will be an evenbrite thing on YouTube, and streaming everywhere through there. It will run about 45 minutes.

And I’m really hoping you guys will make your reservations and then stream it — because, not only do I hope you will like the play, but also, I need those viewing numbers. I really do. The amount of views it gets matters to potential producers. And this is the first step toward getting it actually produced on stage in NYC (once the virus is over).

So — hugely thanking you in advance!! I will keep you posted.

So, last evening, I started streaming the new documentary on Brian Jones, Rolling Stone: The Life & Death of Brian Jones. I’m more than halfway through it, and will finish watching it tonight. It is really good, but nowhere near as uplifting as that documentary on Bill Wyman is (The Quiet One). I really did love that Bill Wyman documentary.

However, Bill Wyman and Brian Jones were two incredibly different types of people. (Brian Jones, in case you aren’t aware of who he is, was the original founding member of the Rolling Stones back in 1962 and died in 1969, shortly after being ousted from the group due to severe drug use and psychological problems.)

I was already very aware that Brian Jones had a reputation for not having been very nice. He allegedly had a sadistic streak, and could also get physically abusive toward women (at least to Anita Pallenberg), and he also had 5 illegitimate babies by 1965 (when he was only 25 years old), and it didn’t seem like he was doing much about taking care of any of them, accept at least acknowledging that they were his.

So, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that the documentary was sort of depressing — it does basically say that all those rumors about him were true. However, it goes much deeper into his personality and his emotional issues, stemming from childhood, and the serious psychological problems that developed from that. (Compounded by unbelievable quantities of alcohol and drug use that he was infamous for.)

It also looks more closely at the personality dynamics within the Stones, and why Mick & Keith came to the forefront, even though it was Brian’s band, etc. Really sad stuff, that you can easily see why it got so emotionally complicated for Brian and why he felt so defeated by it. (He was dead by age 27.)

It’s not a film that seems to have been supported, endorsed, or acknowledged in any official way at all by the Rolling Stones themselves, so I’m guessing they want their distance from it, but so far, it is a really good documentary. Eye-opening, and balanced, but really sad.

All righty. Well. On that note!!

I’ll get the morning underway here and inch ever closer to completing 1954 Powder Blue Pickup!! And when it’s done, I’ll see if Michael Hemmingson (in spirit) wants to come hang out at my kitchen table for a bit and celebrate!! Yay. (I’m guessing he will.)

Wall Art & Home Decor | Famous art paintings, Famous artists paintings, Raphael paintings
Marilyn & Michael in the old days…

Okay. Thanks for visiting. Enjoy your Saturday, wherever you are in the world!! Oh! And before I forget — that pornographic wallpaper over at Cave Things is now available for sale!! (It’s rather on the pink side — I saw a photo of it on a wall on Instagram yesterday — so here’s hoping you have a room that will look pretty in pink!)

All righty.  I leave you with some early Stones, heavily influenced by all the many instruments Brian Jones was so good at playing: “Paint It Black,” their huge hit from Aftermath (1966). Enjoy. And I love you guys. See ya!

“Paint It Black”

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a newborn baby, it just happens everyday

I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and must have it painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facing up when your whole world is black

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by, dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

Hmm, hmm, hmm…

I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black

Yeah!

Hmm, hmm, hmm…

© 1966 Mick Jagger, Keith Richards

Another Awesome Day in Crazeysburg!

Technically, it’s not “Indian Summer” yet — I think that usually happens in October, when it happens at all. But it still feels wonderful to have this second chance at such beautiful weather.

Not that I go anywhere. I’m still basically at my desk for hours on end, and only go outside to take care of the waning petunias and to go across the road to check my mailbox. Still, I just love having the house opened up again, even for just three days.

And the boy on his motorcycle is loving this warm weather, too. Like clockwork, he was roaring past my house yesterday — and when the weather had gotten cool the last week or so, he wasn’t on that motorcycle once, even though he was out in his yard, fooling around with cars.

(NO! I’m still not stalking him…) (However, if we could find a way to get him to age about 40 years overnight…)

Okay!!

Well, yesterday, I finally finished writing the gangbang segment for 1954 Powder Blue Pickup!! It only took, literally, 12 hours to write 4 pages. It was really hard work, but I think I got it. I will be reading it over today to see what I think, overall. I really wanted it to be erotic more than violent, but I did want it to have that feeling like it was a little out of control. So we’ll see if I captured it.

Other than that, I’ve had some food, and I’ve slept and that’s about it!! (Oh, and yoga…) I’m just really trying to get this novella finished. We’re at 30,000 words, 52 pages.

Well, so I guess this is gonna be short & sweet today!

On Instagram this morning, I saw a really cool photo of the late Willie DeVille — of the band Mink DeVille, but I always just call him “Mink DeVille” because “Willie DeVille wasn’t his real name, either.

He’s been dead now for 11 years and I find this impossible to believe. If you aren’t familiar with his music, you can find all of it on YouTube now. He was one of those musicians who was really plagued by  heroin addiction and I think it kind of hampered where his career could have gone, in the long run. But while Mink DeVille, as a band, was around, I saw him a few times on stage in NYC and he always just blew me away. He was amazing.

His music was very rhythmic and emotional. I found it really addicting. Back when Walkmans came out, I was always listening to either Mink DeVille or Lou Reed pretty much everywhere I went in the East Village.  I didn’t usually buy cassettes — I was much more into records, and then CDs when those came out, but for some reason, I had to have those Mink DeVille and Lou Reed cassettes… It was just so NYC to me.

I have such precise and intense memories of walking around the East Village one night — over 30 years ago now — having some sort of emotional meltdown, while listening to “Mixed-Up, Shook-Up Girl” over and over and over in the little headphones we had back then. And as fate would have it, I no longer have any clue what was bothering me so much that night, but I remember the music…

I know I’ve posted that song here on the blog before, but I’ll post it again today, along with another one of his atmospheric love songs, “Just to Walk that Little Girl Home.” So, enjoy!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you have a lovely Friday, wherever you are in the world.

I love you guys. See ya!

Mixed Up, Shook Up Girl

Candle lit, and my eyes are slits
Jumpin’ now, paper clip
Make a move, sail a ship
Tap it in, tap it in, ruby lips

She’s a mixed up, shook up girl
Got me so strung out
I don’t know what to do
She’s a mixed up, mixed up, shook up girl

Take a breath, in the night
Hurry over, she said
But there was no one in sight
Now break away, is in her eyes
You know that little girl, she cut me deep
Inside out

She’s a mixed up, shook up girl
Got me so strung out
I don’t know what to do
She’s a mixed up, mixed up, shook up girl

Hey, you, I remember
All the empty streets
Fill me now
And though you’re gone away
I know not forever
Why don’t you just come over here and tell me, baby
Is it over now?

She’s a mixed up, shook up girl
Got me so strung out
I don’t know what to do
She’s a mixed up, mixed up, shook up girl
She’s a mixed up, shook up girl
She’s a mixed up, shook up girl
And she got me so strung out…
She’s a mixed up, shook up girl…

And she got me so strung out …

She’s a mixed up, shook up girl …

© 1977 Willie DeVille

Just To Walk That Little Girl Home

It’s closing time in this nowhere café
There’s no way in the world I’m gonna let that girl
Let her slip away
No I can’t explain just what’s happening to me
I can tell that guy who’s sticking close by her side
Knows her more than just casually

But there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
No there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
No there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
Just to walk that little girl home
Just to walk that … mmmmm
Just to walk that little girl home

Her flashing smile, her searching eyes
Oh a promise it seems of having all of my dreams
Finally realized
But I can’t ignore hey that guy by her side
Now I know he can see just what’s happening to me
There’s a look on his face he can’t hide

But I’m telling you there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
No there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
No there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
Just to walk that little girl home
Just to walk that … mmmmm
Just to walk that little girl home

© 1979 Willie DeVille, Doc Pomus