Tag Archives: Tell My Bones: The Helen LaFrance Story

Two Super Frosty Mornings In A Row!

Yes, by midday yesterday, I actually broke down and turned on the furnace. It was really unbelievably frosty in this house yesterday!

By tomorrow, the temperatures will be getting back to the normal September weather, but last night (and tonight again) it actually got down into the 30s Fahrenheit… my poor cats, right? So I had to turn on the heat.

The main reason I hate having that furnace on, and always put it off until the final moment, is that it messes with my sinuses like you wouldn’t believe. (By January, I usually start getting nose-bleeds that last until I can finally turn that furnace off.) ( I really really just love fresh air.)  (Even this morning, I woke up at 5am, wondering why I couldn’t breathe and then remembered that the furnace was on…)

And now I am facing the awesome task of once again cutting back the hydrangea bush for the season. The blossoms have all turned to that greenish-pink color now, and are all bent over. I am going to try to get to it during the week. It is such a massive plant now that I can’t even imagine where I will start! I guess that I’ll just “start.”

(How it looked when it was finally in full bloom in August; it got to be 8 ft tall this year)

That first summer when I bought the house, it didn’t bloom anywhere near this astoundingly.  I don’t think anyone had really taken care of it in years.  But I began cutting it back that first fall, and these past two summers it has just exploded with growth and blossoms. I really just love this plant.

So, I got great work done on the novella yesterday (1954 Powder Blue Pickup). I sat and stared at it for several hours yesterday morning, before it came to me to move that part where  his girl does that unexpected thing to after the gangbang section. Because, honestly, I could not figure out for the life of me how to move anything forward. So it finally occurred to me to just rearrange stuff.

And then 9 hours later… I was done writing for the day. So I was happy.

All right, well, I don’t want to become a stalker or anything, but that blond teenage boy down the street is just too awesome. Now that I know what house he lives in, I can’t help but be looking right at it every time I get up from my desk and look out that window. And yesterday, in that unbelievably gorgeous (although cool) weather, he was out there washing and waxing that electric blue Honda Civic that his mom drive’s from the Honda dealership.  (See how, without even trying, I’m starting to learn all this weird stuff about their lives?? And I don’t even have a clue who they are! I wonder how much I would learn if I actually was stalking him…)

Well, he did an amazing job with that car. And it made me wish so much that I had a kid who would wash & wax my Honda civic!! Because mine is Molten-Lava, which is a color and intensely sparkly finish that makes “a bold sparkly statement” and draws attention and I never wash it. I have had it a year now and it has only been washed twice in that year.

Mostly this is because there has been a pandemic going on for 6 months of that year, but also because that first summer I was here in the house, the garden spigot was making me insane and always turning itself on by accident, without me knowing it had done that until after it had run up a fortune on my water bill. So I had the spigot removed, and had a turn-off valve installed just inside the basement where the spigot connects to the main water line, but then never had a new spigot put back in so, for now, I have no garden hose, which makes it a colossal pain to try to wash your own car at home.

I just love being a single homeowner.  I absolutely never get around to half the stuff that needs doing around here. Mostly because it would involve me actually getting up from my desk.

And speaking of getting up from my desk…

I guess I will get started here today, do yoga and then get back to work on the novella.

It is just so beautiful outside right now, and it’s supposed to get up to 70 today, so here’s hoping I will breathe just fine for most of the day!! I hope you are enjoying your Sunday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning — from an album I was listening to nonstop for most of my 9-hour drive out to Rhinebeck, NY, this time last year to see Nick Cave in Conversation (oh, and also to have that incredibly great meeting with my director in NYC regarding my play Tell My Bones that is indeed moving forward in a way that makes me so unbelievably happy.) (What a difference a year makes, right? Good and not so good, but mostly good.)

Anyway, a very, very favorite song of mine, as well as a total classic from Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, the “live” version of “Southern Accents”. (In the incredibly hard-to-put-down book, Conversations with Tom Petty (2005),  he talked about getting up in the middle of the night, going out to the piano in the other room and suddenly writing this song from start to finish, just like that. It all came out at once — music & lyrics. And then he went right back to bed. And it was the song that finally helped him process his mom’s death. They were from Northern Florida, which, especially back then, was like coming from Southern Georgia — very southern. Well,  I knew none of that stuff until I read that book; until then, I’d just sort of loved the song. Now, I really, really love the song. And of course, it practically became his anthem. Or one of them.)

Anyway!! Enjoy. Have a great day and thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“Southern Accents”

There’s a southern accent, where I come from
The young ‘uns call it country, the Yankees call it dumb
I got my own way of talking, but everything gets done
With a southern accent, where I come from

Now that drunk tank in Atlanta is just a motel room to me
Think I might go work Orlando, if them orange groves don’t freeze
Got my own way of working, but everything is run
With a southern accent, where I come from

For just a minute there I was dreaming
For just a minute it was all so real
For just a minute she was standing there, with me

There’s a dream I keep having, where my mama comes to me
And kneels down over by the window, and says a prayer for me
Got my own way of praying, but every one’s begun
With a southern accent, where I come from

Got my own way of living, but everything gets done
With a southern accent, where I come from

© 1985 Tom Petty

Yes, I’m Happy

Even though, for some indecipherable reason, I woke up feeling really sad this morning — even to the point of suddenly crying at the kitchen table during breakfast. I don’t think the tears had anything to do with listening to old hillbilly music, but I guess you never really know for sure. (I turned off the music, just in case.)

I slept a lot — straight through from something strange, like, 9pm last night to 5am this morning (I usually only need 5 or 6 hours of sleep). And, at some point, I even had a dream that I had already gotten up and gotten breakfast and gone back to bed so there was no reason to get up. (Weird.)

Anyway. Apparently, I was not in a big hurry for today to get here.

However, that said. Things really are okay here. So I don’t know why I was so sad. I’ve basically signed the contract for “Half-Moon Bride” with the new publisher! Yay!

And I made really unexpected progress with the new erotic novella, 1954 Powder Blue Pickup, yesterday — and by “strange” I mean that it went off into this whole unexpected storyline. To the point where, as I was writing it, I was also thinking: Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me, seriously?

But I’m still really happy with it, however, the work I need to tackle on it today will require really intense focusing (a good old 1950s-style gangbang, which was not the unexpected part).  But it will be intense, nonetheless. (So, you know, you probably shouldn’t drop by unannounced today, wanting to just hang out with me…) (As if you ever do!) (I have had TWO visitors since March… two, in six months.) (Yes, I’m aware that there’s been a pandemic that whole time, but, honestly, how long are you going to keep using that as your fall-back line?? None of us here in Crazeysburg have the virus, okay??)

Anyway!!

Early this morning on Instagram, there was a post sent out by Cave Things.  It was a very short video of Nick Cave working at his insanely cluttered desk — but you could only see his hands. And I thought it was amusing that he clearly had on a very nice suit, and he had all his gold rings on, but was working at this ridiculously cluttered desk.

Whereas, I have actually a very tidy desk while I’m working (because everything gets dumped on the floor first thing in the morning, then placed back on the desk in heaps when I’m done working at night.)

Still, I need a very tidy desk, or I can’t think straight. Yet I wear the sloppiest clothes you can imagine. Because I simply cannot feel encumbered by anything while I’m writing — and no jewelry, either. I can’t stand to have rings or even a bracelet on when I’m typing. I am always wearing some sort of really baggy tee shirt, and either baggy cargo shorts in summer, or a pair of baggy men’s lounge pants the rest of the year, and nothing on underneath any of that because I absolutely cannot stand to feel constricted in any way, and I am always barefoot at my desk because I can’t even stand to feel like my feet are constrained while I’m writing. (My flip-flops stay neatly at the side of my desk because I put them back on the absolute minute I stand up from my chair…)

I know! It’s almost like I’m neurotic, or something — right??

And add to that vision of loveliness the unlit, unfiltered cigarette that is always dangling from my mouth now whenever I’m at my desk… and the very real fact that I almost never remember to even comb my hair. Although I do brush my teeth twice a day!! But I usually also forget to wash my hair because I’m always in such a big hurry to get out of the shower and be neurotic about something…

Anyway. I did think that little video of Nick Cave’s hands was really cool!

Okay.

A mini-update regarding the print edition of The Guitar Hero Goes Home. Valerie is still trying to get the cover art to behave. And until that gets fixed, I have not fixed the formatting issue I’m having with the printed text, because I want to upload it all at once. You can still read it just fine, I’m just not 100% happy with the layout (it makes me insane, actually). But the eBook version is completely fine.  So there are no problems with that. (There was one typo that I fixed last week.)

Anyway. It’s frustrating. But ever-onward we go.

And then yesterday, I got an email from the director of my play (Tell My Bones), wherein  he was giving me the link to share in the dropbox that all the various technical director/ producer type people were already sharing in as they do all the necessary work to get the staged reading of my play ready to go.

Well. I was stunned. Literally. Because I had absolutely no clue that all this WORK was already well underway, involving all these professional theater people. I honestly was totally overwhelmed. WTF, right? How long has this been going on? While I’m here at my desk, thoroughly unconstrained by everything imaginable and spending hours and hours and hours and days and days and days writing incredibly intense erotica…

It was a very weird feeling.

Okay, it looks like a pretty day here today, but it’s heading down into the low 40s Fahrenheit tonight and for the next few nights, so the houseplants are coming indoors for the season and I have to once again create that literary barrier between the palm tree and the cats.

Literary barrier awaiting the houseplants!

Meaning, that I have to stack books as precariously as possible all around the palm tree so that the cats get scared away from trying to eat the palm leaves and thus absolutely ruining the poor tree.

It just feels like it’s too early to be doing all this, but I guess it is what it is this year. And on we go.

Okay. I’m going to get started here today. Have a nice Friday wherever you are in the world!! And enjoy whatever you’re wearing and enjoy whatever you’re doing!! I will endeavor to get my mood on a more even keel and try to have a good day here, as well. Meanwhile, I leave you with this morning’s breakfast-listening sad hillbilly music! Stonewall Jackson’s huge Country hit from 1962, “Leona.” (I  just fucking LOVE the piano on this song — if it doesn’t make you want to drink and smoke, I don’t know what will.) So, then. All righty, thanks for visiting, gang!! I love you guys. See ya.

Leona

Leona, Leona,
You tell him you’re through
You tell him, Leona, about me and you
You tell him we’re married with a baby of two
You tell him, Leona,
You tell him you’re through.

You laughed as I pleaded, and walked out the door
To meet him, to kiss him, to shame me once more
I knew where to find you
Just follow the sign:
Dancing and dining, cocktails and wine

The sidewalk was crowded in front of the bar
I heard the sirens of the black police car
Two bodies lay crumpled, a woman, a man
His wife stood there by you,
A gun in her hand

Leona, Leona,
It’s over and through
The baby is crying and calling for you
For me there’s no difference
I knew for so long
That some day you’d leave me
And now you are gone

© 1962 Cindy Walker

Howdy, Howdy! Sorry I’m late!!

Kevin, the director of my play, Tell My Bones, has been hard at work, streamlining the play for the upcoming staged reading on StreamYard. And this morning, I had to read through what he’s come up with so far, and it absolutely amazed me, what a great job he’s doing!

I am so excited about this reading, gang. I just cannot wait.

But anyway, that’s what I’ve been doing here this morning — reading over the play. And so now I am late posting here.

Wow, is it humid today. Just unreal. It’s supposed to rain most of the day — I think remnants from Hurricane Laura. So we’ll see how that goes. But all I’m planning to do today is sit at my desk and finish writing the new short story.

I believe it is almost done, but, honestly, I don’t really know, since I wasn’t expecting to write this story in the first place. And I’ve just been sort of letting the story tell itself. (It’s about 20 pages now.) And I’m getting the pronounced feeling that a lot of people will be offended by the story, but what I’m hoping is that those kinds of people will read it and think they “should” be offended by it (or aspects of it), but instead find it disturbingly erotic.  (That’s when I know a story is a success!!)

I’m only partly kidding. But it is a really strange story.  (See previous posts from the last several days, re: “The Half-Moon Bride”.) You know, even when I’m reading over it, tweaking it, revising it, sometimes I’ll get to the end of a passage and just think: Wow, that was fucking EROTIC.

But then I’ll also laugh at myself because it’s just — I don’t know; it is such a weird story and it just keeps coming out of nowhere. And it is totally D/s, because I can’t seem to write anything that is not totally D/s for the life of me. Which means it goes down some of those murky “questionable consent” paths which are getting more and more “unmarketable” nowadays.

But I figure, my erotic stories have always been known for that. And some (women mostly) people get offended, but for the most part, readers are okay with it. I guess because they like D/s. And since I’m publishing myself now — oh, well.

So I just keep moving forward with the story, letting it be what it wants to be. And I think I am almost done, but we’ll see what today reveals.

All right. I’m going to get started here. Thanks for visiting, gang. I cannot believe it is already Friday — how the heck did that happen??? But enjoy the day, wherever you are in the world! I’m leaving you with a Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds song that I had not thought about in a really long time. (I saw it mentioned on Instagram yesterday and found it kind of staggering.)”Sail Away,” 1994, originally a B-side from Let Love In.

And when I was playing it yesterday, it occurred to me that I haven’t played Discs 1 or 2 from B Sides & Rarities (2005) in a really long time. I always just stick in Disc 3 and play that one. So now I have Disc 2 in the CD player in the kitchen, which includes “Sail Away”…

Anyway, today I’m leaving you with “Sail Away.”  A darkly beautiful song. So enjoy. I love you guys! See ya.

Sail Away

[Verse 1]
I climbed the hill, lay in the grass
A little dark-eyed girl drifted past
She said all the best is come, it could not last
And the worst, it has come true
Her hands are small and fluttered up
I lay amongst the buttercups
I pulled on my coat and buttoned it up
For the worst, it had come true

[Chorus]
Sail away, sail away
To a place where your troubles can’t follow
Sail away, sail away
Save all your tears for tomorrow

[Verse 2]
Orphans of the city moved toward us
And the swallows swooped and the starlings warned us
And the peril in everything
It assured us that the worst had come true
And all my sorrows made their bed beside me
The shame, the disgrace and the brutality
And she whispered then “Let laughter flee.”
For the worst, it has come true

[Verse 3]
Dry your tears, forget while we’re here
Leave all your sorrows behind you
Never lose heart, all things will pass
To a place where your troubles can’t find you
She came beside me amongst my coat
Her breath was warm against my throat
We clung to each other so very close
For the worst, it had come true

[Chorus]
Sail away, sail away
To a place where no one can betray you
Take my hand through this night without end
For the worst, it has come to claim you

© 1994 Nick Cave

Happy Tuesday to All You Groovy Cats & Kittens!!

Another splendid day here in Crazeysburg. I hope you’ve got similar weather wherever you are in the world.

If you follow zodiac-celestial things, you are likely aware that we have a killer new moon going on right now. And by “killer” I only mean that it’s one of those new moons that cause emotional chaos and are putting most people on edge.

So if you’re feeling a little crazy and don’t know why — by Thursday , everything should work itself out quite nicely.

I hope.

My world is actually kind of fine.  The trip into town yesterday was effortless. I managed to get there and back and do the marketing in a little over an hour, which means I must have been speeding in both directions, because it’s not really possible to get to town and back, let alone also do the marketing in less than an hour and a half if you’re going the speed limit…

I got a wonderful little text from my ex-husband in NYC last evening. Well, he’s not in NYC right now. He and one of his brothers rented a pick-up truck and took a drive out West. And yesterday, they reached Montana — West Yellowstone, to be exact, where my friend Kevin lives from May to October. (This is the Kevin who keeps his 1965 VW camper van in my barn all summer). I had told Wayne to look up Kevin when they got to West Yellowstone.

Well, lo & behold, the text came last evening with photos of Wayne (my ex) and Kevin — both smiling happily!!!! It was so cool. And guess what was in the background of one of the photos? Kevin’s other 1965 vintage VW camper van!! Only that one was sky blue and the one Kevin keeps here is dark green.

1965 VW Split Screen 11 Window Camper Van – Left Hand Drive ...
This is not Kevin’s but his camper in Montana looks like this.

It was just so nice to see them together in the photos. And so weird to think the two of them have now met — no one who I have become friends or acquaintances with since 2003 has ever met Wayne. It’s so odd that the one and only person who now has met him would be Kevin. In Montana, no less. Thousands of miles from here.

My chat yesterday with the other Kevin — the man who is directing my play — was just so great, gang. I am so excited about this staged reading getting underway. And some early feedback I am getting from actors and tech people regarding the actual play (meaning they read the script), is kind of blowing me away.  It means so much to me that they are able to relate to what I’ve written about Helen LaFrance’s life.

As you are likely aware, here in America, a faction of the black entertainment community has come down really hard on white people telling the stories of black lives. Which is why the original reading that was set to happen in June came to a screeching halt during the nationwide riots. And also why I was beginning to fear my play would never be produced in the US and would have to be produced in another country.

Well, I can’t tell you how happy the early feedback is making me feel (from black actors telling the director).  I’m still trying to keep a low profile, though, in all of this because I want the play to speak for itself, and for the attention to be on Helen’s art and life, not on whoever wrote the play.

But I am indeed very quietly excited out here in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio. I have been working on this project for 8 years now.

By the way, we have decided to make the reading entirely free to stream, and we’ll likely keep it free for at least a couple of weeks after the initial event, and then make it password protected after that. But please try to watch it!! Since it won’t happen until Sunday evening, November 8th, there is plenty of time for me to constantly remind you!!

(It will stream on YouTube, here on this blog, on the Tell My Bones web site and Facebook page, and on a number of other entertainment-based web sites.)

Well, speaking of web sites that are “entertainment” based, I was streaming more hentai 3D monster porn yesterday when I unfortunately stumbled upon what looked like a front for really horrible porn that uses young Asian women who are most probably victims of human sex trafficking.

It absolutely turned my stomach. If you have had enough experience with producers of  professional porn, the difference in “regular” porn — even BDSM porn — and porn that exploits slavery and uses actual slaves against their will is often glaringly obvious: the women (or children) look terrified, demoralized, drugged and/or half-dead.

I reported the company on the National Human Trafficking website. It’s hard to say if anything can come from it — the “production” company is based in Los Angeles, but the videos themselves were from Asia.

You know, if you live in the US, and you think any type of human trafficking is going on — porn, prostitution, or labor-related– you can easily report it anonymously, through sending a message or live chat on their website (humantraffickinghotline.org/), calling them 1-888-373-7888 ( TTY: 711) or texting them, 233733.

That stuff just makes me so sick. I just can’t tell you.

On another topic…

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand File today that was one of those really eloquent ones.  Be sure to set aside plenty of time to read it and take in the full scope of it. I am, of course, just kidding. It’s one of those replies that is only one word. But, still — it was a really good word. You can read it here.

Well, all righty!! That’s it for today, gang. Depending on whether or not I hear from Valerie today, I’m either working on the finishing touches for the publication of The Guitar Hero Goes Home, or I’m working on some new stuff for Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.

And in the middle of all of it, I eagerly await the arrival of my new vacuum cleaner!!

So, have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning — “Right Now I’m A-Roaming”, 1997, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (It’s come out on a  few things, but I know it from their 2005 collection B-Sides & Rarities.) I’ve posted it here a couple of times before, but here it is again! So, enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“Right Now I’m A-roaming”

When I get home, I’m gunna clean up my house
When I get home, I’m gunna kick out that mouse
When I get home, I’m gunna put things in order
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna make that call
When I get home, I’m gunna talk it through
When I get home, I’m gunna straighten it out
but right now, right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna give up the booze
When I get home, I’m gunna get me some food
When I get home, I’m gunna quit them drugs
but right now, right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna call my mother
When I get home, I’m gunna cook her some dinner
When I get home, I’m gunna invite my brothers
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna see my little boy
When I get home, I’m buy him a little toy
When I get home, he’s gunna jump for joy
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna unpack my bags
When I get home, I’m gunna waash these dirty rags
When I get home, I’m gunna pack ’em up again
but I’m gunna go, I’m gunna go, I’m gunna go right back roaming.

© – 1997 Martyn Casey, Mick Harvey, Conway Savage, Thomas Wydler, Nick Cave

Yesterday Was Wonder-Filled!

Okay, well, sorry I didn’t post here yesterday. But I did, indeed, have just a splendid little day.

I started out thinking I was going to post here, as I usually do, but then I got on the treadmill and made the mistake of streaming another episode from Season 3 of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries while on the treadmill, and had so much fun that from that moment forward, my entire day went off onto its own little primrose path.

I split the day between streaming even more episodes from Season 3 of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, and streaming many happy hours of hentai 3D monster porn (do not watch those videos if you have an issue with questionable consent — and if you do, consider yourself forewarned). (In a big way.)

And then I spent some time with my many flowers — it was just a stunningly perfect day yesterday. Sunny, warm, but not too hot. And I also cleaned the house a little bit.

And here’s a great thing: I had to order a new vacuum cleaner!!  I knew my other one was getting ready to bite the dust, as it were.  Not just too many years of cat hair but also cat litter, which I think takes a really heavy toll on a vacuum cleaner.

Anyway, I used mine yesterday until the very last second, when the motor got really loud and I could start smelling smoke… But I was still able to vacuum the whole house except for the stairs. So any available, perhaps somewhat “disposable” income that could have been used for buying something really cool at Nick Cave’s cavethings.com went instead toward buying an exciting new vacuum cleaner…

Oh well. But be sure to check that cavethings.com  link there because new items are coming soon!! (I, personally, am still holding out for the collection of tiles and I am hoping they won’t cost £300, but I’m not really holding my breath…)

Load image into Gallery viewer, THE ‘DREAD’ TILESWell, gang, the plans for the online staged reading of my play Tell My Bones get more and more exciting. I believe we have a firm date for the pre-recorded “live” stream: Sunday evening (Eastern Time, but I don’t know the exact time yet) November 8th. With rehearsals beginning in October.

I have a phone call with the director here in a few minutes that will update me on all the latest plans and I just can’t tell you how excited I am that so many talented people are getting onboard.

Okay, well it is Monday, which means that, once the phone call is over, I drive into town to get the groceries, and then once I get back home, I plan to finish reading Whatever Comes My Way: Travels in the Netherlands by my friend, Roger Gaess. And once that is done, I start reading a new (as yet unpublished) novel by another good friend, Mark Pritchard, who lives out in San Francisco. So, even while I didn’t actually do any work whatsoever yesterday, my daily calendar of things to focus on is really continuing to help me stay on top of all this stuff I need/want to do.

All righty, gang. I’m going to close this and get ready for my phone call. Yesterday, was the 43rd anniversary of the death of the King. Yes — Elvis Preseley. I found out on Instagram yesterday that the last song Elvis ever sang (at home on his piano) was “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” (a Country & Western standard, written by Fred Rose). So I’m leaving you with that today. Thanks for visiting, gang!! I hope you have a great Monday, wherever you are in this beautiful world. I love you guys. See ya.

“Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain”

In the twilight glow I see her
Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain
When we kissed goodbye and parted
I knew we’d never meet again

Love is like a dyin’ ember
Only memories remain
Through the ages I’ll remember
Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain

Some day when we meet up yonder
We’ll stroll hand in hand again
In a land that knows no partin’
Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain

© 1947 Fred Rose

All the Joys of Getting There!!

Yes, yes, yes!! I am almost done with the manuscript side of things; now just waiting for Valerie to finish up the cover art layout. Then I have to run a test print of the book, and THEN …

The Guitar Hero Goes Home will get published. Finally. Yay!!

And then I can focus on finishing up the other 4 (FOUR!!!) books that are in one or another stages of progress around here.

And then, at some point in the not-yet-foreseeable future, I’m going to finish writing Down to the Meadows of Sleep, but that novel is way on the back burner for now. Even though I  love it. But it is a magic realism murder mystery, and in order to make it truly work, I need to give it 110% of my attention. And right now, I have about .006% of attention to give anything on any given day.

Okay!! Don’t get jealous or anything, but here are my current reading materials!! Combined, they come to about 1000 pages of dry boring informative reading!!

These slim pamphlets were recommended by the entertainment attorneys who taught that recent webinar I took on equity financing vs. debt financing for securing film funding, etc., regarding Abstract Absurdity Productions.

You can’t tell from the angle of this photo, but both books are, well — not slender at all.

(I hope this doesn’t disappoint you, or anything, but I actually do love reading books like this. So I’m looking forward to tackling them.)

Okay, onward to other topics!!

I don’t know if you’re into Russell Brand or not, but he has a channel on YouTube and on Instagram where basically he just gives his opinion on things, and I actually really enjoy watching it. I guess because I almost always agree with him — funny how easy it is to enjoy people you agree with!

His current installment is about the WAP video with Cardi B. and Megan Thee Stallion. I’ve posted the Russell Brand video down below today.

If you haven’t seen the WAP video, it’s gotten some people really upset — calling it porn and saying it’s sending women’s empowerment back one million years, etc.

It’s not a type of music I enjoy listening to– regardless of the gender identification of whoever’s singing it– and being a hardcore fan of hardcore porn, I’d rather just watch (hardcore) porn.

But to me, the WAP video is just plain old commercialism with an emphasis on Capitalist extremism. It isn’t even art.  I look at a video like that, and I don’t really see the reason to get so upset. All they want is for your testosterone to hit your wallet somehow — and preferably as quickly as possible. That’s it. You know, stop looking if it’s bothering you.

For me, the only way that video would upset me is if I was being, for some reason, forced to watch it rather than being allowed to watch a million other things on Pornhub. Then I’d be super upset. But I did indeed like Russell Brand’s take on it. (I think I’m way more of a Capitalist than he is, but still, I agreed with him.)

All right! So on to the very best news imaginable — I hope it’s not too soon to say this!! But this fall (somewhere around late September to mid-October) a theater production company based in Harlem will be producing a live stream staged reading of my play, Tell My Bones. Finally!!!!!!

I am so excited, gang, I cannot even tell you!! The production company is Harlem Shakespeare Festival (aka Take Wing and Soar Productions). They primarily fund all-black productions of Shakespeare and other classics, but they are producing a reading of my play under their auspices, and the woman who runs the company will be reading the role of Helen LaFrance (Sandra decided a few months back that she  wanted to read the role of Wanda — the character that has the new (old) song about lynchings, which left the Helen role wide-open and available for somebody awesome).

I am just so excited. I will keep you posted. And I hope you’ll buy a ticket to watch the streaming event, if it streams in the country you live in.

Okay. I guess I better scoot and get back to work on the manuscript. I should have it totally completed today. I hope you enjoy your Saturday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang!! I love you guys. See ya.

Really Gotta Scoot, Gang!!

It is already super, super, SUPER sunny here today, and it’s going to be very hot. So I want to get an early start into town to get the groceries.

I don’t want to complain, though, because the rest of the week is supposed to be overcast and full of thunderstorms. Of course the crops need the rain. But anyway. I’m going to try to make the best out of the sun today, but stay out of it as much as I can.

Last night’s episode of Endeavor was definitely worth waiting one year for. (I noticed in the opening credits last night that it’s actually spelled the British way: Endeavour. Only took me 7 years to notice this.)

I’m not crazy about watching it on the flat screen TV with the firestick 4, though, because it is so intensely HD that it has that “live” look to it — the “film” quality is completely gone. I actually wound up switching halfway through it, and going back to watching it on the iPad.

But everything else looks okay on the firestick 4, although it still seems so weird to have the TV in the kitchen.  I was watching a special about Viking Warrior Women last evening and suddenly noticed that I actually had both my legs — bare feet included — up on the kitchen table  while I was leaning back in my chair (!!!). Jesus. That’s a little too bohemian for me…

Anyway. Where to put the TV is the worst of my troubles right now.

Today is “reading other writers’ works” day! So I’ll be back in the Netherlands (mentally), reading Whatever Comes My Way: Travels in the Netherlands, by Roger Gaess. Today, I’m going to find out about Zwolle, Eindhoven, Venlo, and Maastricht! (I don’t know if I’m going to find out how to pronounce the names of those cities, but I feel certain that we’re going to find out where all the bars are!!)

Yesterday was a bit of a washout.  I wrote nothing new on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town. I simply could not get the brain to function properly — it just kept drifting away from me (see yesterday’s post re: how the morning started out). That stuff kind of depresses me when it happens, but oh well. The week’s over. On Friday, I can get back to work on Thug Luckless.

By late yesterday afternoon, I finally gave up on trying to write. So I streamed some things on  the TV, waiting for the magical hour of 9pm, when Endeavour came on. I watched the above-mentioned Viking Warrior Women thing (fascinating, actually), and then another great episode of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries. And then I also watched Napoleon Dynamite.

I had never seen that movie. It was a huge hit among teenagers back when it came out, but I was 44 when it came out! Anyway, I know that now it’s sort of culturally iconic so I wanted to finally watch it. I really enjoyed it. It was a very sweet & touching film, overall. And I did laugh out loud at a lot of it.

I took a walk over to the cemetery, too. Not to look at the graves, so much, as to see the panorama of cornfields.  The cornfields are everywhere around here, and the corn is really tall now. It’s so pretty to look at it. For as far as the eye can see now, the valleys are filled with rows and rows of corn, and then the valleys are surrounded by green hills, covered in trees. Just really pretty to look at. Helps me forget all the COVID nonsense.

Meanwhile, more wonderful developments re: Tell My Bones. I’ll keep you updated when I can start blogging about it. I’m super excited by the potential prospects.

Okay, that’s it today, gang. I’m going to head into town now. Have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my listening music from this morning — Bob Dylan, “It’s All Good,” from his Together Through Life album (2009). (Below is a live version, the only version I could find, but it’s all good!!!) All righty! Enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“It’s All Good”

Talk about me babe, if you must.
Throw out the dirt; pile on the dust.
I’d do the same thing if I could
You know what they say? They say it’s all good.
All good.
It’s all good.

Big politician telling lies;
Restaurant kitchen all full of flies.
Don’t make a bit of difference; don’t see why it should.
But it’s alright, cause its all good.
Its all good.
Its all good.

Wives are leavin’ their husbands; they’re beginning to roam.
They leave the party and they never get home.
I wouldn’t change it even if I could
You know what they say, man, it’s all good.
It’s all good.
All good.

Brick by brick, they tear you down.
A teacup of water is enough to drown.
You oughta know, if they could, they would
Whatever goin’ down, it’s all good.

All good.
Said it’s all good.

People in the country, People on the land.
Some of them so sick they can hardly stand.
Everybody would move away if they could
Its hard to believe but its all good.
Yeah…

Well widows cry; the orphans plea.
Everywhere you look there’s more misery.
Come along with me babe, I wish you would.
You know what I’m sayin’, it’s all good.

All good.
I said it’s all good.
All good.

Cold blooded killer stomp into town
Cop car’s blinkin’, something bad goin’ down.
Buildings are crumblin, in the neighborhood.
But there’s nothing to worry about, cause it’s all good.
It’s all good.
I say it’s all good.

Gonna whistle and blow it in your face.
This time tomorrow I’ll be rollin’ in your place.
I wouldn’t change a thing even if I could.
You know what they say?
They say it’s all good.
It’s all good.
It’s all good.

© 2009 Bob Dylan

A Whacked-Out Sunday is Certainly Underway in Crazeysburg!

Just one of those days, gang.

I did not want to get out of bed (eventually, though, I did).

I did NOT (capital letters there) want to get on the treadmill this morning, but after sitting on the edge of my bed and staring at stuff for almost 2 hours, I finally forced myself to go downstairs and get on the fucking treadmill.

Then I showered. Washed my hair. I have all the earmarks of someone who’s actually doing stuff here this morning, but I am struggling to make that happen.

Mostly, I know how depressed I can get if I avoid doing stuff, so I try to just make it happen. Plus, I’ve lost 7 pounds now. 5 more pounds and I’m back to pre-COVID weight. So I don’t want to lose sight of that.

Well, that documentary on Creem Magazine (Creem: America’s Only  Rock & Roll Magazine), was really good.  I can’t emphasize enough how that magazine shaped my perception of myself and music and New York City in the 1970s, and had a lot to do with me moving to NYC in 1980 (rather than to Nashville, which was where a lot of people said I should have moved).

It was really cool to see the interviews with some of the musicians who were around my age, who were also just as influenced by Creem. It was quite a magazine, there was just nothing like it.

The documentary is mostly about the people who started it and how & why it got started, and the personalities involved (many of the writers there became quite well known). Lots of 1970s-excesses, though, which lead, sadly to suicides and accidental deaths by overdose.

Plus, the zine was so indescribably politically incorrect that by today’s standards, people now would start twitter-storms and social media hate bombs. All that nonsense. There was never a racial problem with Creem — because back then, the music from the black communities and the white communities usually mixed. But the writers at Creem were often insensitive to absolutely everyone’s feelings — expecting the people they wrote about to stand up for themselves (they did!). And they were also writing simply to provoke and to get readers worked up and involved.

The magazine was actually really fun. And fucking funny. (For the reader, anyway.) I definitely enjoyed watching the documnetary and taking that trip down memory lane, where people weren’t so intensely hung up on stuff (politics).

Plus, I miss rock & roll. Which is just basically dead now.

Creem magazine's wild misfit days of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll

All righty. Good news continues to develop regarding Tell My Bones, but I still can’t blog about it. But it’s certainly helping me feel like there is something on the horizon besides more and more COVID and more and more shouting about politics.

I’m hoping to just focus on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town today, but then tonight!!! Season 7 of Endeavor begins on PBS!!!!! And I, for one, cannot wait!!

Amazon.com: Watch Masterpiece: Endeavour, Season One | Prime Video

Well, I think that’s about it for today, gang.  I hope you have a terrific Sunday, wherever you are in this wonderful world.  Thanks for visiting. I leave you with the Everly Brothers this morning! I am currently listening to their Greatest Hits during the wee small hours of dawn. And this is certainly one of them: “Love Hurts.” (If you’re too young to know who the Everly Brothers were, they were actual brothers from Kentucky who sang and harmonized together like angels.) (Egos eventually got too big and they split up, but before that happened, they had tons of huge hits.) Okay, well, enjoy! I love you guys. See ya.

Here Comes Sunday!!

Okay, well, if you’re here wondering what happened to the new flash-memoir piece I posted here last night — I only wanted it up for about 12 hours. Since it’s brand new & unpublished, I didn’t want it to get too many views yet.

But thank you for all the “likes.”  I appreciate it.

Today has been one of those days where I had to try to just get myself on automatic and make myself do stuff. It was one of those mornings where I didn’t really even want to get out of bed.

Well, I mean, I got up at my usual 5am, fed everyone, did all my millions of Inner Being Journal-type thingies down at the kitchen table, then went back upstairs and meditated, then went BACK to bed, and then didn’t feel like getting out of bed.

(I know, I am, like, just fucking neurotic. If you think I’d be hard to live with, imagine how I feel when I wake up each morning, 60 years running now, and realize: oh my god, she’s still here.…)

Okay, anyway.

I somehow managed to get on the treadmill, even though I absolutely did not want to work out today. And then, after my shower, I even forced myself to finally cut my hair. I cut off three inches and my hair still hits just below my shoulders. It had gotten so long. I really, really didn’t want to cut it because I love long hair, but it wasn’t really looking very attractive. So it had to go.

While I’m waiting on PBS Passport to air the new season of Endeavor (in 7 days), I’ve been splitting up my time in the evenings watching both the old Season 2 of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (which I watched 6 years ago, when it was new, but I don’t remember much of it so that’s fun), and then a newer show (also on Acorn TV), Dead Still.

That one is only a 6-part show, but I like it a lot. It’s quirky. The only drawback is that most of the characters have such heavy Irish accents that a lot of the dialogue I don’t actually understand. But I can still follow the plot. It’s not that tricky. And it’s really fun.

But as I had feared, having the Acorn TV subscription again is giving me way too many options for TV shows that really, really appeal to me.  And I really don’t like watching (streaming) TV. It makes me feel like I’m wasting time.

Sometimes I try to convince myself that it’s “research” and it’s giving me an opportunity to see all the great new television writing that’s out there — and that’s partly true. But I have so much reading I could get caught up on in the evenings. Just during the pandemic, I’ve bought 20 new books.  And so far, I’ve only finished reading about 3 or 4 of them.

Even though I need structure, otherwise I sit around, staring, and that almost always leads to terrible, terrible places; I still have just so much structure to my days, that it can start to make me go completely insane.

At some point before I die, I would really like to figure out how to just enjoy myself, without having a single darn thing to do from morning until night. I think I would really love that, as long as I had some sort of keeper, you know, who would keep my mind distracted.

Well, I did not make much headway with Thug Luckless yesterday, because I had to take another webinar mid-afternoon, and I wanted to take it in “real time” and not stream it later on.  And then, on the heels of that, I had a great phone conversation with Kevin (director of Tell My Bones) about potential stuff for the staged reading of the play, which was really exciting. However. That all sort of skewed my energy for the rest of the day.

Today, however, I have nothing left on my schedule that I need to do but work on Thug Luckless, so that’s pretty cool. I am hoping that it’s going to be a productive day.  (Yes, I know — I’ve just spent the last 5 hours doing what most people spread out over an entire day, so hoping that the day “is productive” is just fucking insane.)

Oh well. You know, if I didn’t have these cats counting on me — I realize that Kafka had TB, and that he eventually died from it, but I used to think that it was so cool that he would just go off and disappear in a  sanitarium in the mountains for huge chunks of time and try to “get well.” (Kafka was almost as neurotic as I am.) (I’m just kidding, gang — he was one of the most neurotic writers that ever lived.) But sometimes, I just wish I could go off somewhere and “get well.” I really do!!

Franz Kafka - Wikipedia
One of my favorite writers (and men) of all time.

Okay. On that note. Let me get going here. I hope you’re having a great Sunday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with absolutely nothing today because what have I been listening to? Yes, that’s right — IZ singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” over and over and over. I think that makes about 3 or 4 days running, doesn’t it? I have probably listened to it about 800 times now. And I don’t seem to be getting tired of it yet. (Methinks I would like to get to that place over the rainbow, but I’m not entirely certain about that yet!!)

All righty. Enjoy your day. I love you guys. See ya.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow (Art Pepper) drawing / Ian Johnson

Finally, A Little Good News!

Yesterday was sort of a good day, by the end of it.

The Ab Ab Pro phone call was frustrating, just because there is such an enormous amount of work to do. And both of us are more than a little frustrated with the entire world still moving at a snail’s pace because of COVID. And everything always needing more and more money to move to the next step. (I was not looking forward to telling Peitor the financial details of what the accountant had told me, but obviously, I had to.)

So far, in the 35+ years that Peitor and I have known each other, we don’t argue. Which doesn’t mean that most of the time we see eye to eye on things, because we absolutely do not.  But we don’t argue about it.

But yesterday we were at this sort of point — after 2 hours of going over the financial figures for various parts of our production company —  where we were talking to each other in this really measured, careful way — each word under a microscope — like we were in marriage counseling or something and trying not to explode at each other. It was sort of bizarre and definitely exhausting, emotionally. For both of us.

Working Together Clipart at GetDrawings | Free download

 

When we finally hung up, I really wasn’t able to get too much done on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town, because I was so drained. I’m hoping, though, that today will be really creative for me regarding Thug.

But then, last evening, Kevin, the director of my play Tell My Bones, called with some incredible news regarding another potential zoom broadcast of a staged reading of the play — and this one is really, really exciting, gang.

I can’t go into the details on the blog yet, but, man — it was really great news. And I could start to feel again what life had felt like before the virus hit the world and brought every single one of my projects to a crashing halt.

So, that is making me happy. And I have two days ahead of me, free and clear, to work on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town. So, I’m feeling like maybe I can take some time now, block out the stuff that sort of stresses me out, and just focus on the manuscript that’s in front of me and just feel really happy about it.

Plus, that little cat that  I call Henrietta — actually I just call her “little sweetheart” — stopped by to visit us around 6am, so I hung out on my kitchen porch with her for a few minutes. She makes me so happy because, unlike any of my 7 feral cats,  she lets me cuddle her!! She hasn’t come around in a couple weeks, so it was such a nice surprise to see her cute little face suddenly pop up at the kitchen window.  (Now, if only a little alpaca would come visit!!)

Okay, well, I hope you have a similar day ahead of you — stress-free and really creative! And maybe even an unexpected visit on your kitchen porch from one of God’s delightful little creatures. I have nothing to leave you with today because last night and this morning, I was still listening to Israel Kamakawiwo’ole singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” endlessly on repeat (see yesterday’s post for that link). Well, actually I did also listen to Blixa Bargeld singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” (1995), because William at the a1000mistakes blog over in Australia sent me a link to it during the night. So I’ll leave you with that! Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you have a great Saturday. I love you guys. See ya.