Tag Archives: Tell My Bones: The Helen LaFrance Story

A Lovely Morning So Far!!

October 9, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

For whatever reason — I guess the Autumn Equinox — I now get up at 4am and get out of bed! Whereas, I used to get up at 4am and just lie there for an hour.

Anyway, luckily, I was more than wide awake at 5am for the Bad Seed TeeVee chat-a-long to the Lawless soundtrack (Nick Cave & Warren Ellis). (I will say it again: that is such a beautiful soundtrack, gang; so atmospheric.)

It was fun. At one point I looked at the number of people in the chat and it was something like 900, but most people weren’t actually chatting. So it wasn’t completely insane.

And now it is 7am here and still completely dark out. So you really know it’s fall.

I spent a good chunk of my afternoon yesterday with Kevin, the director of my play (Tell My Bones) and his husband, Chris. So I did not get as much done on the new erotic short story as I had hoped. About 4 or 5 hours, at the most. It is still really challenging. I know what I want to say, but for some reason, I keep hesitating to say it — or write it, I mean.

(And on a side note — I spent about an hour chatting on the phone yesterday with an older gentleman I met through Gus Van Sant Sr. Well, we didn’t meet, we spoke on the phone about my play, via Gus. And at one point, I said something like, “I’ve been doing it a long time, already. I’m 60 years old…” And he said, “You’re kidding me! You sound like a kid!!”)

YAY!!!! Twice in one week…..

Oh, and, at one point yesterday, while I was talking to Chris about something, I noticed he was staring at my neck. I was wearing a sort of hippy-chick blouse that had a deep “V” neckline, and I didn’t ask him, but I just knew he was thinking: Man, no way does her neck look 60 years old….

(YES!! All those many miraculous skin products from France strike again!!) (Yes, yet again, another new product from France. First, they gave a jar of it to me for free. Then, they gave me another jar at half-price. We’ll see what happens after this, because it is really expensive but now I am hooked on it…) (As usual.)

1958 Beauty Ad, Avon Cosmetics & Skin Care Products, with 1950's Super-Model Anne St. Marie | Vintage makeup ads, Vintage cosmetics, Avon cosmetics — Me, yesterday!!! So youthful-looking!!!

Okay, anyway.

So, yesterday was nice even though I didn’t get enough work done on the new story. And I did finally get to chat with Valerie for the first time since her mom died. And the weather was just really, really lovely yesterday. All the trees have changed colors and it was mild enough to not need a jacket or anything. Just perfect weather. It was really a nice drive over to Kevin’s mansion on the hill.

So today, we will try again to make some significant headway with the new story. I guess what we really need is to make headway with myself — get myself to stop hesitating and just write the story the way it is asking me to tell it. Because the story is all up here in my head. I’m the one who is laboring over how to tell it. So we’ll work on that.

As of, like, right now.

So, thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you have a really nice Friday, wherever you are in the world. Last night, I was listening to the 6 songs that have now been dropped for next week’s upcoming release of Tom Petty’s Wildflowers & All the Rest. (Listening to them over & over, actually. In my bed , in the dark. Thinking about life. And, of course, death, because now I can’t stop thinking about one without the other.) And I really love that song, “Leave Virginia Alone.”

Today, I’m gonna leave you with Rod Stewart’s version of it, though. He had a hit with it back in 1995. Listen and enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“Leave Virginia Alone”

Well they chased her
Down the alley
And over the hill
To steel her will
She was as hot as
Georgia asphalt
When the A-crowd came
To adore her brain

So leave Virginia alone
Leave Virginia alone
She’s not like you
And me
She’s not like you
And me

You should’ve seen her
Back in the city
Poetry and jewels
Broke all the rules
She was as high as
A Georgia pine tree
Makeup and pills,
Overdue bills

So Leave Virginia alone
Leave Virginia alone
She’s not like you
And me
She’s not like you
And me

Some sunny day
When the hands of time have
Gone their way
You’ll understand
Why it was so hard
To run away
To run away

She’s a loser
She’s a forgiver
She still finds good
Where no one could
You ought to want her
More than money
Cadillacs and rust
Diamonds and dust

So Leave Virginia alone
Leave Virginia alone
She’s not like you
And me
She’s not like you
And me

Ah, yeah
Leave Virginia alone
Leave Virginia alone
She’s not like you
And me
She’s not like you
And me

Ah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ,…

La, la, la, leave her alone

Oh, Virginia
Oh, Virginia
Leave her alone

We’re Gonna Try Again Today

October 3, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 3 Comments

Yesterday was intense, gang.

I don’t know if that full moon was factoring in to things, or not. But emotionally, I was all over the place yesterday.

The happy stuff was that my lunch with Kevin, the director of Tell My Bones, was so much fun. He had some initial casting questions, regarding actors, but other than that, we just talked about all kinds of stuff and laughed a lot and had a really nice break from the intensity of our lives.

And then, almost the moment I got back home, my ex-husband in NYC called to chat. He actually bought the print edition of The Guitar Hero Goes Home and was reading it!!

He said he would give me his feedback when he’d finished reading it, but he asked, “How can people think there isn’t a lot of sex in this book?”

Well, by the standards of “erotica” there’s not a lot of sex in it. By anyone else’s standards, I guess there’s a ton of sex in it… (I do have it listed as “appropriate for over 18 only”)

I give up, though — trying to figure how to market anything I write. There’s always either too much sex or not enough.

But it was so nice that he actually bought the book.

And then my other friend Kevin called! The one who lives in Montana most of the year (and the one who my ex-husband visited while on his vacation out West this summer!). It was so nice to chat with him. He’s planning to come back to Ohio soon, but only for one month and then he’s planning to go off to Chile and Argentina for a while, if COVID doesn’t get in the way of that. So I’m not sure if that vintage 1965 VW camper van of his will remain in my barn indefinitely or not.

So that was really just great — to have all those people to talk to you yesterday, including actually seeing another human being!

But in between all that, I would sink rapidly back into a depression. For a few reasons, many of which involve people who are not getting back to me about things that are very important to me (some other things I wrote, and also stuff related to another play). I’m beginning to feel like I don’t exist.

But part of me is trying to convince myself that “not hearing from people” is actually a good sign…

And I’m still trying to get them to come pick up the 8 yard waste bags filled with dead hydrangea blossoms that are sitting at the curb (since Tuesday). 6 phone calls. Each phone call guaranteeing me that the truck is coming, and it never comes… Yesterday afternoon, the customer support person said the truck came by and couldn’t find any yard waste.

How can you not see 8 enormous brown yard waste bags filled with enormous hydrangea blossoms at the curb? Finally, the last phone call I made to them yesterday to see if they’d get here before the weekend started — the lady told me I’d be better off just putting them in my trash bin and having them picked up as trash on Wednesday.

It broke my heart, you know. Literally. Because I’m neurotic and I can’t treat all these beautiful blossoms like “trash.” But now I have to. So I stuffed them into my trash bin and now there’s no room left for my regular trash between now and Wednesday.

I actually cried doing that — not only because that’s how fucking sensitive I am, but because, you know, why didn’t the guy who picked up the trash on Wednesday — yes, the very same guy who moved all 8 yard waste bags one foot away from my trash bin — just put them in the garbage truck, since he was actually holding them??

I hate when things make no sense and then I’m the one who ends up feeling crazy.

Well, one nice thing — I was sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner and trying to stop streaming that Brian Jones documentary because it keeps making me so fucking sad: I saw a woman walk by on the sidewalk and then she stopped and pulled one of the yard waste bags from out of my bin and took a whole bunch of those hydrangea blossoms home with her. I don’t know if she’s going to dry them or what. But I felt so happy that someone was going to use them, probably as decorations in some way.

I can’t bring anything like that indoors because all 7 of my crazy cats destroy that kind of thing over night.

Another nice thing is that the little house across Basin Street is finally going to get some inhabitants!

When I first moved in here, the woman who owned that little house was in a nursing home, and she has since passed away. Her son comes by periodically to take care of the grass, etc., but it’s been a totally empty house. But the son has been getting it ready for some people to move in — an older couple, it looks like. It will be so nice to finally have some life over there.

Here is the little house, this morning, as the full moon was just barely visible through the fog. It looks like a really weird house from this side of it, but it’s actually really cute. And has 2 porches and a deck.

At one point, I was hoping my birth mom could either rent that house, or we could buy it for her. But my sister didn’t want her living that far away, and I don’t think my birth mom wanted to live that close to me, 24/7 — because I’m sort of crazy, in case this blog has not alerted you to that.

Whereas, both of my sisters are intensely not crazy. They’re super grown up and serious about everything. (And I’m actually the eldest.)

Well, okay.

Last night, I was listening to some lovely Morgana King music in the dark, in my bed. Trying to seek out reasons to be really happy about all these people who are treating me like I’m invisible. (This song in particular, is so lovely):

And then I started poking around in my music, and I discovered that Bruce Springsteen has actually dropped another new song for his upcoming album, Letter To You. It’s called “Ghosts,” and it blew me away for 2 reasons: one, being that it was that anniversary of Tom Petty’s death yesterday and it made me think a little bit of Tom Petty.

But it also made me think of The Guitar Hero Goes Home — my new novel. It really did. It just kicked my heart so hard.

Because, you know, it’s always just me and the thoughts that are in my head. It’s been like that for as long as I can even remember. I’ve always been very isolated by my thoughts, even as a really little girl. And then at some point, my thoughts make it on to paper and go out in the world, and they either sell or don’t sell, but then I’m always right back to being alone with the thoughts that are in my head.

But even though The Guitar Hero Goes Home is fiction — I made it up, it just came to me out of the blue two summers ago, when I was so in love; but even though he’s fiction, that guy in that novel is so real to me. Just so real. For me, he lives. And I love him like he’s “real.” And so that new Springsteen song “Ghosts” just hit me so hard.

And not in a bad way, but a very intense way, and it reminded me of how isolated I really am. And I don’t guess that, as this point, it’s going to ever really change. I guess that this particular lifetime is just all about managing alone.

Okay, well. I’m going to get started here. Yoga and then put some more of those thoughts down on paper and call it a short story.

I hope you have a great Saturday underway, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting!! I love you guys. See ya.

“Ghosts”

I hear the sound of your guitar
Comin’ from the mystic far
Stone and the gravel in your voice
Come in my dreams and I rejoice

It’s your ghost moving through the night
Your spirit filled with light
I need, need you by my side
Your love and I’m alive

I can feel the blood shiver in my bones
I’m alive and I’m out here on my own
I’m alive and I’m comin’ home

Old buckskin jacket you always wore
Hangs on the back of my bedroom door
Boots and the spurs you used to ride
Click down the hall but never arrive

It’s just your ghost moving through the night
Your spirit filled with light
I need, need you by my side
Your love and I’m alive

I can feel the blood shiver in my bones
I’m alive and I’m out here on my own
I’m alive and I’m comin’ home

Your old Fender Twin from Johnny’s Music downtown
Still set on 10 to burn this house down
Count the band in, then kick into overdrive
By the end of the set we leave no one alive

Ghosts runnin’ through the night
Our spirits filled with light
I need, need you by my side
Your love and I’m alive

I shoulder your Les Paul and finger the fretboard
I make my vows to those who’ve come before
I turn up the volume, let the spirits be my guide
Meet you, brother and sister, on the other side

I’m alive, I can feel the blood shiver in my bones
I’m alive and I’m out here on my own
I’m alive and I’m comin’ home
Yeah, I’m comin’ home

I Found A Little Tiny Place That Saved Me

October 2, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 4 Comments

Finally. I found a teeny-tiny link that would let me access the classic editor.

To be fair-ish, I think that WordPress thinks there are readily accessed links to get to the old editor but none of those links worked. Hence, my complete meltdown this morning, after clicking link after link after link…

But anyway. For now, I have my blog back and I cannot imagine why anyone on Earth thinks the new editor is easier to use than this older one is.

I’m going to try to have a good day here. But it’s sort of been a battle since waking up this morning. Regardless of the whole blog incident. Trying to see certain people in the best light. Trying to just have faith, trust that things will go in the best direction for everyone even if it means letting them go, try not to think that people you rely on to be decent and be your “friend” totally have their own interests at heart.

That kind of of thing.

Most days, I can handle it, because it’s called “life”. Other days, it adds to the piles of straw that breaks the wee bonny camel’s back.

The bright spot on the horizon today is that I’m having lunch with the director of my play, Tell My Bones, and I am really, really looking forward to being in the presence of another human being. (And a human being who has actually been really, really supportive of me from day one.) As I said yesterday, it’s been 3 months now since I’ve seen anyone that I actually know. (Texting and talking on the telephone is great but it doesn’t actually count, you know?)

I do like living in the middle of nowhere, gang, but I don’t like having no meaningful or even just fun interactions with human beings. It is going on 7 months now, this whole virus thing. (As if you didn’t know.) And even though I know that for a few people I know, the virus has caused them to be in really close quarters with people they love or are married to and it has driven the relationships to the breaking point — it’s still people to interact with!!!!

All I have are cats — and they aren’t even domestic cats. So, basically, they all run away from me when I enter a room (unless it’s time to eat). Sometimes, it just feels like too much. That this virus crap is never gonna end.

Okay. Onward from that.

This is not actually a topic that is any cheerier, but I did see the results a survey this week, of 20,000 American college students regarding their thoughts on freedom of speech & expression, and tolerance vs. intolerance, violence as a suitable option against people who disagree with you, and how your specific University handles all that.

The majority of students who responded said they felt they did not feel comfortable expressing themselves to other students or to faculty. Which is so sad. The worst colleges for safe self-expression tended to be Liberal ones, as well as in the Ivy League.

The University of Chicago got the highest rating for protecting the rights of its students & faculty, though.

But what I found really interesting — and not in a good way — when it came to intolerance of other students and faculty, liberal female students were the worst offenders, followed closely by LGBTQ+ students.

Intolerance is just an outcropping of fear. So this sort of shows that we haven’t made any real progress at all in “equality,” have we? We just somehow managed to instill in liberal women and people who identify as LGBTQ+ (these are both categories that I fit into, btw) that intolerance and violence are the necessary means for shutting people down who threaten your sense of yourself.

It is just amazing to me. And it’s also been interesting to see, over this summer of all these riots, looting, hate, anarchy, etc., that young conservative female students who have spoken out all seem to be much more emotionally centered, self-confident, and tolerant. So, everything from the “old days” seems to have reversed.

It’s just very, very interesting.

Okay. So. More “coming soon” things on Nick Cave’s Cave Things that are really cool!! You might want to go check them out. My favorite thing so far is a china milk jug!! However, me thinks it will once again be way, way, way out of my price range, but do not let this deter you!!

And also something that is sort of related, but not really — Warren Ellis and Blixa Bargeld are now both on Instagram!

All righty. That’s really kind of it here today. Due to my time-consuming meltdown here this morning, I have not yet done yoga. So I want to get going with that and then get a little writing done before heading out to meet Kevin for lunch.

It is indeed the 3rd anniversary of Tom Petty’s death today. What I prefer to focus on is that new album of his coming out in 2 weeks. They’ve dropped another new song, his own demo version of “Leave Virginia Alone,” which was a hit for Rod Stewart. (I pre-ordered the album, of course, so I get all the songs as they drop. I also pre-ordered Bruce Springsteen’s new one, Letter to You, and of course Nick Cave’s new one, Idiot Prayer: Nick Cave Alone at Berlin Alexanderplatz.) (Just kidding — it’s Nick Cave Alone at Alexandra Palace.)

However, all that said, I have decided to leave you with my breakfast-listening music from today, a very old Rolling Stones song, “You Better Move On.” I have loved it since I was a wee bonny girl. (Released in the UK in 1964, and in the USA in 1965, on their album December’s Children.) It was written by Arthur Alexander.

Okay. Enjoy. And thanks for visiting. I realize some of you have visited 3 times already this morning (!!) — I deleted the meltdown entries, though, and this is the official entry for today. So thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

Happy International Cat Throw-Up Day!!!

September 26, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 2 Comments

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…

Does It Get More Exciting??!!

September 24, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

I’m of course referring to the WEATHER!!

The next 3 days in a row, it’s going back up to 80 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny. So I can pretend, however briefly, that it’s not really fall.

Then, of course, as soon as it’s really undeniably fall, and all the leaves have changed and the October sky gets that shade of really deep blue — then I’ll act like “Yay! It’s Autumn!! My favorite time of year!!” And life will go on, ad infinitum.

I was actually conceived in the month of October — it’s the month I consider the moment I chose to come back to Life, so it’s a special month for me. All sad Tom Petty things notwithstanding. And also the death of my best friend Paul happened in October, as well. It’s a month I have a lot of attachment to.

Well, okay. So yesterday was a lot better. I moved forward with 1954 Powder Blue Pickup. I still have a ton of work to do on that gangbang section today. I really walk a fine line between keeping it believable, keeping it erotic, pushing the boundary of questionable consent, and yet not making it so realistic that I make myself sick…

But at least I’m getting there. And once that part is completed, there’s really only one more segment and the novella will be done!!

And then off to the publisher it goes for their consideration…

I forgot to give you a head’s up that the new date for the premiere streaming of the staged reading of my play, Tell My Bones, will be Sunday night November 22nd. Not November 8th. (Since this will be the anniversary of JFK’s assassination, perhaps it’s a lofty & important omen of some kind.) But I will keep you posted as it gets closer. And remember, it will be FREE!!

All right, well, once again, there is not much going on here besides working on the new novella and finally being in a better frame of mind again, too. It was a couple of difficult days, but they have officially passed.

Last evening was so lovely — I had all the windows open again and I just love that feeling that life is permeating the house. And I once again came to that understanding that death is only a transition, and that if anyone is waiting for me on that side of the veil, they’ll still be there when I get there. I don’t have to rush anything just because I’m lonely.

Also, quick update on The Guitar Hero Goes Home. The cover art has been fixed and is ready to upload. Yay!! And now I have to try to fix that formatting problem I have with the layout of the text. And then I’ll reload all of it to Amazon at one time. But that won’t happen until I finish writing 1954 Powder Blue Pickup. Meanwhile, the book is for sale, there’s nothing actually wrong with it — I just want it to look a little different. And, of course, the eBook is for sale, as well. No problems with that layout at all.

(And a huge thank you to all of you who are already buying it. I really appreciate it.)

And now! I will get yoga happening here, and get down to work.

Have a wonderful Thursday, wherever you are in the world and with whatever you’re getting up to! Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my late-night listening music from yesterday– a huge hit from The Monkees, circa 1967, and it is still a popular favorite among Monkees fans: “What Am I Doing Hangin’ Round?” From their album, Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, & Jones, Ltd. Okay!! Enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“What Am I Doing Hanging ‘Round?”

Just a loud mouth Yankee I went down to Mexico.
I didn’t have much time to spend, about a week or so.
There I lightly took advantage of a girl who loved me so.
But I found myself a-thinkin’ when the time had come to go…

[Chorus:]
What am I doin’ hangin’ round?
I should be on that train and gone.
I should be ridin’ on that train to San Antone,
What am I doin’ hangin’ round?

She took me to the garden just for a little walk.
I didn’t know much Spanish and there was no time for talk.
Then she told me that she loved me not with words but with a kiss.
And like a fool I kept on thinkin’ of a train I could not miss…

[Chorus]

Well it’s been a year or so, and I want to go back again.
And if I get the money, well I’ll ride the same old train.
But I guess your chances come but once and boy I sure missed mine.
And still I can’t stop thinkin’ when I hear some whistle cryin’….

Two Super Frosty Mornings In A Row!

September 20, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis 3 Comments

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

Yes, I’m Happy

September 18, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

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

Howdy, Howdy! Sorry I’m late!!

August 28, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

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

Happy Tuesday to All You Groovy Cats & Kittens!!

August 18, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

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.

Yesterday Was Wonder-Filled!

August 17, 2020 marilyn jaye lewis Leave a comment

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…)

Well, 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.