Tag Archives: Tell My Bones: The Helen LaFrance Story

Wow, That Felt Good!!

I am talking about the tech meeting on Zoom yesterday for the upcoming staged reading of my play, Tell My Bones.

I just kept in the background, off camera, and listened to everybody, since it wasn’t a meeting that needed me to be there, really. Except to answer one question about one of the songs in the opening scene.  But it was so exciting for me to see these people who are putting on the reading of my play. And to hear about all the really complicated stuff they are coordinating.

Yesterday, I listed here on the blog all the various tech people involved, but I found out at the meeting that there are an additional four people: one in charge of marketing and social media, and 3 marketing assistants. And that the marketing has already gotten underway. (Wow!!)

So this means, 10 tech people and 11 actors to bring this staged reading to life.  (And this is just a reading, not a performance!) That is just really thrilling to me.

There were a couple of things that I found interesting. The main one being that, once the play is written and a director and tech people get onboard, the play becomes theirs, really. Almost a living vehicle that has very little to do with the playwright (which is okay and how it should be, since live theater is a living thing).

Still, I have lived with this play, in its various stages of rewrites, for 8 years now. And suddenly it has taken on an identity that is entirely different — it is so full of life now. It is its own entity. It is really just thrilling to me. (And this isn’t even watching any of the actors yet — all the coordinating that’s happening now is just to get the play ready for the actors to give it even more life.)

The other thing that I found interesting was that, at first, I felt a little “less-than”, watching all these people in this meeting who hold important positions in theater and the execution of it, and they have these amazing higher educations (meaning, at the college level). And while I did go to college as a Theater Major, I didn’t last very long because I hated the college that my parents made me go to.  Even though it had a respected Theater Department, I hated the school and I hated the city it was in. But my parents made me go there because they considered me mentally ill, and while I did live at the college, I wasn’t allowed to be too far away from a parent in case I lost my mind again.

(I wish I was being sarcastic and funny here, but I’m not.)

My parents didn’t actually care what I thought I wanted to do with my life because they expected me to meet a wealthy man before college was even over, get married and become a wife. So, watching these people yesterday on the Zoom meeting, it made me wonder what my career could have been like had I been allowed to go to any of the Theater Colleges I’d really wanted to attend, or to even have my parents’ emotional involvement with my life and my dreams.

I dropped out of college after 3 and 1/2 months, and went to California to live for a really short while. But my point is that, at first I felt inferior to the all the tech people with their great NY-theater college educations and their experiences. But then I realized that they were at the Zoom meeting because they’d decided to get involved with a show that I wrote. And I realized that  that was really cool, regardless of my lack of education. (I did eventually get an Associate’s Degree in audio engineering in NYC, and then I went to Divinity School later in life and became a minister, so it’s not like I just wasted away or anything.)

And once I realized that I had written the play that gave these amazing people a project to undertake and to make their own, I remembered that when I came back from California, I was working at a factory but also working again as a model. And during one photo shoot, where I was feeling particularly unfulfilled — I was lamenting that I had hated college so much because I had really, really loved the theater. But I didn’t want to act. And I didn’t want to model, either.  I hated modeling. It made me feel really stupid but it paid great. What I wanted was to be a playwright and supply people with words to say.  To supply people with ideas.

(And it was right after that tedious photo shoot that the primary agent at my modeling agency told me that if I had trouble being treated like a piece of meat, I was in the wrong business…. That was my final modeling job, even though they called back and apologized for saying that to me.)

As a teenager, I had written one play — about gay ballet dancers in Russia in the early 1900s, of all things. But my primary form of writing back then was songwriting. So, really soon after leaving college, I was in NYC and was a singer-songwriter there for many years. But was also just hugely still in love with theater and many of my friends there were in the theater. (And my second husband, in fact, was a professional Shakespearean actor.)

But, anyway, yesterday, during that Zoom meeting, I recalled the one particular modeling job, where I was trying so hard to give the photographer what he wanted, but inside, I was dying a slow death because I felt so unfulfilled, and I really wished I could have stayed in college and become a playwright…

So yesterday afternoon was kind of an amazing feeling for me, gang. It really, really was. I am so grateful to these talented people who seem to really be in love with my play and with being involved in the staged reading of it.

By the way, I am going to try to have the event stream here on my blog, but you can now register to watch it at the main streaming site, FREE, by using this link:

tellmybones.eventbrite.com

Register at that link. The event is free!

If you aren’t able to watch it in that time zone (USA Eastern Standard Time), it will stream free for a few days on YouTube after the initial event. All righty. I think that is it for today, gang.

I hope you have a great Monday underway, wherever you are in the world.  I leave you with something I saw on Instagram very early this morning, that helped me sort of bounce out of bed, which I really needed: Nina Simone, singing a medley from the Broadway Musical Hair, an absolute favorite play from my wee bonny  girlhood — “Ain’t Got No/ I Got Life.” (I was listening to her live version, but the studio version is really good, too.) Listen and enjoy and bounce around your kitchen, if you so choose!! Okay, thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

Thank Heaven for Sundays!!

I am really excited because this afternoon, there is a tech meeting on Zoom regarding the staged reading of my play, Tell My Bones (coming up free online November 22nd).

This is the first time I will be listening in and seeing who all these people are who are bringing this whole thing together.  I know the director, of course, but there is a producer, a stage manager, an assistant stage manager, an assistant to the director, a musical director, and a person who manages and coordinates the streaming platform we’re using — called StreamYard. (All of the tech people are based in NY.)

So, that’s a lot of people on board, and it doesn’t even count the eleven actors, of whom I only know Sandra.

It is just all really, really exciting to me, gang. I’m trying to focus on that and not on the state of the virus– although, I am still really grateful that here in Muskingum County we only have one new active case. The statistics were released Friday and while it still makes me really happy, I still find it so hard to believe the county has been relatively unscathed by the pandemic. (Well, in terms of human lives, not in terms of what it’s costing everyone financially & spiritually.)

Well, yesterday wound up being mostly about me laying around in bed, sleeping a lot — stemming from stuff related to the fall I took the other day. But later in the afternoon, I got a lot of housecleaning done downstairs, so that felt really good. So much dust everywhere from having all those windows open for 6 months. And as I was cleaning, I was kind of hoping that my birth mom will come back to visit for Christmas (the last time I really dusted!!), but I’m guessing everything has to be played by ear now because of the virus.

[Flashback to last Christmas with my birth mom, who is a patient and diligent Christmas decorator!!]

The trees, decorated!

I don’t really have much else to say today.  I need to get stuff ready for a phone chat with the director before the Zoom meeting. So I’m gonna scoot & get more coffee.

I hope you’re all having a great Sunday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning — still listening to Hard Promises here — Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, 1981. Here’s another really great one from that album, “A Thing About You.” And I mean it with all my heart!!! So, cast your memory back to 1981! Turn it up loud and enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“A Thing About You”

I’m not much on mystery
Yeah you gotta be careful what you dream
I thought this might pass with time
Yeah I thought I was satisfied

[Chorus:]
But oh baby let me tell you, I got a thing about you
Baby let me tell you, I got a thing about you
It don’t matter what you say
It don’t matter what you do
I, I, I, got a thing about you

Somewhere deep in the middle of the night
Lovers hold each other tight
Whisper in their anxious ears
Words of love that disappear

[Chorus]

Baby you hold some strange control over me
Yeah it’s so wild it hypnotizes me

[Chorus]

© 1981 Tom Petty

An Odd But Lovely Little Morning in Crazeysburg!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Insider”

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

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

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

[Chorus]

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

[Chorus]

© 1981 Tom Petty

It Was Just One of Those Days Here in Crazeysburg!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay!

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Goodness Gracious!

Yesterday, I was having some minor pain issues in my neck and that hip joint again, so rather than take Tylenol or Advil, which I hate to take, I decided to try CBD oil for the first time.

Well, it actually works just fine as a pain medication but, man, does it relax me.  (Translation: I don’t feel like doing a fucking thing!)

I’m not sure if I’ll take it again, or not. I guess we’ll just wait until I get more pain issues, since it does indeed work for pain. But me feeling truly relaxed is not a sight that is often seen…

So I got nothing done on the new erotic short story yesterday (“Novitiate”). I hope today will yield even a tiny bit more than that! We shall see.( I’m still feeling rather relaxed and I took the CBD oil yesterday.)

I did get a sample of what the postcard announcing the reading of  my play is going to look like, though. It’s different from the other image I posted recently (I see there is a typo, so ignore that):

The “New Heritage” group is the Harlem production company. So I’m excited, gang!!

And I also found this exciting, although it has nothing to do with me. The discovery of a 2000-year-old mikveh (Jewish ritual bath) in the Lower Galilee — this is from the Second Temple Period in Israel, the time of Jesus. And of course the Galilee was the area Jesus practiced in. You can read the details of the excavation by the Israel Antiquities Authority here. The mikveh is in the lower right hand corner. It was found on the property of a 2000-year-old farm.

The farm with the ritual bath (lower right). Okay, well, there is absolutely nothing else going on here right now because I am sort of in la-la land.  I’m hoping this will change at any moment!!

Meanwhile, I’ll close this and drink some more coffee and stare.

I hope you have a terrific Tuesday, whatever you’re doing and wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting!! I leave you with a song I was thinking about here this morning. I’ve posted it on the blog before, but here it is again. Sometimes I take this song really personally:  “Waiting for You” from the Ghosteen album by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds (2019). Lyrics are in the video. So listen (and read along) and enjoy!! I love you guys. See ya.

A Lovely Morning So Far!!

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

© 1994 Tom Petty

We’re Gonna Try Again Today

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.

Little house across the street.

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

© 2020 Bruce Springsteen

I Found A Little Tiny Place That Saved Me

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!!!

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

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

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

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

And so the day begins! Yay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All righty. Well. On that note!!

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

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

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

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

“Paint It Black”

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

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

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

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

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

Hmm, hmm, hmm…

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

Yeah!

Hmm, hmm, hmm…

© 1966 Mick Jagger, Keith Richards

Does It Get More Exciting??!!

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’….

© 1967 Michael Murphy, Owen Castleman