Picture A Day - Day 16

Day 16: A picture of your biggest insecurity.

Watching myself age hasn’t been easy, partly because I’ve been ill for the past 15 years. But I’m starting to see that some of the premature ageing has reversed. In fact, I look younger than I did five or six years ago. No one ever guesses my age correctly, but then, no one ever could in the past, either. My insecurity about my looks (which I’ve always struggled with) is diminishing though, mostly due to the fact that I’m just not as hung up on outer things as I used to be, so I'm not sure this is an insecurity issue. I don't indulge in that sort of thing too much anymore. I hasten to add that getting older isn't a problem for me. In fact, I'm rather enjoying it since I said "screw it" to growing up.

Ask the Author - Part 6

Do you ever find yourself wishing you could disappear into the world you created in your books?

Oh, sure. I’ve often wished that I could sort of wake up to find myself standing at the gates of Chadwicke Park, using the call box to be allowed in, but I’m not quite that removed. I think that level of insanity must be very like an acid trip, where you’re consumed with what you believe to be real only to be jarred out of it momentarily by a reminder from the so-called real world. Or maybe, for the artist, that’s true sanity and all this out here is what’s insane. I’m quite a solid believer in the idea that we’re just energy anyway, living in private universes that we’ve each created so that we can know ourselves. Sometimes I dream of being at Chadwicke, and that seems just as real to me then as being here feels real to me at this moment. Boy, wouldn’t a shrink have fun with this?

What’s it like living in one world, in two different times and places? Writing an ongoing story, using a real place and time, inhabited by a group of people “loosely based in fact” who you alone are responsible for creating life and direction for? I've always wanted to ask this question. Is it easy to slip in and out of both worlds, or is it like being a performer on stage, then just a regular person off stage?

The short answer is that it’s a whole lot of fun, but the long answer is a bit more complicated than that. I won’t deny that I’ve gotten very close to my characters; my method of getting to know them is really no different than the way I get to know people I meet and befriend in “real life”.

A friend of mine once said that she doesn’t make friends, she falls in love, and I’d say that’s true for me as well. When I meet someone new with whom I click, it’s the beginning of a romance of sorts. I want to know all about them, spend time with them, find the things about them that delight me and the things that I can learn from. I become quite infatuated with new friends and I want to hug them and touch them constantly. Not in the sexual sense you understand. I’m a highly affectionate person. Very touchy-feely. As I was getting to know my characters, each in their turn, I felt the same tender affections for them, the same delight in their unique quirks. I don’t talk about it though, because the people around me might think I’m losing my grip on reality. But then again, what is reality? Jane Wagner, who writes for Lily Tomlin, said, “What is reality anyway but a collective hunch?” I think there’s a lot of truth in that, especially for the artists of the world, the dreamers and creators.

Where being responsible for my characters is concerned, I’m an extremely beneficent creator. Making bad things happen to them is very difficult for me, but it’s fiction and it has to happen. Even so, I give them what they need to surmount their obstacles—even the antagonists.

I haven’t found that I slip between my real and fictional worlds, I just sort of hover over both, taking care of what needs to be done in each of them. I guess you could say that when I’m writing, I’m not firmly rooted in either. I’m not one of those writers who treat their work like work. For me it’s more like dreaming.

Do you write to escape?
No, I write to tell a story. I love creating characters and watching them move through their lives. I love learning about people. Oh, I suppose there is that element, that I get the urge, the need, to write when things are especially difficult in my life, but that’s not when I do my best writing. I don’t necessarily suffer for my art, nor do I particularly sit down to open a vein, as the saying goes. I write because I enjoy it, not because of an overwhelming sense of having something important to say, of having to exorcise my private demons, or having to express my personal angst. If that’s in there it’ll come out, but that’s not why I write. I’m a story teller and a teacher. That’s all.

Will it be hard to say good-bye when the trilogy is finished?
Oh, man, yes! I’m already preparing myself. I can’t imagine what life will be like when Gordon and the others start to drift into memory. I don’t like to think about it. But I’ve started sketching an entirely different book, a romantic comedy set in current time; those characters are already starting to compel me. I'm sure they'll fill the void left by Tuppence, then, someone else will be there when I begin the next, and so on.

If You Pour it, They Will Come

It started with a simple private message. A friend who moved away last year will be in town this weekend and she wanted to get together. Will I call a couple of people--Ville, Heather, Jacey...

Because I've lately been missing the Friday nights of younger years, when friends would drop in bearing bottles and munchies, I leapt at the opportunity to open our home to an impromptu get together. I texted a couple of people, then created an event in Facebook. "BYOB and a munchie to share," I said, and now the little get together has turned into a pretty good-sized party. People are even driving in from out-of-state and spending the night in a hotel.

Although it's gray and drizzly, we're promised 75+ degree weather this weekend (90 on Sunday), so that means we'll be using the front porch for the first time this year.

My friends. I love how bohemian and  spontaneous they all are. This is going to be fun!

Picture A Day - Day 15

Day 15: A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.

Researching, writing, publishing and promoting a book. I had no idea what all went into it and I find it fascinating. People sometimes write to me asking how to write a novel, and I always tell them there’s so much more than just getting an idea for a story. You have to not only put yourself on the operating table, but each and every one of your characters as well. You have to bleed, go in there. Writing a book isn’t just the physical act of writing, it’s keeping your scalpel razor sharp and cutting away at yourself without flinching. This has been an amazing thing for me.

Stepping Up to Make a Formal Introduction

I've mentioned Tobiah in a couple of posts, but it's high time I really introduce you to her. I mean, like, formally. I came to meet her online through my son Micah, who produced her CD, Step Up; when I heard her music I was awestruck. She is such a talented songwriter, and I think you know how picky I am, being a songwriter myself. I heartily suggest you check out her CD. No worries, Tobiah, being the generous lady that she is, allows you to listen to it in its entirety before you buy it. She recently performed (with guitarist Nigel Beck) a live concert. Here is an excellent review, by Indie Showcase, of that performance.

TOBIAH - Thursday 24th March 2011 - The Blue Coconut Club. Pulborough. U.K. 

I was fortunate enough to have interviewed Tobiah on the 12th February this year for Indie Showcase. After having heard her new album "Step Up" many many times preceding the interview and loving it in its entirety, I had exceedingly high expectations of her gig. 

She shared the stage with another talented musician Nigel Beck, whose singing and finger picking skills on his 6 and 12 string guitars were breathtaking. They showcased their own songs individually and some they sang as a duet. Nothing special about the latter you might think, had it not been for the fact they'd only met each other for the first time the day before the gig! One day to rehearse live together but they sounded like they had been a musical couple for eons.  They complemented each other perfectly and I truly hope that this isn't a one-off and that I'll have the opportunity to listen to them live again.

I have to admit to having been put off going to live gigs because of my expectations. Yes, I know it's my fault, but when I go to listen to an artist or a band, I want to be able to hear them and just them. I don't want to hear the tinkle of glasses in the background or the quiet murmurings of people attempting to whisper to each other. At The Blue Coconut Club the owner Mr. Jimmy Lee, himself a very accomplished musician who also played on the night, laid down the rules, gently. This is how a music venue should be, perhaps it helps having a musician as the owner. The regulars knew and welcomed the rules and they were there for the same reason as I, they showed the respect due to artists and there wasn't a sound from them, apart from the well-deserved applause at the end of each song.

Tobiah looked absolutely gorgeous, but this isn't a lady who's just about aesthetics. Her voice, the lyrics and her guitar skills enthralled the audience. I felt privileged to have heard her album already, for I knew what to expect and she certainly didn't disappoint. Playing live shows up artists weaknesses and Tobiah was strong, very strong. 

I expect her to go far. 

But an artist needs appreciation from many to succeed, and we the audience cannot appreciate what we've not heard before. It is for outlets such as Indie Showcase to spread the word, showcase their music. 

I urge you all to listen to Tobiah, there will be the majority of you unlucky enough not to be able to see Tobiah live, but her album "Step Up" is the next closest thing.
Tobiah, I know I will be safe speaking on behalf of the others at the gig in thanking you for a wonderful night.

I wish I could have been there, I knew I was missing something very special. But, good news! She has expressed that she might like to come to the States to perform!

Picture A Day - Day 14

Day 14: A picture of someone who inspires you.

Since the evening I met director Larry Weinstein (Rhombus Media, Toronto), I’ve been inspired by him. There are few people who have had that kind of impact on me—Maestro Salazar may very well be the only one, come to think of it. Working with Larry was pure joy for me and I’d leap at the chance to work with him again, even if it meant just sharpening his pencils and emptying his waste bin. If I were younger, I’d ask to intern for him. Just being in the same room with him is inspiring.

And he's a darned good friend as well. I just love him.

My Favorite Waste of Time

I'm thinking that my inner self just knew there was an important anniversary taking place. Why else would I have posted two entries about Ville in one week?

Yesterday, I made the following video in celebration of the 25th anniversary of the day we met. Wow! Twenty-five years!

Before I tell you about how we met, allow me to explain something. Her actual name is Debra, which was shortened to Debi. Being the kind of person who gives nicknames to the people I love, I quickly dubbed her Debsville, which was soon shortened to DeVille (because she drove one). Later, it was shortened even further to Ville.

I'd spent a Friday afternoon in March 1986 with a friend who had been telling me about a girl I should meet because we had the same kind of humor. He'd asked me to drive him and one of his friends up to Santa Barbara so that they could go to an "under 21" dance club. I wasn't at all interested in spending the evening in a gay disco. I was 35 years old and putting myself through college while working, and I was tired. He then said that he'd invite this girl to go with us. I caved; I'd been wanting to meet her.

When Debi bounced into the front seat of my car, she was all kinetic energy, two-tone black and blue hair, and Obsession perfume. I don't think we were 10 miles on the 101 before we knew we were going to be friends, although she was 16 years younger than me and not even old enough to drink (not that that stopped her). That was 25 years ago and we haven't stopped laughing.

Our friendship has been the most mentally stimulating relationship I've ever known. Notice I didn't say intellectually stimulating. There's nothing intellectual about us when we get together, but I always leave her presence feeling energized and full of the love of life. And that's what a good friendship does, I think. If you want to know more about us, click HERE.

Anyway, here's the video I made in honor of our anniversary:

Log in to Facebook

Some people are having trouble seeing the video. Try logging in to Facebook (if you have an account), then come back and watch. I know it's a bit of a pain. Sorry.

Picture A Day - Day 13

Day 13: A picture of your favorite band or artist.

Was there ever really a question?

Season Between the Seasons

There is a blessed space between the Spring and Summer seasons here, when it's too warm to leave the windows closed and it's too cool to turn on the AC. For about a month we can sleep with the ceiling fan on and a window open. This is something I've quite gotten used to. In California, I never kept my windows open at night. Well, in Ventura I did, because I lived in a top-floor apartment; perfectly safe, and perfect for catching the cool ocean breeze that came up the hill from the beach.

But all of this perfect 80° weather reminds me that it's time for me to get outside with the hedge trimmers and the gloves; there are flower beds to prepare for summer. If I had a tractor mower, I'd mow the lawn (it's a huge yard). The landlord is supposed to do that--and he does a good job once he starts coming out every two weeks--but he hasn't started that routine yet and our yard looks like crap.

This year, I'd like to use all of the flower pots I have and crowd the porch with flowers and plants. I mean crowd the ledge with them, as well as the steps and the eaves. Let's make this little cottage live up to its quaintness! I wish I could buy a couple of white wicker rockers and I wish I could afford to paint the floor of the porch. That would really spruce things up. The entire house needs to be painted, actually, but I don't see that happening anytime soon. Renting mostly to destructive students, our landlord isn't known for his pride of ownership.

If I had my way, I'd buy this cottage, then have the entire front and side yard dug up. New lawn would be laid, then a white fence with an arbor and gate at the walk, and new walk would be installed. Everything would be given a fresh coat of paint, the outdoor lights would be replaced, and all of that crappy Monkey Grass would be replaced with flowers. But will we ever be able to buy this house? And if we get to a place financially that we can consider it, would we want to buy here? We'd still like to move back to Ventura, but that's an even costlier proposition than buying this house!

Meantime, while we wait to see what lies in store for us, I have to motivate myself to get the yards and porch ready for summer. I'm predicting a lot of triple digits this year. That means, the AC will have to be turned on soon, and this brief, comfortable mini-season will be over.

Picture A Day - Day 12

Day 12: A picture of something you love.

I have to confess that I’m a big sap when it comes to the love songs of the 1980s and 90s. You know the ones: Cant Fight This Feeling Anymore by REO, I Just Fall In Love Again by Anne Murray, When He Shines by Sheena Easton. I love ‘em, I love ‘em, and they always bring me to tears and fill me with a delicious, temporary melancholia.

I never bought any of the albums these songs are on, or anything by these artists, but I loved the "soft rock" stations we used to get back then. When I was a performer singer-songwriter, this genre of music was called MOR: Middle-of-the-Road. I even wrote a lot of songs in this style. I swear these love ballads release infatuation endorphins into the brain.

As much as I love real Rock (I could listen to Zeppelin's Dazed and Confused all damned day), I equally love MOR.

Ask the Author - Part 5

If you could name a song that best describes each of your main characters, what would it be?

This is a fun one, and I’ll even include links to sample clips.
Gordon: I Am Free by Tal Bachman
Noel: Boom Boom by the Animals
Willy: Can I Get to Know You Better By the Turtles
Trevor: Spoonful by Cream
Felicity: Just Like a Woman by Bob Dylan
Liz: She’s a Lady by John Sebastian

Do you always know what’s going to happen next in Beyond The Bridge?

Not really. I draw up a kind of outline before getting started, but that’s more of a framework than a schematic. Sometimes I have to leave it alone and let it simmer a bit and sometimes it just writes itself. Even then, it’s open to change all the way up until it goes to print.
___________
If you have a question, just leave it in the comments!

The Last, I Promise

This is the last you'll see about my interview on Paradigms, I promise. It was so successful, though, I just have to leave a link so that you can give it a listen, if you're so inclined. Baruch Zeichner asked me to send him MP3s of some of the songs that inspired me, so that much is really cool. The rest, well, I'm proud. It's a good interview.

I especially loved that he ended the interview with Tal Bachman's I Am Free, then went right into The Animals' Boom Boom. Very exciting!

http://paradigms.bz


P.S. My book is now available in both soft cover and Kindle editions at Amazon.

Picture A Day - Day 11

Day 11: A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.

My talented, eccentric, mutually supportive, full of life and love family. Yes, we're blended, but like the perfect margarita, we're blended in all the right ways!

(Left to right: Pot Pie, Joel, Heather, Nathan, Micah, Nettl, and Lauren.)

Picture A Day - Day 10

Day 10: A picture of the person you do the most ****** up things with.

I don’t know about ****** up things, but Ville and I have certainly done a lot of weird and wonderful things in the 25 years that we’ve known each other. Some things we’re proud to pants ourselves (and each other) with, and some things we’ll take to the grave.

The one thing (although there were many) that drew us together when we first met was that we're both prop comics, camera hams, spotlight stealers, and improv artists. We'll upstage you in a heartbeat and won't even mean to. In earlier days a party didn't start until we walked into the room, and few people could keep up with us once we were there. Those that tried usually got left in the dust. We can't help it. We're just kinetic when we get together. Libra and Gemini, you know? We spark off each other and inspire each other to higher and higher levels of idiocy. Then we pay for it the next day. I've always compared us to Lennon/McCartney, Pats/Eds, and Groucho/Chico Marx.

I can't decide on just one picture for this one, so you get three, not counting one at the top, which was taken on New Year's Eve, 1988. And while drinking on New Year'e Eve isn't particularly ****** up, I think it's pretty clear that we were ****** up.

Are You In, Mr. Miller?

Have you heard? Henry Miller's Pacific Palisades house is for sale. The 5-bedroom traditional has been updated, but much of it remains the same as when Miller died there in June of 1980.

As I looked at the pictures of the house on the real estate page, I tried to imagine what it would be like to live there, especially as a writer. Working in the study would be awesome. But that's not liable to happen since the place has a $4.5 million price tag. Gak! There is no mention of its famous former owner.

What makes me cock my head though is that the house is situated in a housing tract. Henry Miller. Housing tract. Nope, can't work that out in my head. When I think of Miller, I picture him in either Paris of the 1930s, or in Big Sur, definitely NOT an over-priced tract home.

What would you do if you lived in a house that once belonged to a hero of yours? If I owned this house, I think I'd hold monthly book readings/signings by independent authors.
___________
UPDATE: I just checked the listing. Seems it has sold. I hope whoever bought it knows in whose shadow they will be living.

This is Me Speaking to You with my Voice

I've always had a thing about my speaking voice. Most of us don't like our voice when we hear ourselves recorded, actually. I'm crazy about my singing voice (too bad I can't just sing my way through life like in some weird Broadway musical), but my speaking voice? Not so much. To me, I sound monotone and boring, although people tell me this isn't actually the case.

Anyway, I think today's interview with Paradigms, on WBKM in Burlington, Vermont, went very well. Buruch Zeichner is an excellent interviewer and he put me completely at my ease. The only hard part was having to read a passage from my book. I'm dyslexic, you know, and reading aloud has always been an issue. I practiced for two days. I had it down perfectly. I meditated right before the interview. What happened? I bolloxed up a word. All I could do was kind of laugh and carry on. Keep it light.

His questions weren't quite what you might expect. Sure, he asked about what inspired the book, who my musical heroes are, etc., but he also asked some poignant questions concerning relevance and the nature of music and the arts on a higher level. It was a fun conversation.

The show will be broadcast this Sunday, but it will also be available indefinitely on the Paradigms website. Here are the particulars:


Date: Sunday, March 20, 2011
Time: 8pm EST || 7pm CST || 6pm MST || 5pm PST
Place: http://paradigms.bz

I hope you give it a listen!
__________

UPDATE: I just heard the interview and it came out well! Besides the one trip up during the reading, I did okay. I still hate that my annoying little slur shows (a leftover from a slight speech impediment I had as a kid), but it might be attributed to a typical "radio" sound one hears in phone interviews like this.

Picture A Day - Day 9

Day 9: A picture of something you want to do before you die.

I want to record again, preferably an album. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate or complicated and it doesn't have to be released publicly, just something to give my family and friends. I have some really good songs that I’d like to get down before my voice starts to weaken because when I'm gone, the songs are gone.

Picture A Day - Day 8

Day 8: A picture that makes you laugh.

Ville has a habit of sticking things under her nose and holding them there. I’ve seen her hold eating utensils, cigarettes, guitar picks, pretzel sticks… I can’t begin to remember everything I've seen stuck under her nose.

On New Years Eve of 2007 Nettl and I had a Tiki Lounge party. At one point, at the exact same moment, Ville and I each put some popper streamers under our nose and looked at each other. Fortunately, someone had the camera. What you might not be able to see in this picture is that I was trying very hard not to crack up.

This picture always, without fail, makes me laugh. I’m laughing now, just writing this.

(Ugh. I like my hair so much better long...)

Review: A Freewheelin' Time by Suze Rotolo

I’ve always wished that I’d been born in the right place and time to have experienced the Greenwich Village of the early-to-mid 1960s. Although I wanted to be a rock star, my true inspiration as a singer-songwriter came through folk music.

A little too young to immerse myself in the music of Phil Ochs, Odetta, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, and Ian and Sylvia, I found my true mentors in Bob Dylan, Donovan, Joni Mitchell, and Gordon Lightfoot. These were some of the first folk artists whose music legitimized the genre, thanks to Columbia Records’ decision to sign Dylan in 1962. I was only 11 at that time, so I still had to wait a while for folk music to come to me.

Recently, I read A Freewheelin’ Time: A Memoir of Greenwich Village in the Sixties by Suze Rotolo. For those who are not familiar with her name, Suze (pronounced Suzie) was Dylan’s lover during his Village years (1961-1964). She was the woman pictured walking with him on the cover of his second album, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan.

Oh, yeah. Her.

Due to the image that the Beatles’ girlfriends and wives carried—that of muse, supporter, and too often co-dependent—I have to admit that my impression of Rotolo had been basically the same through the years. Reading her book, however, changed that, and for the better. Although the book has its flaws, it is written honestly and intelligently. Suze (pronounced Suzie) was an educated woman: an intellectual, an artist, an activist and a feminist. Raised in a politically active family, she was the perfect counterpart for Dylan. No simpering, clinging vine, she!

Rotolo inspired some of Dylan’s best songs, my favorite being Ballad in Plain D.

I once loved a girl, her skin it was bronze,

With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn;

I courted her proudly, but now she is gone,

Gone as the season she’s taken...

Rotolo has a way with words that I really enjoyed. Her prose reveals a lot about her, making it easy to understand that she and Dylan thought a great deal alike in those early years. My only real problem was that she never seems to dip too far below the surface of any given subject or character description. She begins an anecdote then drops it to go to another. These short teases, as well as her tendency to repeat certain phrases and sometimes refer to Dylan by his full name after it’s quite obvious that Bob and Bobby are indeed Dylan, tend to make me think that she wrote down a lot of memories, only to string them together via a mental cut-and-paste process. I would have enjoyed the book more had she tried to transition a little more seamlessly. Still, she shares so many memories and insights that I can’t complain without feeling a little guilty. She was there, she was a vital member of the Village community and between her accounts and photos, I feel like I’ve traveled to a place and time that has always fascinated me.

Her greatest talent is her ability to invoke feelings that I’d lost through the decades. For example, she describes the paranoia of the Cold War era in such a way that it all came back to me as it was then, not as it is translated through nostalgic hindsight. It’s a good book.

Addendum: While writing this review Suze Rotolo died of lung cancer in New York City.
__________
Ballad in Plain D © Bob Dylan 1964

vailable at Amazon.com

Ask the Author - Part 4

Do you think pastiche is distracting? I can never decide. I figure if I start dropping h’s and g’s and start putting apostrophes everywhere pretty soon that overwhelms what’s going on, it seems.

Of course it can be distracting. As with any device one has to be frugal. I find that by using regional slang a lot of the character’s voice comes through without resorting to dropping h’s and g’s, as you say. Trevor and Willy say me instead of my and Gordon uses a’tall a couple of times, but other than that I shy away from dialectic or accentual phonetics. Except for Noel, of course. He’s a strong character who comes from Liverpool. The Scouse dialect is so distinctive and so intrinsic to the Liverpudlian soul, I felt that writing it out would bring Noel to the reader much more clearly. It has to be tasteful though. My version of Scouse is extremely watered down; if I’d written it as it actually sounds, full-strength, no one would know what he’s saying. For example:

“Yew’d it oo wid yer ead?”

(You’d hit who with your head? = Threats don’t scare me.)

“Eez got moths inniz wollit.”

(He’s got moths in his wallet. = He never buys a round.)

A reader will tire very quickly if forced to read pages of that, and that means skipped pages. In Book Two there's an Irishman, but I don’t write his lines in brogue. He has other things that set him apart from the characters. In fact, in all three books, Noel is the only character I write for in that way.

Your characters are so dimensional and have so many facets, how do you come up with all the aspects of their personalities? How do make sure they remain consistent with who they are?

Well, in a finished book you don’t see the characters as they develop. A lot of stuff ends up on the cutting room floor. All you see is the finished character. I’m very analytical and I’m an armchair psychologist; I love looking deep into people’s personalities. My characters are real to you because they're real to me.

People in rock music have certain things in common. There’s the front man, who is usually pretty flamboyant and energetic. He usually has a pretty good opinion of himself. There’s the guitar god, who’s very private when not on stage. He has a good opinion of himself too, but it’s usually based on his talent rather than his looks or popularity. He’s usually obsessed with his instrument from a young age and he might feel like misfit growing up. Gordon fits into this category. Felicity came to me fully developed as a character. What I had to find out about her is why she was the way she was. That’s when she began telling me about her childhood and her family.

How do I make sure my characters remain consistent? I constantly ask myself, “Would he do that? What would make him do that? Where does it come from?” Then I dig into their life story. It also helps that I write full bios for each of my characters, down to the smallest thing, like what was their pet’s name when they were a child. I don’t use everything in the actual telling of the story, but everything gets used beneath the surface. I know my characters inside and out and what I don’t know always comes to light as I’m writing.

Picture a Day - Day 7

Day 7: A picture of your most treasured item.

It's very hard to see in this picture, but this is an heirloom ring that has traveled through my matriarchal line since the 16th century. Well, not the ring itself, the stone. The story, as it was handed down to me, goes something like this:

Five-hundred years ago, one of our mothers, while walking on a beach in southern Ireland with her younger sister, saw a stone shining up from the sand as a wave receded. She took it to a jeweler, who cut it into this spherical shape and had it set into a ring as per her explicit instructions. It brought her such good luck, and intuition when she placed it under her tongue, that she handed it down to her eldest daughter on her thirteenth birthday. Thus it has continued until it came to me. It has been set into numerous rings, its current being a simple gold band, the stone held by four prongs. The stone spins in its setting so that it can be set according to the moon's phases.

I don't know how much of the legend is true. Firstly, I know the Irish and our love of spinning a good and mysterious yarn. Also, I can't find any evidence that moonstones occur in Ireland. My mother told me that her mother, Nora, received it on her thirteenth birthday from her mother, Anna, who came from Ireland during the days of the immigration. Nora handed it down to her eldest daughter, Helen, on her thirteenth birthday. When Helen died it was given to my mother, who gave it to me when I turned thirteen. I tend to believe a lot of what I was told about the ring--I'm quite aware of the pagan leanings of my Irish matriarchs. Nora herself was an herbalist, concocting all kinds of medicines for her family. She told my mother stories of the "Little People" of Ireland, stories that my mother passed down to me.

I'm not really sure what I should do with the ring when I pass. I have no blood daughters or granddaughters--no females of any kind in my blood clan. It all ends with me. A psychic once told me that I was the woman who found it on the beach, in a previous life, and that it should be buried with me, having completed its cycle.

Who knows?

Radio Interview

Next Sunday evening I'll be interviewed on WBKM's Paradigms, by Baruch Zeichner. We'll be discussing my book and playing some of the great music that inspired it. Tune in!

Date: Sunday, March 20
Time: 8pm EST, 7pm CST, 6pm MST, 5pm PST

Picture a Day - Day 6

Day 6: A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.

I’d love to trade places with the main character of my Rock & Roll trilogy.

Gordon Hammond lives on a country estate is Royal Tunbridge Wells and when he’s not in the studio, touring, or making business deals for his group, Tuppence, he strolls his estate in Wellies, followed by Chester, a large, ginger Siberian cat. He meditates by a duck pond, or in his Victorian solarium, pulls fallen branches from the stream, then goes back to the manor for a nice cuppa and a chip butty. In the evening he sits with his friends around the large kitchen table drinking wine and jamming.

Yeah. I’d trade with him for a day, gladly!

One Degree of Seperation

I have just received permission to use a passage from Henry Miller's The Waters Reglitterized in Book Two of my trilogy. That's exciting enough, but the permission arrived via a personal email from both Valentine Miller and Tony Miller, the author's daughter and son.

Henry Miller has long been my favorite American writer and receiving these friendly emails just days after I sent my request to the Henry Miller website, makes me feel connected to him in a way I never thought possible.

Thank you.

Here's a photo of Henry Miller with Valentine and Tony.

Picture a Day - Day 5

Day 5: A picture of your favorite memory.

I earlier mentioned growing up with the Harris kids on the ranch in Solvang. One of things we loved most was sliding down our favorite hill on cardboard in June after the grass turned yellow. California turns golden in the summer, which makes for dry, slick sliding.

The hill was pretty damned steep, as I recall, with a dry creek bed at the bottom, but we’d learned how to bail right before we went over the cliff. The angels that watch over kids must be exhausted!

(By the way, all of these pictures embiggify when clicked.)

Picture a Day - Day 4

Day 4: A picture of your night.

Not much to say about this. Bedroom, Facebook, dinner.

Ask the Author - Part 3

Did the layout of Gordon's estate come completely from your head? Or did you have a template?

I guess my imagination is very visual because I never set out to create Chadwicke Park in such detail. The images just came to me as I wrote. When I decided to draw the illustration (after the writing was completed), I already had a pretty clear picture of what it looked like. All I had to do was transfer onto paper what I saw in my mind.

I did refer to some estate plans online in order to get an idea of how they’re drawn—I wanted mine to have a typically British look—but the estate itself is entirely from my imagination. Only Chadwicke Hall is inspired by an actual country manor, Gunthorpe Hall, in East Anglia. I took liberties with that as well, however, adding symmetrical wings and rearranging parts of the interior a bit. If you check out the Maps, Plans and Places page, there are pictures of Gunthorpe there. Don’t be disappointed that it’s not surrounded by a lush, forested park and landscaped gardens!

There are a lot of features in Chadwicke Park that just couldn’t be depicted in the drawing. The waterfall that feeds the lake, the statuary, the foot bridges, the Victorian lampposts. I wish I were an artist, I wanted to draw elevations and landscapes too. I wanted to have an illustration at the beginning of every chapter.

I know Chadwicke Park so well, I’ve sometimes dreamt that I’m there. I’ve found myself at the gates and I’ve walked up the Grand Oval to the Hall. I’ve seen Gordon meditating at the Buddha statue by the lake and I’ve sat at the kitchen table during a party. I’m a lucid dreamer anyway though, so this kind of thing isn’t uncommon for me.

I live in Tunbridge Wells. Why did you choose it for Chadwicke Park and how did you come to decide on Reynolds Lane as the its location? Have you ever been to our town? How do you think you will feel if you ever go see that parcel of land?

I’ve only been through Tunbridge Wells—and a lot of times—on the train between Brighton and London. It always intrigued me, perhaps due to the fact that my family’s ancestral home is there (Groombridge Place), which I didn’t find out until the book was finished. Perhaps there’s a genetic memory or something that drew me. I don’t know why I never got off at the station to have a look around. Next time I come over I plan to spend most of my time there.

I have Google Earth to thank for helping me to finally decide on that particular field in Reynolds Lane. I looked at a number of places: Devon (too far away from London), Oxfordshire (too close to Friar Park, George Harrison’s estate), and a lot of places in Kent. Whatever piece of land I decided on had to have certain things: a lake or a place for a lake, a slight slope or hill, enough room for the Grand Oval, and being in a town without being in the center of it. Using Google Earth, I’ve “walked” the entire length of Reynolds Lane, from Culverden Down to Speldhurst Road. It was a perfect setting, with that sharp bend in the lane. I just hope the neighbors don’t mind! As for going out to where I’ve placed Chadwicke Park, I think I’ll feel quite wistful. Rather like going back to find Brigadoon.

Picture a Day - Day 3

Day 3: A picture of the cast from your favorite show.

This is the cast from the first three seasons of The Lovejoy Mysteries, a British series that I watched on PBS in the mid-90s.

I recently discovered I could watch every episode of every season on MrLovejoy86's channel on YouTube. I haven’t gotten through them all, but I’m working in it!

Ask the Author - Part 2

Is any of your book autobiographical? Are you in any of your characters? Are any of the events in the book based wholly or in part on your personal experiences in the music business?

I think all fiction is somewhat autobiographical in that a writer writes what they know. As far as the underside of the book is concerned, the general knowledge and experience, I drew from my own musical career during the Sixties, Seventies and Eighties. I’ve been backstage and I’ve been onstage. I’ve spent tedious hours in the studio and I’ve been recognized in public. I’ve even had fans. (You'll see more of my own experiences in Book Two, With A Bullet.) It doesn’t really matter that I wasn’t famous, I knew famous people and I saw what life was like for them. Trust me, fame isn’t a reward, it’s a crash course in life’s heaviest lessons. You think you have it hard learning what the universe is trying to teach you? Try being famous, of making all the same mistakes as anyone else—some more serious—but making them publically while the world watches and scrutinizes your every move. The famous live in the heat of a huge, unrelenting magnifying glass.

As far as my characters are concerned, I really don’t see myself in them. Maybe Gordon is more how I wish I was, or maybe I would like to be as ballsy as Noel, or as together as Liz, but no, I’m really not in any of them to any significant degree. They’re their own people. They created themselves; I just listened. But we'll see. I'm still writing and there's still so much that could come to light.

Noel is such a vivid character. Was he inspired by anyone you know?

Good old Noel—everyone loves the fuzzy-faced scouser! Yes. He was inspired by a guy who played bass in a short-lived blues band I was in back in the early Eighties. Tom is from Queens (New York) and has a roughness that at first put me off. I used to tend a bar back in those days and he’d come in every night, sit in the same spot and give me a bad time. It was all in good fun, but I didn’t know that. It took me a while to learn that if he hadn’t liked me, he wouldn’t have wasted his time, energy, or his money. We became friends and that’s when I began to see his soft, affectionate nature underneath all the surliness. Noel even looks a lot like Tom, or at least he looks like Tom as I remember him. I love Tom to this day and I hope that if he reads these books he’ll recognize that Noel is a loving tribute to him.

Actually, the first Noel was first created by request. Some of my blog readers began asking in jest to be in my book. Author Robert Spryszak, who wrote the foreword, joined in the fun and Noel was born. He changed very quickly though. Bob is a Chicago guy and nothing like a Liverpudlian. Tom is closer to having that particular bump in his personality. Plus, I lean heavily on astrology. Both Tom and Noel are Scorpios and although he’s on the Scorpio side, Bob is a Libra, like me. There’s just an edge that was missing. Hope he doesn’t mind.

Just a Quick Note

The week of March 6th  through the 12th  is Read An Ebook Week. In honor of this, my book is available at a discounted price:

Amazon Kindle Edition: $2.99

If you don't have a Kindle, you can download the Kindle Reader for PC FREE, with no strings attached. The link is on the page.

And a simple request: If you read it, please consider leaving a review--I really need them!

Picture a Day - Day 2

Day 2: A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest.

This was taken of Cathy Harris and me in the spring of 1969. I was a senior in high school and she was a junior. Over the break we’d written a dozen or so songs together—silly, comedic things based on TV commercials—and a couple of them weren’t bad.

He’s not too tall, he’s not too fat,

But oh, that hair, where’s it at?

Ralph Williams, my Ralph Williams.

You’re sitting in front of the TV set,

Watching the Late, Late Show,

When all of a sudden, here he comes…

“Hi friends, Ralph Williams!”

As I said, silly stuff.

“He (Ralph Williams) was a short, nearly-bald, squish-faced fireplug of a man. He could talk a blue streak, you could barely understand a thing it was all so run together. He’d cram info about eight cars into a 30-second spot (generally starting with the creampuffs and working his way down to the less expensive, less desirable models) AND give you complete directions how to get there to boot. (Cheech and Chong immortalized him perfectly as “El Monte Slim,” if you want to get a feel for what I’m talking about.) He came off like a sideshow barker for the most part, but he looked pretty tough and not a guy you’d want to cross (I’m sure he had business associates named Vinnie). He was always giving away crap to lure folks in—toys for the kids, free wiper blades, air fresheners, etc. Ralph was a pretty big local boy for awhile there, but along came Cal Worthington, who took Ralph Williams one step further... straight to local TV-commercial hell! For better or worse, ol’ Ralph’s patter remains forever emblazoned upon my brain: 

‘HI THERE! friends and neighbors! This Ralph Williams from Ralph Williams’ Ford, saying COME ON DOWN! We got some great deals in used cars that you can drive home today! Right here we’ve got a BEAUTIFUL 1961 Ford Fairlane. Just LOOK at the shine on that gorgeous vehicle, it’s got ONLY 92,000 miles on it and BRAND NEW TIRES all the way around. Drives like a dream! We’ve road tested her and cleaned her up JUST for YOU for the low, low, UNBEATABLE price of $1,700! But if you can’t afford THAT fine used vehicle, don’t worry, because we’ve got HUNDREDS of fine-quality used cars here at Ralph Williams’ Ford, in EVERY price range. Here’s another BEAUTY on display here at the Ralph Williams’ Ford Used Car Lot...'" (Story Tyler)

Cathy and I called ourselves Sgt. Popcorn & The Kernal. Yeah, get the hook… Her brother took the picture of us in her back yard with my Instamatic camera to commemorate a week of solid songwriting. Those were some great days. Good, innocent fun and lots of laughs. We didn't drink, smoke (anything), curse, or mess around with boys. Well, I have to confess that I had done some drinking and pot smoking, but never with Cathy.

We met in 1959, when I was 8 and she was 7. Her father was the pastor of our church in Solvang and we lived on the same ranch. Because she had three brothers and sisters (and her mom was more fun than mine), I spent most of my time at her house, or roaming the hills of the Santa Ynez Valley countryside with her and her brothers and sister. This pictures looks exactly like where we lived. Gorgeous, huh? Those three years are the happiest I knew in my childhood, and when you’re a kid, three years are an eternity. When they moved away, I thought I’d die. The ranch seemed like a ghost town to me until we moved the following year.

Although we don’t see each other anymore, except on very rare occasions, we’re friends on Facebook and we still love each other. We have an understanding that only comes from spending a lifetime with someone.

Picture a Day - Day 1

Over in the Facebook neighborhood there's a meme going around that I thought I'd like to feature here on my blog. It's called Picture a Day. The premise is easy. Post a picture and some verbiage each day for 31 days.

These won't be my only posts; you'll still get my usual crap as well.

Day 1:  A picture of yourself with ten insignificant facts (I added the insignificant part).

1. I'm not lactose intolerant, but I am allergic to the gases that plastic milk containers emit. You don't want to know me after I've had a glass of milk.
2. Waking up and going to sleep are the hardest things I do all day.
3. I really don't like phone conversations. Please email or text me instead. This does not apply, however, to people who live a great distance from me.
4. Not to complain, I live with chronic pain, and have done so since 1997. Without drugs. Consequently, my pain tolerance has increased and the pain doesn't get to me like it used to. This will come in handy when I'm really old. One of my worse fears is being drug dependent like my mother was at the end of her life.
5. As much as I dislike phone conversations, I love getting mail and email. I miss snail mail and I'm thinking of getting back into it this summer; there are a couple of people I'd rather write handwritten letters to than email.
6. I love Bollywood movies. But then, you probably already knew that.
7. I don't give a crap about what celebrities and politicians do in their private lives. It's none of my business, and I don't understand people who keep up with such things.
8. If I could have the car of my dreams, it would be either a Mini-Cooper or a Jeep.
9. The thing I miss most in my life right now (besides money) is a dog. I've never not had a dog and it's been 10 years. I want a dog, but our landlord doesn't allow them.
10. As much as I talk about England or Vienna, if I could afford to live anywhere I want, I'd go back to Ventura.

If you want to play along, here's the list.

Ask the Author - Part 1

I've decided to post my answers to the Ask the Author feature here as well as on the Beyond The Bridge site. I'll be posting two at a time. If you'd like to ask a question, just leave it in the comments, or click the link photo in the side bar. Thanks to everyone who has asked questions already. They're really good!

Some writers make a soundtrack of sorts of music that inspires them as they write. Did you do this for your book and if so who were the artists that inspired you?

Writing a trilogy in which each book takes place during a specific musical decade made building a playlist essential. With A Dream’s changed periodically, depending on what scenes I wrote, but the artists who consistently made the cut were:

The Beatles
The Byrds
Cream
Donovan
Bob Dylan
Eric Burden and the Animals
Rory Gallagher
Jefferson Airplane
The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Joni Mitchell
Led Zeppelin
The Left Banke
The Moody Blues
Ravi Shankar
The Rolling Stones
The Turtles

I also listened to an online station at Live365 called British Invasion and watched the Sixties videos that Groovy Reflections plays on Facebook all day.

If I mentioned a song in the book, you can pretty much bet that it was the background music for that scene and was played over and over during the writing. A good example of this is Gordon’s acid trip at his birthday party in the second chapter.

Overall, I listened to hundreds of songs as I wrote and went through my day-to-day life. I spent the year in a kind of time warp, even having a Sixties party for my birthday. In fact, I haven’t really come back yet; writing Book Two (With A Bullet), I’m now in the Seventies.

How did you determine which "real musicians" got to have relationships with Gordon?

I never made any conscious determinations about this. I don’t know that I can tell you why Brian Jones and George Harrison turned out to be Gordon’s closest friends and not someone else. I tend to allow my characters to come to me and tell me about themselves. When they do, these things just sort of spill out onto the keys. I don’t want to sound esoteric about it, but writing is a mystical thing for me, just as composing music is. I really don’t remember when Brian Jones first showed up. He was just there and I recognized that he was the kind of guy who’d like Gordon, his gentle strength, his composure and grace.

I imagined Gordon looking up to George Harrison as a kind of mentor/guru, although they’re only two years apart in age, but I put George in the book more as a spirit rather than a minor character. Because of my own respect for him, I chose not to put actual words in his mouth, either. Later, in the digital edition, he has one line, but that’s an actual quote, not something I made up. He’s in the second book as well, but as of this writing he’s still silent. Maybe he’ll eventually speak up. I don’t know.

Ask the Author

I had a thought last night that I'd like to lay before you.

I want to write a feature on my book's site, answering questions from readers, so if you've read With A Dream, or are in the process of reading it--or even if you haven't read it and want to know a little more before committing--submit your question in this entry's comments.

See? That's not so hard.

Too Many Blogs

In a somewhat feeble attempt to declutter my online existence, I cut one of my blogs last night. It's not like anyone read it anyway, and it was fairly new, so there was no sacrifice involved on anyone's part. I'm now down to only two: this one and my spiritual blog.

Well, there are others: Ernie's tribute blog, my book's blog, and the one I keep for Alla Breve Books. But those require only about one entry a month. Oh yeah, I also post two entries a month at Boomers and Books, but it's not my blog, I'm just part of its community of writers.

So I'm gathering from what I read in Blogsville that there are a number of new dramas playing out in the news. Because we don't have television (we have a TV, but we only use it for movies), my knowledge is happily and quite contentedly minimal, but here's how it sizes up in my head:

• Charlie Sheen, who is everyone's new Love-to-Hate, has two girlfriends. This is newsworthy?
• Teachers are protesting in certain states and the tide of discontent is spreading across the country. I'm totally behind this one, and I actually kind of keep up with it because of my love of education.
• People are protesting in Egypt and a 30-year rein of a madman in being overthrown. What will replace his regime, I wonder. Hope it doesn't turn out like that mess in France a couple hundred years ago. Napoleon's already been to Egypt and I wouldn't want to see the Sphinx's nose get shot up even worse.
• Gas prices are up again. What's their justification this time?

That's about all I know about things these days, and that's the way I like it. I don't have enough years left that I want to spend them caring about things I can't change. Sorry if that sounds like apathy. It's not. Apathy sort of includes the feeling that the person never really gave a crap in the first place. I've spent most of my life giving a crap, and we still find ourselves in these messes. I have other things to do in the 20-something years I have left to walk around this planet. Like declutter Blogsville.

Drugs, Sex & F-Bombs

Just for fun, I decided to go through my book and count certain things. Some were amusing, others were interesting, and some were downright frustrating.

I've always heard that a book is never finished, it's abandoned, and that an author should never read their own book once it's published because he or she, hopefully, grows and improves. It makes it impossible to feel satisfied with one's work. I have now experienced this first-hand. I still have a ways to go and I'm not ashamed to admit that. Anyway, here's the list:

1. F-Bombs: 73  (42 of those are from the Liverpudlian Noel, and are spelled 'fook')
2. Bedroom Scenes: 3
3. Acid Trips: 2
4. Drug References: 62
5. Editorial Oversights: 7

It's that last one that makes me want to bang my head against the sidewalk. I'm such a perfectionist, I promised myself there would be none of that crap in my book. That's what I get, I guess, for being prideful. I cleaned up some of these oversights for the Kindle edition, so that's something. It's selling more copies than the softcover.

People tell me not to worry about it, that even the best books from the best publishing houses have these oversights, but that doesn't make me hate it any less. I suppose this means that I'll release a second edition at some point, but right now I can't imagine when that will be.

What a Day That Was!

It started out like any other day... Actually, it didn't. I hadn't gotten much sleep because the evening before, plagued with a bad headache, I took some Excedrin, which kept me wired until 4:30 am. Then I kept waking up (I forgot to wear my earplugs, so I heard the garbage truck, the boom-boom cars on their way to school... I heard everything. I finally fell good and asleep around 8:00, but was soon wakened again. Can't remember why. I got up and plugged in the coffee.

About halfway through my first cup I opened my Alla Breve Books mail to find an email from a reporter at our local newspaper (I'd sent out press releases about Nettl's book the day before to a dozen or so papers across the state). He wanted to interview her not only for the paper, but also for a local magazine. I forwarded this info on to Nettl, who was at work, and she phoned me a few minutes later saying she'd set up the interview for noon.

I looked at the clock. It was a little after 10:00. I wolfed down the coffee, poured another cup, and got busy getting myself and the house ready. I keep a tidy house, so that wasn't a big deal. I, on the other hand, was a different story. Again the makeup. I wasn't as happy with the results, but it was morning and I'd had a rough night.

The interview went very well--Nettl did beautifully--and before the reporter left an hour later, he told us he wanted two more stories from us in the weeks to come: one about me and my book and one about Alla Breve Books!

The rest of the day was pretty crazy with email and online congratulations, but the day wound down softly. Oh, and there was one more thing... my copy of my book arrived!

Giving Credit Where it's Due

Sometimes I might complain about living in a smaller town than I might prefer. Stillwater isn't really all that small, actually. During the school year there are upwards of about 50,000 people. That decreases considerably during the summer when the university students leave.

Anyway, one of the pluses of living here is smaller businesses, which means faster, friendlier service. Yesterday, for no apparent reason and without any warning, our DSL modem went dead. I waited about an hour, then called Chickasaw, our local telephone and internet company. No automated system, no being transferred from one desk to the next, no trying to understand the Hindi accent, no hassles. The girl took my information and within 15 minutes the tech was at our door. Cost us nothing, and 10 minutes later we were up on the net again.

So bravo, Chickasaw! Here's to you!