Meet the Author of...Hazel Moon & Hawthorn Moon

 

During a rare meeting in person, one of Heritage Press's favorite authors, Lisa Anne, stopped by to talk shop and work on her manuscript for Hawthorn Moon; the much anticipated sequel to her debut acclaimed novel, Hazel Moon. The pic above shows her first novel and the first half of Hawthorn Moon, 30,000 words of storytelling gold...a worthy sequel to Hazel Moon! For you serious writers out there, we also talked about ways of finding a wider audience for Hazel Moon before launching Hawthorn Moon.

It seems every writer has their own pace at which the words for their story find the printed page. For Lisa Anne, her writing cycle appears to be about seven to eight years. It's never an easy process, and yet for most writers the process is the primary reward and so has to be cherished and appreciated. Her characters come to life on the pages of her writer's notebooks, they talk to her, collaborating on how to tell their story.

 The author is hoping to complete Hawthorn Moon during 2022 and Heritage Press is looking forward to setting a publication date and attending her book launch party!

Nirvana in the News...

 

 

What's so special about Nirvana being in the news...so, yes, more amazing Synchronicity from the Storytelling Fairies...

For the past few weeks this editor has shifted storytelling gears from Hawthorn Moon to Shave Slowly and yes, some amazing coincidences have been occurring, but today, within hours of learning that the Hawthorn Moon author, Lisa Anne, was going to show up at my Mocha Lisa Heritage Press cafe office to work on her manuscript, something she hasn't done in a couple of years, Nirvana is back on a global news network.

 

Lisa's writing alter ego is the Peanut's character, Miss Helen Sweetstory.

 

 

 

I get home, turn on the TV, Amanpour & Company is on, PBS, and who is featured, Nirvana's drummer, David Grohl, pitching his new book, yes, believe it or not, titled, The Storyteller! Now, I only watch a few minutes of Amanpour each day out of the daily hour broadcast, and this interview would likely never air again...Synchronicity Magic!!

You may recall that the band Nirvana is the central musical focus of Hawthorn Moon, whereas the band from England, Echo and the Bunnymen, was featured in Hazel Moon, Lisa's first novel. The unlikely series of connections had all the hallmarks of the Storytelling Fairies. Now, let me pose this question, is this kind of magic only happening to me?

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zuGiyK5uvs

 

Of course not. Even in David Grohl's interview, he talked about being devastated when Kurt Cobain killed himself, gave up music, couldn't pick up an instrument, fled to the wilderness of Scotland, but depressed and driving down an empty road, he sees someone walking, out in the middle of nowhere, and decides to pick him up...that person was wearing a Kurt Cobain T-Shirt...need I say more.

 

Think about anything magical like this happening in your life and please do share it on this blog!

 

David realized that he couldn't escape and instead turned back to his form of storytelling...founded The Foo Fighters...and 16 Grammy Awards later, his book.

 

 

 

Faith Jones...Thank You for the Christmas Miracle...

 

Remember Faith Jones from the last post...overwhelmed by the unlikely Synchronicity of her last name, Jones, connecting her in a magical way to Amy Jones, until recently, Amy Ford's married name, only hours before Christmas Eve I sent her an email to her "admin" account on her web site, not ever expecting her to respond ever, or certainly not for many weeks or months if ever...well, the Storytelling Fairies will have their way, and they have and use other resources to promote the telling of good stories, that is stories that serve the...Greater Good.

Not only did Faith respond in a personal email within hours of receiving it and on the eve of Christmas when everyone is usually overwhelmed with preparing for the big day, but she actually sent Amy's information to her literary agent to review...

I can't tell you how on so many levels, how remarkably unlikely that was...if you're in the writing/publishing business you know that for every 1,000 writers who knock on the door, only one is let in...and of the million or so books published each year, probably less than one in 1,000 will sell more than a couple hundred copies, but that said, without a doubt Faith Jones deserved to land an agent who could open the door to a successful career as a writer. She's paid the price as a child, paid her dues in college after breaking free from The Family, and had a national media connection to all but guarantee that she would be able to sell many many books.

I just ordered a copy of Faith's book, SEX CULT NUN...why do people buy books, because they connect with the author after seeing, hearing, or reading about them and their story. Big Time Publishing is a business. Agents don't make money, publishers like HarperCollins don't make money, unless the author they represent can sell books and Faith's agent knew she could and would.

 

Though author Amy Ford has a similar story to tell, she has yet to make a substantial media connection or on her own to prove to an agent that she can sell books. 

Amy still has work to do, and I knew that before asking Faith to help her, but I sent the email anyway because for the vast majority of writers, the inspiration to write, maintaining hope that one day your stories will find an audience, those things become the reward for the daily grind, along with, of course, the intrinsic satisfaction of creating literary art on the printed page.

Stay tuned and I'll keep you posted on Amy Jones, that is, Amy Ford's quest to find her audience!

 

 

 

Faith Jones...Amy Jones...Yes, More Synchronicity!

 

Those delightful Storytelling Fairies were so faithful while I was working on Hawthorn Moon, but that project is on pause, waiting for the author to review my editing, so I've shifted to reviving a ten-year-old project with great potential. 

I met the author, name, Amy White, at the time, a wonderful storyteller, and during a several-years period we wrote her memoir, Shave Slowly, and a novel based on her life, Lovely Beast, both under the pen name, Amy Ford. 

Amy was an adult entertainer, burned out over a lucrative 10-year career, and shifted gears to a simpler life in wilderness of northern Michigan.

Right now I've reconnected with Amy who is interested in reviving her writing career. First, I updated her blog:

https://amyfordshaveslowly.blogspot.com/

...then, began writing a script for a pilot episode for a limited TV series based on her life as an adult performer, Shave Slowly, based on her https://shaveslowly.bandcamp.com audio recordings. So, you're asking...when is the Synchronicity coming???

Yesterday I was listening to NPR's Fresh Air interview with now famous author, Faith Jones.

 

https://www.npr.org/2021/12/21/1065757559/sex-cult-nun-faith-jones

 

https://www.amazon.com/Sex-Cult-Nun-Breaking-Religious/dp/B08YZ7F2ZP/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=Faith+Jones+book&qid=1640124977&sr=8-3 

 

Until recently Amy’s name was…Amy Jones. I couldn’t help but respond to the Synchronicity connection to her both her name, that would have been enough, but also Amy's story!

As Amy’s editor at Heritage Press I was aware of all the changes in her life. While on retreat in the U.P. of Michigan, Amy met and married, her name now legally, Amy Jones. Ahhhhh, the powerful Synchronicity emerges...Faith Jones...Amy Jones! 

Both were victims of a cult; Faith, The Family, Amy; Jehovah's Witnesses. Each had to summon both courage and strength to break away and establish their independence. Both had aspirations to be motivational speakers and life coaches as well as authors. 

Believing this connection was a "tip" from the Storytelling Fairies, I reached out to Faith:

https://faithjones.com/contact/

After sharing information about Amy, I asked Faith to recommend Amy to her literary agent and suggested that she and Amy really should meet some day…thinking that based on their backgrounds they could become great, fast friends..

 

So, time will tell...famous people like Faith Jones are inundated with requests, but I won't be surprised if Faith responds. It wasn't that long ago that Faith was in the same desperate place that Amy found herself when fighting to first break away from the Jehovah's Witnesses, then, retreating to lick her wounds after 10 years in the flash-for-cash business, marrying a man who turned out to be a monster, divorcing, and struggling to find a new purpose in life.

Time will tell...I'll keep you Posted...

 

...Know a Snowman named Olaf...The Storytelling Fairies Do!!!

 

Well, if you've been following these blog posts about the Storytelling Fairies you'll understand, but today another miraculous guided Synchronicity...

Let me explain...Heritage Press operates out of the Mocha Lisa cafe and I have an arrangement with the baristas that every day they bring me an Espresso with some latte art that they create. Today the barista brought me...

The delightful latte art snowman I took a picture of with my phone and as I do every day, I sent it to the author of Hawthorn Moon, Miss Lisa Anne Minneti. But I wasn't done, I usually follow that up with a GIF, went into my phone, and found a GIF of an animated snowman...I didn't know that it was a famous fantasy character, Olaf, but I sent it along with the latte art pic to Lisa Anne.

Seconds later, she texted back with..."I HAVE TO BE OLAF, THAT SNOWMAN, TOMORROW!!"

Again, let me explain, Lisa, along with her sister, Lori, perform as fantasy characters for parties and apparently Lisa was scheduled to be Olaf tomorrow at a kid's party!!!

 

So, what are the odds that I would randomly first be given a latte art of a snowman, randomly text her a GIF of Olaf, not even knowing who Olaf was, and have her text me right back (which she almost never does) with the revelation that she was playing Olaf tomorrow!

Thank You Storytelling Fairies for caring so much about Hawthorn Moon that you would take the time to orchestrate this magical pat on the back, keep up the good work encouragement!

On The Road...Electric Refrigerator

 

What can I say, Hawthorn Moon is not done and neither are the Storytelling Fairies done encouraging the writing team to keep the project moving forward...yes, another incredible Synchronicity incident today. Having recently completed the final draft edit of author Lisa Anne's initial manuscript, today I was walking past a shelf full of books I haven't looked at for years and years and one book jumped out at me, Jack Kerouac's On The Road.

I pulled it off the shelf, randomly opened it up, began reading down the page, and there it was..."electric refrigerator" one of the unusual references from Hawthorn Moon indicating that November came from a poor family. And, in an even more targeted comment from the Storytelling Fairies, a few lines down from "electric refrigerator" is a reference to a "half-finished manuscript" which is exactly the status of the Hawthorn Moon project.

I've heard even more fantastic stories of books literally jumping off bookstore or library shelves and dropping into the hands of someone in need of the very information contained in the book. My case wasn't that dramatic, but I was clearly moved to pick out that book, open to that page, and there it was...another Synchronicity pat on the back from the Storytelling Fairies!! 

FROM CHAPTER 8 IN HAWTHORN MOON

Perhaps I do have more in common with my mom than I thought. She would whisper these pat phrases, like you were privy to some fabulous secret. One of her favorites was, Some women dream of Gregory Peck, some women dream of Glenn Ford, I dream of a refrigerator with Tupperware.

I was little when she would talk about the refrigerator we never got. I told dad in a whisper once that if we ever got one I wanted to live in it, but not that ugly lame green, it had to be a pretty one—harvest gold. Dad’s eyes brightened as he replied, “If you get cold in the fridge, you should wear a sweater the color of tangerines.”

...the Storytelling Fairies must have a Sense of Humor!!

 

 

https://www.npr.org/2021/11/24/1057250055/dave-grohl-storyteller-from-nirvana-to-foo-fighters

The most recent scene I'm editing in Hawthorn Moon introduces the up-and-coming early '90's Seattle grunge band, Nirvana. So, again, within hours of the editing what do I hear on the radio but a remarkable NPR Fresh Air interview of David Grohl, former Nirvana drummer, recently inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for his work with his band the Foo Fighters.

Okay, so yes, more remarkable Synchronicity, but here's where a "sense of humor" comes in...yes, incredible that at this point in my editing "Nirvana" should be featured on a national media stage in 2021...but more...David Grohl has written a memoir...titled...

THE STORYTELLER!!!!!

 

Tell me the Storytelling Fairies don't have a sense of humor!!

 

HAWTHORN MOON SCENE MENTIONING NIRVANA

 

 

“Dear November…during this month of the Hawthorn Moon, if you select your soulmate, the one who will be the Truth in the bevy of false suitors—that person will become the one true magical love you will ever need. Go get it, girl. Your life can be a fairytale. It’s not so complex anymore…a simple beautiful love. People would give years of their lives to have ten minutes of the love they would see in you with your beloved. A life like that is almost like being in heaven, and believe me I would know. On the other hand, if you should choose one of the comely others, for the wrong reasons, and granted they are all sweet, you will be fated to dilly-dally around with two or three mid level lovers at the same time for the rest of your life. Not without some happiness, mind you, but much exhaustion, drama, and love triangles will follow you to your grave—your days full of secrets and trysts, falling in and out of love over and over and over again.”

After delivering that prophetic warning, shaking me to the core, like God delivering the Ten Commandments to Moses on Mount Sinai, Lady Luna began vocalizing a rather disturbing melody—thrash edgy, defiant…not at all Camelot. Of course I totally liked it.

“What are you humming?” I asked her.

“Oh…Nirvana.”

Then, right on cue, a vision of her prophesy began to unfold right above my head as dozens of pitchers full of sloshing beer appeared, I suppose representing my many male suitors, marching in lockstep unison, like in Fantasia with the sorcerer’s apprentice, Luna the sorcerer, wearing her magic hat; the broomstick suitors—coming…coming…coming…coming.

The sky opened. I cried with pure May rain joy—drenched with amorous men ready to proclaim their undying love and devotion.

The feeling of being desired was an admitted vain weakness of mine and I need it like a crack addict needs their next fix, so much so I couldn’t tell the difference between being in love and loving to be loved.

 

Yes...Here We Go Again...

 

 
 

 https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/2021/11/17/frida-kahlo-self-portrait-sells-record-breaking-34-9-million/8648571002/

This pat on the head by the Storytelling Fairies is a bit more subtle, but no less effective. Within hours of editing a Hawthorn Moon chapter titled, Frida Kahlo Red, the national news was letting the world know that one of her self portraits had just been sold for 34 million dollars.

Now, Frida Kahlo, was an arcane choice on the part of the author to begin with, and this reference was written into her manuscript several years ago, long before she became famous in her own right. So, another case of a remarkable occurrence, guided Synchronicity...letting the Hawthorn Moon writing team know that our storytelling efforts are not going unnoticed! 

 

CHAPTER 10 FRIDA KAHLO RED

 

…I walk with pride with a Black girlfriend…

…my mom said not to bring her around.

                                                                  Everclear

 

My lips tasted like sweat, someone else’s. My lower lip had just started bleeding.

“So…you’re a vampire?”

My blood was a healthy red, a spring red, on his face. He picked me up like that last cheerleader launched to the top of a Friday Night Lights pyramid—the one the crowd was waiting for. He held me so tight. I wanted to be broken, shattered on the burnt caramel carpet.

“Do you believe in magic?”

“Are you the magic?”

“Now, that would be you…Miss Moonbright.”

Jupiter—the Prince of Light, that centaur bowing his arrow, galloping with confidence through the Milky Way.

 

Frida Kahlo once said, “Take a lover who looks at you like you might be magic.”

There it was…that feeling, like this moment was all I had ever wanted, or would ever want, and it did not matter because he was fucking everything.

He carefully turned me over and kept repeating, my favorite…my favorite…my favorite. Then, a whispered…love you, as my face buried deep into the hard hotel pillow.

Like all spells of magic and sorcery, they can shatter, like a windshield in a car collision, into shards of jagged daggers, daggers that can damage and deform.

“I am very fond of our relationship, Miss Moonbright,” his words delivered slow and soft, as if he was confessing—not full of the velvety crunch of his day-to-day swagger.

I could not see his face. It was nestled in my hair and looking backwards. Maybe he was kissing me. Fond…that word freaked me into a much-too-easy role.  Fuck Fond…I erupted in my mind, like Joan Crawford in those ‘60’s horror flicks. Did he forget he was dealing with a Warrior?

It felt like I was too drunk on a Chardonnay that had spent much too much time in an oak barrel, it was bubbling up from my stomach and I was going to vomit right there and then on the itchy pretend wool blanket. Fond…a word to describe a favorite cheeky aunt, or a chubby backyard squirrel you see chomping on hazelnuts through your window while you sip that first cup of morning coffee. I almost shouted…you suck, you fucking asshole, but didn’t.

Damn, there I go again, wanting to use four-letter words. At least this time I only thought the F-bomb…really have to cut back on my cursing. Luna would say, it’s just not ladylike—but am I a lady?

Anyway, there it was again…that haunting symbol, this time on the door lock—the Hawthorn Rune sign. The pitted brass seemed to glow. Did it want to help me?

Escape…bust a move and boast a lie.

“Life is too short for bad sex…and I have lots of opportunities,” I hissed, dressing and quickly gathering my things.

I grabbed the door handle, feeling like Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley—strong, fearless, badass. I did not slam the door though, didn’t need to.

Some Broadway show tune was bellowing in the halls of the hotel. Twilight was creeping into the new day and rainbows were already bouncing off the shiny vinyl wallpaper.

Now running, a heroine in my own film noir movie, I collided with a chambermaid. You could hardly see her tiny frame, balancing armfuls of once white sheets. She gave me a quick nod and started stuffing them in a way-too-small garbage hamper.

“Miss, excuse me, but if you’re throwing those out, please let me take them. I can use them for god’s sake!”

Life. Can we make a musical after all?

She was tiny, young, and probably did not speak much English, but someone taking the work burden off of your shoulders is a universal language.

Her lipstick was red—Frida Kahlo red.

She said with crispy, tidy English, “You are welcome to my garbage.”

    

 

 

 

Tupperware & the Storytelling Fairies

 

 

Well, do I have to say it...yep, the Storytelling Fairies were at it again today...within hours of editing a scene in Hawthorn Moon dealing with "refrigerators & Tupperware" I pull into the parking lot of my Mocha Lisa Cafe Heritage Press office and what do I see but the van above, a vehicle I'd never before seen at the cafe or in my life.

And, to make this unlikely Synchronous event even more impossible without some Storytelling Fairy influence, I spoke to the lady driving the van, she told me that a girlfriend had her come to the cafe's open house a few days ago, she won a raffle prize, and was only there for a few minutes to pick up the prize!

REMARKABLE...

 

THE TUPPERWARE SCENE FROM HAWTHORN MOON

 

Ooooh ‘70s…digging the retro vibe at the Holiday Inn, greeted by huge cantaloupe-colored pendant lights—designed as enormous ice cubes meeting each other, some sticking out together. The glow from them was dim and dingy, like a ripe avocado pit…totally relaxing.

Perhaps I do have more in common with my mom than I thought. She would whisper these pat phrases, like you were privy to some fabulous secret. One of her favorites was, some women dream of Gregory Peck, some women dream of Glenn Ford, I dream of a refrigerator full of Tupperware.

I was little when she would talk about the refrigerator we never got. I told dad in a whisper once that if we ever got one I wanted to live in it, but it could not be that ugly lame green, it had to be a pretty one—harvest gold. Dad’s eyes brightened as he replied, “If you get cold in the fridge, you should wear a sweater the color of tangerines.”

“Thanks for coming here, Mr. Marcus Aurelius. Mommy really wanted to see Aaron do his Elvis thing, and well, it even smells like fun here,” said Angela, breaking into her favorite hip-hop moves for emphasis before adding, “my brothers…had a group, Brothers 5, and they taught me everything I know about dance,” to explain her soft-shoe skills before anyone even asked.

Marcus joined in with a sweet Michael Jackson spin just for emphasis and replied, “How do you like that, Miss Angela with an A. I’m here for your Momma Rosa…all in, no other reason.”

He smiled, his head slightly tilted, as Angela shook her shag haircut and blew Marcus a kiss, leaving her tongue slightly below her two front teeth.

“You like Elvis, don’t you? I mean, everyone likes Elvis,” Angela added.

“I’m Black…does that answer your question?”

Ripley & a Romantic Crescent Moon

 

 

Well, the Storytelling Fairies pitched me a double-header today. Within hours of editing a reference to Sigourney Weaver's Ripley character in the film Aliens, I found myself by sheer Synchronicity chance watching a film I haven't seen since it was at the movie theater on an obscure channel I never go to, but right under TCM, a channel I almost always look at each and every day.

As if that wasn't enough of a "tap on the shoulder" by the Storytelling Fairies, within an hour of editing a scene in Hawthorn Moon where the over all theme of the novel, centered around finding a Soul Mate, had our Armenian heroin, November Rainer Savitchian, confronted with all the men she could be soul mates with, I leave my Heritage Press remote office, the Mocha Lisa Coffee Shop, look up, and there in the sky was the most romantic of all celestial scenes...a crescent moon "kissing" it's near soulmate, the planet Saturn.

This phenomenon, though rare, I've come to almost expect when working on storytelling projects. Can I prove that the Storytelling Fairies exist...no...but how else do you explain what is happening!

 

SCENE INVOLVING THE SOUL MATE THEME, FROM HAWTHORN MOON

 

This day…what was all happening. First Gutter, now some other dude is heading towards me, a sure, steady, sexy stride. Oh my…it’s that intense Italian guy from the coffee shop, looking smoking in a slim charcoal blazer…pure sprezzatura!

“Jacamo…what the…so great to see you.”

 

He had me panting so that I could hardly get the words out. I almost dropped some four-letter words, but so sick of cussing, passed right by them. At this point I was done talking and wanted to start making stuff happen.

 

“Jacamo will get the teddies,” directed Gutter, turning to Jacamo, “Victoria’s Secret, you know at the mall next to Wet Seal. Get sizes 34B and 36C, in red lace. So, let’s go slam-a-shot man…way cool to see you. You’re looking good, have you been working out,”

Gutter squeezed Jacamo’s bulging bicep while adding one of his above average soft shoe shtick routines for editorial emphasis.

 

“Something about this day…I feel like anything is possible—best damn day of my life,” Gutter shared.

 

Jacamo nodded in that serious paisano way he had, leering at me like I was some Catholic school girl flirting with sinful thoughts during the boring parts of mass. But then, I think he looks at all girls like that.

 

“November…you okay, what can I get you…anything?” he asked, grounded in this studied realness that so defined him, but I shook my head, no—not even Jacamo was for the moment going to make these lips do anything but focus on the video.

 

Then, Gutter jumped in with, “Spice, you’re rocking it, I love all your crazy stuff. I’m telling you the delights are going to be plentiful, but here’s the big jam, the understated super-steal message of the video—you, yes you, are going to be drinking a wooden chalice filled with red wine…chalice red wine…big chalice…red…very red…Spice drinking it…in a close-the-deal big chalice.”

 

As they walked away, the music, the sound of the heavy bass, pounding and smoky, I couldn’t help it, I dropped the sheets and started following the beat—happy as a zombie who’d just finished a meal of monkey brains.

 

Hazy smoke, the milky cream color of selenite, enveloped the band, now dressed in darkness, rehearsing for the upcoming video shoot in the bowling alley ballroom. The backbeat was hauntingly familiar—I kept swallowing my heart, but felt it escaping back up my throat. I was choking…on my misguided heart…then, I saw a woman, in white, dancing in a rainbow.

 

DAMMIT LUNA.

 

Approaching the stage, there she was two-stepping around a hero of my past, one I never got to love, sweet, sweet Pauley—RIP MY HEART OUT WHY DON’T YOU, LADY LUNA.

 

I’m also hearing a harmonica bellow and my whole body was seizing—both living and dead at the same time. It was Marcus on the harmonica, also on stage…Marcus, the best sweet lover of my life. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

 

Pauley, yes Adonis like, a bass player god, who, rocking his famous riffs on his Fender Boxer Bass, he was untouchable. Luna appeared loose, without a care in the world, while also flirting with the entire audience. She was singing a lick from “Luck Be a Lady Tonight” in a seductively low whisper that was barely audible over the screeching of her lead guitar.

 

Alive…yes, I was, and more than merely breathing I was bursting with sweet, sweet love—Marcus and Pauley on stage, Gutter on my right and Jacamo on my left.

 

Overwhelmed, closing my eyes I felt naked.

 

What was I so afraid of…             

           

 

 

The Storytelling Fairies...Like Peanuts!

 

 

Well...the storytelling fairies are at it again...this time within a few hours of editing a scene about a Hawthorn Moon character, Loyalty, who loved to skate and who is devoted to her mother, I opened the paper and saw the Peanuts cartoon above.

If you followed my blog, you know that these rare coincidences, which appear guided and directly connected to the story being told, seem to be presented to the team telling the story as a way to encourage them, pat them on the back...as in Keep up the Good Work!

The editing of author Lisa Minneti's first draft of the Hawthorn Moon manuscript is proceeding at a good pace and her new novel, the sequel to Hazel Moon, should be out early in 2022.

Here is the scene from Chapter 8 of Hawthorn Moon dealing with skating.

 

CHAPTER 8   SINGAPORE SLING

Pulling up to the park where she always roller-blade danced with her taxicab-yellow skates and biker shorts, I sighed. The sky was so ripe, like the color of Georgia peaches at their peak. I felt out of sorts…why was I hanging around this virtual stranger, letting him kiss me, and being so whatever about it. I need to get my people around me. I never ever wanted to be some fake pass-around, living at the bidding of others.

Paused for a moment at the park, I said, “When she skates, it’s just like a glimpse of heaven,” waving to get her attention.

Loyalty was the babe of the family, but had this grandmother way about her—this common sense quality and sometimes it seemed that her mom, Khloe Tree, was the child and Loyalty was in charge of the household.

I gave Gutter a look. He was surprising in a good way sometimes, but he was an asshole no doubt—but not really one of those really bad fucked-up assholes. I was actually the one feeling fucked-up.

Why had I gotten sweet Marcus’ little sister involved in all this drama? Oh, yeah, to save me—I guess it really was all about me. Mr. Gutter doesn’t know it, but this is going to be the fastest video take of all time.

“Miss November!” said Loyalty who had come over to the car.

I tried to give her an affectionate smile, but under the circumstances could only muster a toothless smirk. Thank god for Gutter, he got out of the car and as a gesture of respect opened the back door for her.

Giggling in that cute teenage way, as she took off her skates, my mind drifted, weighed down with the feeling of being so responsible for everything going down. Gutter had put on a Christmas Rap CD and Loyalty was singing quietly to the tunes as Gutter droned on filling the air with big words like proletarian chic while suggesting a fashion look for the video.

I felt like I’d created this big burgundy water balloon, it was right overhead, and was about to burst leaving us all totally wet and unquestionably uncomfortable.

 

 

Here we go again...another wild Synchronicity ride from the "Storytelling Fairies"...

Nearly finished editing the manuscript for A Judas Kiss For Justice, I'd gotten to a story involving a lawyer who had become famous for handling the Lee Marvin Palimony Case.

Now, I haven't seen a Lee Marvin film in decades, but within 24 hours of editing this scene, just by chance I watched a film, The Professionals, staring Lee Marvin.

What are the odds...

THE LEE MARVIN PALIMONY CASE

 

 

As a founding member of NAPPS (National Association of Professional Process Servers) I began getting legal documents to serve from law offices from many different states. One was the Law Office of Marvin Mitchelson in Los Angeles, California. an attorney to stake out a body shop on the outskirts of Lake Zurich, Illinois.

Mr. Mitchelson had become noted for being he first attorney to argue the merits of a Palimony Case which later became famous in legal circles and known widely as The Lee Marvin Palimony Case.

Lee Marvin was a well known and established movie actor at the time. That said, the one sent to my office was another palimony case that had been filed in California with the respondent being a guy who owned 32 maternity stores in and around the country.

I served the papers on the person named and found at the address they gave me, sent the law office my Affidavit of Service along with my invoice. In about three weeks I received a check, another copy of the same documents I’d already served, along with a letter explaining that they had made a mistake and sent me to the wrong address, and would I serve the papers again, this time to the right person at the new address.

I did, with no problem whatsoever, I sent them another invoice and again sent a check. Now, in my world, attorney Marvin Mitchelson is a legal rock star and I seriously thought of not cashing the check and instead framed it and hung the check from the Law Office of Marvin Mitchelson in my office.

An attorney friend saw the check and suggested cashing it after making a photocopy and hanging that on my wall.

I followed his advice, but I wish I hadn’t—somehow I lost the photocopy and now all I have is a memory.

Some things…many things are worth much more than money.

Marvin Mitchelson had reached the pinnacle of his/our profession as a famous palimony lawyer and his firm conducted business all over the world—with offices in Los Angeles, New York, and Paris.

 

 

 

 

 

The picture above is the apartment house where the gruesome murder of Holly Staker took place on August 17, 1992. The author of the book I'm currently editing, Ron Kranig, began working the case shortly after the murder when the woman who lived in the apartment, the person who'd hired Holly, an 11-year-old girl, to babysit her two children, contacted Mr. Kranig, asking for his help to investigate the crime.

During a 20-year odyssey in search of justice for Holly, Mr. Kranig managed to free the wrongfully convicted Juan Rivera, but Holly's killer was never identified. Ron Kranig, however, had not given up, moved to Florida, and continued hoping that someday there would be justice in the Holly Staker case.

As another sign from the "Storytelling Fairies" to keep the project going, for the first time I recently looked at Ron's Florida home address and found...Holly Hill, Florida!

Seeing that remarkable Synchronicity, not "Holy" as might be expected, but Holly, I knew Ron Kranig was a...man of destiny... 

Mayo Clinic Minute: Music Fortifies Brain Pathways

 

 

Well, it's happened again, the "Storytelling Fairies" patted me on the back today with another complimentary Synchronicity coincidence.

Within hours of posting a proposal to NPR's This American Life, suggesting a radio story about the Mayo Clinic and how as a result of their polio treatment back in the '50's at least one patient, the author I am now working with on A Judas Kiss For Justice, Ron Kranig, insists that only after his months at the Mayo Clinic did a near perfect photographic memory develop for anything he saw, read, or heard. 

My story proposal was that This American Life should find out if there were other polio patients who developed the same or other enhanced abilities. In Ron's case, he also believed that he grew about four inches taller than his father or brother.

So, within hours of that pitch I open the newspaper and find this article:

https://newsnetwork.mayoclinic.org/discussion/mayo-clinic-minute-music-on-the-brain/

Mayo Clinic Minute: suggesting that music has the power to fortify brain pathways.

Now, you have to understand that for the first time in my life I sent a proposal to This American Life dealing with the Mayo Clinic and that within a few hours I see an article in the paper directly connected to that Mayo Clinic post. 

That was all I needed to feel the Storytelling Fairies sweet pat on my back encouraging me to

                                                ...Keep Telling Your Story!!!

 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4eOOz39iA_Y&list=PLaW84zjbaYZLLeYpcZkxulRohrZ7zDdEG&index=2

In this episode, Confession of Guilt, I'm shaking my head...as I've mentioned before in posts the "Storytelling Fairies" enjoy toying with me during writing projects...tantalizing me with impossibly rare Synchronicity coincidences that tell me they are watching and approve of the story I'm currently telling!

 

I haven't seen these Rumpole episodes for 30 years, but I recently saw this one...a person of color was collared for a crime he didn't commit and railroaded into a coerced confession by the detective who arrested him.

 

Why is this such a remarkable coincidence, in my current project In Development, A Judas Kiss For Justice, in the Holly Staker Murder case a young man of color, also feeble minded, was arrested without evidence for the gruesome murder of a young girl, Holly Staker. They grilled him for hours until he signed a coerced confession, which was the prosecution's only evidence used to convict him three times before the Northwestern University-Center for Wrongful Convictions exonerated Juan Rivera, who later earned a 20 million dollar settlement. This case was the primary reason for the author, Ron Kranig, to write his memoir, in hopes of finally finding Justice for Holly Staker whose killer, 20 years later, is still unidentified.