It Was Always Love-Repost from 4-24-16

I wrote this post for the first time in 2016, shortly after Prince died. It’s still my story. I still feel every word. And I still miss him.

It was always love.

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I'm a writer. There has always been something cathartic in telling a story. So in the midst of incredible sadness I am sharing my story with you.

My partner says that she went to the movies with a friend one day to see whatever show happened to be playing and ended up seeing Purple Rain, a movie that changed her forever. From that moment on she was obsessed--still is--and thanks Prince for much of the joy she's had in her life.

My path was not as direct. He had to touch my life three times before I listened.

1979

Thank you for a funky time, call me  up...

On my way to high school driving the first of two cars given to me by my father, the song I Wanna Be Your Lover came on. The music was okay, but the lyrics made my head spin. Chock full of double entendres (I wanna be the only one to make you come...running), I couldn't get it out of my head for days. But trying to balance my perfectionist compulsion with wanting to fit in with my peers had turned high school into a three year long hurricane for me. I had a hard enough time holding on to my shit--I couldn't add one more thing to my burden.

1984

Somebody please tell me what the hell is wrong

The second time I became aware of Prince was when Purple Rain came out. I was newly married and in an unfamiliar place with no friends. I don't have memory of going to or being in the theater (my memory often fails me when it comes to very emotional moments), but I remember  buying a beta max copy of the movie as soon as it came out. I coveted that fat short rectangular box (I still have it), but for reasons I can't explain, I never watched it.

The third time, as they say, was the charm.

1987

In my darkest hour, you can be my bliss

I took a job two hours away from my home and my husband and lived with my mother. I had a great time. I loved my job, had some adventures with my mom (like driving 45 minutes to buy a pizza that boasted cheese UNDER the sauce, not over it), and spent time with my sister and brother and their families. Moreover, every other weekend I honeymooned with my husband. Life moved along pretty smoothly.

Except at night. I started having nightmares. At first they came infrequently, and I barely remembered them. As time went on they grew more frequent and more horrifying. Eventually I had bad dreams every night. There seemed to be two themes--black roses and elevators. Black rose dreams woke me up crying.  Elevator dreams were worse.

I know now that I was reliving sexual abuse I'd experienced as a child. I was in the same room, largely unchanged--the purple walls I'd begged for, music and academic awards (evidence of my hyper-vigilent perfection), and the bed. The bed.

Any time I was alone with my thoughts I thought about dying. What death would feel like. All the years of my nephews and nieces lives that I'd miss. Pieces of my nightmares started to come to me during the day. I searched continually for distractions, trying to save myself. One day I saw an ad in the newspaper about an upcoming Prince concert. I remembered his movie and that song, and how they made me feel. I really wanted to go, but not alone. My sister told me her husband was a big fan (her, not so much) and that he'd probably go with me if I had my heart set. He did.

October 1988

Do you want him, or do you want me?

We had tickets in the Nosebleed Section because we'd gotten them so late, but it didn't matter. The entire arena was filled by the presence of the little, ethereally beautiful man on the stage. I was captivated--couldn't take my eyes off of him. But the music transformed me. He sang of love and sensuality and peace and God and sex. His voice resonated, reverberated throughout my body. I sometimes make a joke, saying if he'd asked me that night for all of my worldly possessions I would have given them to him. But it was the truth.

The next day I went to every record store I could find and bought every tape Prince had ever released. I drove around for hours listening to his music. He didn't become "the soundtrack of my life". He became my reason to keep living.

1991

I want to jump for joy and thank him I'm not alone

I'd gotten a bigger and better job and moved back with my husband. While stalking a record store (my new hobby), I came across Prince's official fan magazine, Controversy. Not only was it heaven on the page with big, color, never before seenpictures of him, but it had a pen pal section. Suddenly, I wasn't alone. I'd found my tribe--men and women who experienced Prince the way I did.  Miraculously, the first person I connected with became my partner. I like to say Prince gave her to me.

Present day

Can't begin to understand how I feel about you, everything I want to do I can't do without you

My life is filled with good friends who I connect with over songs and youtube clips, through marriages and divorce, through children and grandchildren, over the mountains that life put in front of our best efforts and under the bridges that we've fallen from. When we're happy, we listen to his music and watch his movies. When we're sad, we do the same. Since his passing, we cling to each other and assure ourselves we'll get through this, and that we'll find joy again.

I've seen Prince in concert over one hundred times. I have every song he's released, and sometimes multiple versions thereof. My partner and I celebrate his milestones--birthdays, awards, performances. Our annual Super Bowl parties celebrate his 2007 award-winning appearance. Many of our milestones are commemorated with concerts that hold special meaning. There is not one room in our home in which he's not evident, either in fact or by influence. (We're still trying to figure out how to put the Shower Poster in the bathroom.)

My friends and I are asking questions of ourselves and each other. Where do we go from  here? Who will we be, if not Prince Fans? How will it feel to not look forward to his next album, the next concert, the next TV appearance?

The only answer is that his music is a part of us. It's in our cells and are the songs in the background of everything. Our experiences with him and because of him live on.

• Getting his autograph in NYC and almost fainting because we thought he'd levitated, a tiny angel dressed in white.

• Nearly being "rear-ended" by him in MPLS because he was driving too fast and we were going too slow.

• Hearing gunshot and fearing for our lives as we left Glam Slam, his former club.

• Flying to England for concerts and spending a sleepless night at the only after show I've attended.

• Going to his store in MPLS so many times the manager told his staff "Play whatever videos they want to see".

• Grieving with him, from a distance, when he lost his child.

• Meeting our pen pals. (LOVE YOU ALL)

• Standing outside at 2am in line for a show, with some of the craziest and friendliest people we've ever met.

Never say the words "They're gone"

The world is off its axis. I already miss him. My heart aches, and in quiet moments it's hard to breathe. I'm not ready to watch all of the tributes. I can't even listen to his songs without overwhelming sadness. But I'm ready, finally, to say a few things to him.

Dearest Prince,

I am ever grateful for the beautiful ways you've touched (saved) my life and for all of the people that are in it because of you. I'm thankful for your music which fuels my soul. 

There was no way you could have known, but it was always love. I've been blessed to have shared the planet with you.

I wish you heaven. 

I Found Them When I Needed Them.

Music has always been an important part of my life. It lifts me up when I am sad, makes me think about life, and entertains me endlessly. For many years, Prince fueled my music obsession. If you want to know why and are new to L.A.M.,I talk about it here. It Was Always Love.

When he died in 2016, I was lost. For many years after that, I couldn’t bring myself to listen to any music at all. The world, formerly filled with vibrant colors, looked and felt gray. Then one day, years later, I was watching television and a cell phone commercial came on. Seven guys with multi-colored hair were singing and dancing. Honestly, their look first attracted me. Each one had a different type of handsome. Actually, I’d say beautiful.

But something about their voices and the way they moved hooked me.

It didn’t take much research to find out who they were: The K-pop phenom, BTS. Bangtan Sonyeondan. The more I listen to them, the further down the rabbit hole I went. It was crazy! Unlike the song I first heard them sing in the commercial, most of their songs are in Korean. But it doesn’t matter. Their lyrics are powerful. Their voices fill me with so much joy. Their melodies move me. They write and produce manyof their songs.

And those guys can dance.

If you’re thinking KPop is just for kids, give this group a listen. If you think KPop idols are just kids themselves, check them out. For now, BTS is on a long-term hiatus, taking off a few years to complete their mandatory military service. Although they aren’t performing as a group, each member is going his own way as they await their enlistment dates. They’re making solo albums, modeling, and becoming high-visibility brand ambassadors for upscale clothing and jewelry. No reason to miss them yet.

It was time for a break, I suppose. They’ve been in the music business since 2013. In some ways, I’m sorry I wasn’t following them back then, but the word among fans is that you find BTS when you need them the most. Today, just as I was one of Prince’s hardcore fans, I am now a certified Army—the name for BTS’s most dedicated fans. It amazes me still that like Prince, BTS— Jin, Suga, J-Hope, RM, Jimin, V, and Jungkook—saved me.

Concerts in the Age of Covid

The last concert I attended pre-Covid was Richard Marx. It was great fun. Not only is he a talented singer/songwriter but he is funny and engaging.

I had no idea that would be my last, in-person show.

During Covid, musicians suffered. Touring is a major income stream for both bands and soloists. Responses to not being able to tour varied. Innovative performers found ways to perform. Online concerts were big deals. Some were free to keep fans engaged. Individuals frequently used social media to play for their fans in a more intimate way.

A few adventurous bands performed while they and their audiences were in bubbles, actual physical barriers against the virus. Don’t believe me? Check this out:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/flaming-lips-concert-perform-inflatable-bubbles-oklahoma/

In the aftermath, many things are changing. People are back to work. Restaurants are busy again. Movie theaters have opened. Concerts are back, too. Big and small, indoor and outdoor venues fill to capacity (sometimes at extreme costs).

But as much as I love in-person concerts, they go on without me. I have not forgotten the devastation of Covid. The millions of people it killed—some of whom were my friends. I can’t forget how it’s spread—through the air primarily. To be at a venue surrounded by a crowd of unmasked people cheering and singing is a risk I’m not willing to take.

I just can’t forget. How can anyone?

Something Great is Coming

I’m in the final editing stage for Waiting for the Son. It’s very exciting. I’m currently debating the whole “preorder” process. The last time I tried it, all of the preorders were lost and not recovered due to a glitch with the retailer.

Anyway, while I’m finalizing the book, I have returned to my playlist—songs that remind me of my hero or his story. Pull up a chair and your beverage of choice, and take a listen.

The Songs of My Life.

Anyone who knows me knows that music moves me. At my writing group the other night, we asked the question, “What is your theme song, the song that plays everytime you walk into a room?” Although we came up with the question, no one had an answer. We decided to table it for future discussion. Just for fun.

Typical of me, I’ve been obsessed with this. What is my theme song? Not the one that I wish would play. But the one that is played. In other words, the song that I think represents me in some way. It is a tough, tough question. If you don’t believe me, try to answer it for yourself.

I finally stumbled on it. My theme song is ON by BTS. It’s a rousing anthem about taking the pain that life can bring and fighting, only to rise again.

Check it out.

This led me to think, what song leads the soundtrack of my life at this moment in my life? That question wasn’t nearly as challenging. I recognize that time is passing so it’s important to focus on the things that bring you joy and nourish you. The song, For Youth, laments a little about the passage of time, but also acknowledges that the most precious thing is enduring love.

What are the songs on the soundtrack of YOUR life?

The Soundtrack of My Writing

Everything I write evokes a mood, and that mood requires songs. There are also certain songs that elicit a feeling about a character, or perfectly describe the relationship the characters have with each other.

Sometimes, I listen to music when i write. At other times, my writing compels me to listen to music. For instance, if I’m stuck, I’ll listen to a song that I think represents what my character is going through and gain inspiration.

The playlist for my upcoming release, Waiting on the Son, is a little bit of all of those things. Waiting for the Sun, a song by The Doors, speaks to the feeling of being on the precipice of something wonderful. Drive by Incubus talks about the fear of taking charge of one’s life—an ongoing glitch in Cheyenne’s psyche. Stay Alive is Zander’s plea to Cheyenne as he embarks on his quest.

I invite you to check out the Waiting on the Son playlist. Let me know what you think!

Word Candy

Language is fluid, always changing to incorporate new words and phrases. I’m old school and absolutely refuse to accept new meanings or made-up words in my speech or text. 

• My characters will never refer to each other as Bae.

• They will never call something “adorbs”.

Colorful speech bubbles

I am far less rigid when accepting phrases, especially those in an entertainment context.  I have been known to utter. “I’ll be back,” when it fits the situation. “Do you feel lucky?” is a question my dogs have heard when they refuse to do something I tell them to do. I’ve said   “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” and “We’re not in Kansas anymore”  more times than I want to admit.  “Stay behind me if you want to live,” is sure to elicit groans

Sadly, I’ve not been to see a new movie in over two years.  I have, however, gleefully leapt down the rabbit hole known as YouTube. Consequently, I cannot watch a video by a certain group without hearing the comments of Cameron Phillip K.’s dubs.Not unexpectedly, I’ve picked up many new phrases. 

I now submit to you a list of phrases I use all the time that came from my foray into YouTube over the past year.  I’m not including the dozens of phrases that have come from Prince lyrics (you’re welcome) but I apologize in advance if you’ve been subjected to them or the ones below.  

• Party, party, yeah!

• Jimin-Go back to sleep!

• Jimin’s got no jams!

• In this economy, (followed by a non-sequitur: In this economy, she’s prettier than I am.)

• No, not today!

• Stob it!

• World-Wide Handsome.

• He looks like a boiled dumpling.

• and the one we use most—Socks first!

What phrases have inadvertently entered your day-to-day language?

Finding Music in Unusual Places

I'm not quite sure when it happened, but I stopped listening to the radio.

It probably happened when I stopped driving every day, which was really the only time I listened. But I distinctly remember a day of running errands when I noticed the same song playing when I went into the store as when I came back out. I love music, but it became obvious that radio stations were playing the same songs over and over.

My partner and I recently compared what we had on our phones. She’d never heard of most of the songs on mine. How was I choosing what to buy with my iTunes gift cards?

I hadn’t been paying attention. After looking at my list and giving it some thought, it became obvious: I bought music I heard in TV shows, commercials, and movies. It isn’t always easy to figure out the names of those songs or the artist, especially since only small segments of the song are usually played. The internet to the rescue!

Thanks to google and YouTube, nearly every song can be found eventually, but there is a bit of trial and error. Sometimes I find the song by looking at the music list for an episode of a TV show or googling a specific commercial. As long as I know the year the commercial aired, this works pretty well.

When I have only a line or two from the song, I have to listen to snippet after snippet on iTunes to find the one I want. I’ll give you an example. I heard a bit of a song on a video in YouTube. The only word I could remember when it came time to search for the song was “pray”.  iTunes has pages of artists who have recorded songs called Pray--and I wasn’t even sure this was the main word!   So, trial and error began as I listened to snippets of every song. I finally found it on a soundtrack from a movie I never saw. Sadly, this doesn’t work if the snippet is not the same as the one I heard and liked.

Another problem is it’s not always clear which versions of a song I want. For instance, do I want Toxic by Brittany Spears or the cast of Glee? I sometimes make mistakes.  It turns out I wanted the Glee version but bought Brittany because Glee didn’t come up on my first search.

Of course, it is also a lovely way to procrastinate. I can justify it as work related:  “It will go on my book’s playlist”. 

 Examples from commercials: 

• Under the Milky way by Sia

• Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney

From TV shows:

• An Honest Man by Fantastic Negrito (Hand of God)

• In the Shadows by Amy Stroup (Lucifer)

• Multiple songs from Shadowhunters, WWE pay per views, Supernatural…

  From Movies:

• Pray from Fifty Shades Darker soundtrack

• Everybody Knows from Suicide squad soundtrack

While I don’t have a lot of Top-10 songs, my phone has a great variety of music I love. What to hear some of them? Check them out on one of my Youtube playlists.

Five Things Every Writer Needs

Woman at a table writing in a book with a cup of tea at her side.

A ritual is a combination of symbols, actions, words, and gestures. Rituals can be spiritual, religious, or ceremonial. We also engage in rituals because of their consistency and continuity. For this reason, rituals offer a sense of calm and familiarity.

Many of us are writers. Some are published authors; some are on their way. Some people write stories for their own amusement; others journal for their sanity. Still others write for work. Over the course of my life I’ve fallen into each one of these categories. No matter the type of writing or why one writes, there seems to be ritual involved.

There are five things it seems every writer needs for their writing ritual.

1. A favorite pen. Even if we don’t use it often because we write on the computer, we have a pen that is beautiful and meaningful to us. Long before I started writing for others, a group of friends and I wrote an underground fanzine. Most of the articles/stories began their lives handwritten in a favorite journal.

2. A favorite journal. We might hold it dear because it’s gorgeous, or because of the person who gave it to us. It might remind us of a special place, too. My best friend who is also an author has several journals that she staunchly refuses to write in because they mean so much to her. There are others that are merely slightly less cherished that she uses regularly.

3. A special beverage and/or food item. Some of my author friends are coffee people, others tea. Most of them bring wine and/or candy to the party, too. In a previous life, I wrote grants. Big grants, small grants, foundation grants, federal grants. The federal ones were the worst. They were humongous and complex in terms of required research and writing. I’d write around the clock to finish them. Diet Coke and potato chips got me through every time.

4. A PlayList. A writer’s playlist is a group of songs that either motivate us to write, remind us of our story or our characters, or both. I don’t have a playlist yet for my Work in Progress, but I do have one for my first book. Maybe I’ll share it in my newsletter.

5. Totems. Totems are items that carry spiritual significance, or are symbolic of an important concept. I know two authors who have stuffed animal totems. I have several that are emblematic of serious supernatural writing—to me, anyway. Black fingerless gloves. Goth jewelry. Yellow candles for creativity. Pictures of people who remind me of my characters.

I don’t think rituals are unique to writers. My mom was a caterer who couldn’t cook without the strongest iced tea ever made. I know an artist who must use specific brushes, and swears his best work happens in a particular light of day. Do you have any rituals? What items are integral to your creative processes?

The Wrap Tour Revisited

I don’t think it is unusual for people to have several personal anniversaries. For me, April will always bring back memories of the Wrap Tour. In 2004, my partner and I were in the middle of writing an urban fantasy.  Ok, most of our books have musicians in them but this one actually featured a rock star on tour.

Our of the blue, our favorite musician announced a tour, the first in several years. The problem, since it was not a planned tour, new dates kept being added while the tour was in progress which means the musician did a lot of crisscrossing the country.  We had a deadline.  What were we going to do?  Keep writing and leave our concert destiny to fate? Nope.

I am known in some circles as the Queen of Ticketmaster.  If I set my mind on getting good tickets, I stalk Ticketmaster until I get them. But tickets to each of these shows was a surprise.  We would have no idea where our seats would be until we picked up the tickets right before the show. I’m sure you can see the problem here. How far were we willing to go for unknown seats?

The tour started in the Midwest in March.  Our first show was in Pennsylvania in April.  From there were drove to Columbia, South Carolina.  Then, because of late booking, we backtracked to Knoxville Tennessee.  Then crossed to Raleigh NC.  Next Stop was Jacksonville, Fl, the up to Birmingham, Alabama, and then Atlanta, Georgia.  We were exhausted and briefly were sick in Florida, so we took a short break and rejoined the tour for 2 shows in DC, then up to Hartford, Connecticut, New Jersey, and New York. We did a total of 12 shows in in 11 states in a period of 3 weeks. We lived on 2:00AM IHOP omelets and BLT or chicken salad wraps from Arby’s while on the road. 

We noted some interesting coincidences.  Every time I wore t-shirt and jeans, we had front row seats.  If I dressed a little less casually, we would be a little further back.  For most of the shows we were in the first 5 rows.  There really isn’t anything like the thrill and the intimacy that is created when you are literally at the feet of your idol, watching him do his thing.

But it isn’t always as wonderful as it sounds.  There is an implied social contract with the band when you’re up front.  You have the responsibility to REALLY show that you’re enjoying the performance which usually means standing up, cheering uncontrollably, and singing along.  We had 3 shows that were on the first balcony  That is a whole different experience.  You can see the whole stage, not just the front.  We learned that we missed a lot of cool interactions by being in the front row.  The best thing is being able to sit down if you want to.

To make matters worse, we are both short and feared that people from seats further back would crowd around the stage and we wouldn’t be able to see.  But we began to recognize and be recognized by the artist’s security so that was never problem. On several occasions people blocking our view were moved back to their seats.

I still have that “front row guarantee” T-shirt and many amazing memories that will always remind me of one of the best times of my life.  We also have an extra memento.  Our writing club awarded us a “trophy” for best use of procrastination under the guise of research.

We Go All In.

Between the two of us, my partner and have 40+ masks. We’ve collected them since March starting with two a friend sweetly dropped off to us. She knew we didn’t have any so she asked her mom to make them. Soon we heard that masks have to be washed after each use—we needed more. That was fine, since information was changing about which material and what thickness worked best. Ultimately, we began searching out masks we simply liked.

One could say we have a tendency to go all in.

Nothing like the sound of music on vinyl.

When we decide to embark on a new exercise plan, we buy all the equipment we could possibly need and new outfits. (You can’t exercise without the right clothes, right?) One weekend we watched The Blacklist with James Spader, fell in love, and bought every movie he’d ever made. We watched The Masked Singer and rushed to iTunes to buy Jesse McCartney’s live albums. Many years ago, I saw Prince in concert and IMMEDIATELY had to have his entire catalogue. Then I had to find everything in multiple formats and collect every magazine that had him on the cover. We all know where things went from there.

We do have fun, from time to time, putting all our energy into something. The only downside is that sometimes, looking back on our quests, we wonder things like, “NOW what do we do with this stuff?”

What kinds of things tempt you to go all in?

A Concert to Remember: Sir Tom Jones

It should be no surprise to those who know me that I go to as many concerts as I can. Even in the wake of the passing of the One and Only (Prince), I still have an appetite for good music and talented musicians. When I had the opportunity to see Tom Jones in concert, I knew I had to do it.

I was just a kid when he was on TV, but I remember watching his variety show with my mother. She, like many women in her day, was entirely smitten by him. Not only could the man sing, but he could Move. That's Move, with a capital M. Move in the way that, even just watching, your body remembers. Yeah, my mother would have been one to toss her bra and panties on stage if she'd gone to a show. (They don't still do that, by the way. I wish they did. I probably would have joined in.)

Today, Sir Tom is 78. It would be untrue to say that he is sexy for a man of his age. He is gorgeous and sexy for ANY age! The salt and pepper hair and beard, that freaking twinkle in his eyes...The man still has it. But when he started to sing, I nearly slid off of my seat. His voice is exquisite. It has always been extraordinary and it is still. Strong. Perfect. One of the songs he sang was Tower of Song, by Leonard Cohen. It is so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. Tower of Song.  He also did a slow, uber sexy version of his hit, Sex Bomb. Sexy with a capital S. Sexy in the way that even just listening, your body remembers--Listen for yourself::Sex Bomb on YouTube

Unfortunately, the Foxwoods audience wasn't well-behaved enough for me to completely immerse myself in the music. The group of entitled, middle-aged beer drinkers sitting right in front of me (six deep, men and women) were loud, continually in and out of their seats getting--guess what--more beer. When they weren't shouting to each other or drinking, they were on their phones or drunkenly begging my friend to dance with them. I guess I looked too irritated to bother asking.

Sir Tom sang and played with the audience for a full two hours, no break. When he broke into his fast hits like  Delilah, What's New Pussycat?, She's a Lady and It's Not Unusual, the crowd went wild. So did I.

And its no wonder. Guess when he was born? June 7th.Same day as Prince.

Ladies and gentlemen, there are no coincidences.

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