BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

In the 1986 Michael Mann film, Manhunter, based on Thomas Harris’ novel Red Dragon, there is a scene where a sting operation is being set up and one of the FBI agents says to Investigator Will Graham, “Let’s walk the route…” Basically, the idea was for them to walk the path Graham would be taking during the sting in order that he be familiar with it and hopefully not get himself killed.

Well, I walked the route last night… Not the route Will Graham (William Petersen) walked in the movie…No, I walked the route Special Agent Constance Mandalay walked in the last pages of The End Of Desire. I’ll try not to give away too much, as I know some readers of my blog have yet to get their hands on TEOD, and are hoping it will be in their Yule stocking (Good luck to you on that – I’m pulling for you!)… Suffice it to say, I “walked the route.”

The Saint Louis Zoo does in fact have a special light display every year at this time. It is called “Wild Lights”. And, each year as a family we go there, pay our modest admission, and wander around the zoo in the dark looking at all the wonderous displays. Hence, the reason (with some minor name changes) it was featured as part of the climax in The End Of Desire.

Anyway, last night was our annual pilgrimage, and it was the first time I had been back to the display since writing TEOD (naturally). So, I walked Mandalay’s route…There was a crowd of folks, as usual, enjoying hot chocolate and the various light displays…But, for me, it was like moving slowly through a dream. The fictional scene replayed in my head, projecting itself onto the canvas of reality before me. Non-existent players in this world were suddenly very tangible, if only to my eyes and no one else’s.

For a scant 30 minutes, fiction became reality in my own personal world.

It was, to say the least, an interesting experience… Of course, we know that my characters talk to me all the time, so I suppose I should have expected it.

Yeah, I’m pretty disturbed. But we already knew that, didn’t we? 

More to come…

Murv

…Geriatric Fetish Dominatrix Hooker.

Yeah, that got your attention, didn’t it? And, no, it’s not just a ploy to get you to read this blog. Well, not entirely, anyway (wink wink, nudge nudge).

So, what am I babbling about?

Well, you see, about a week ago I was in New Orleans to attend, and support, my good friend Dorothy Morrison’s book release for Utterly Wicked: Curses, Hexes, and Other Unsavory Notions. Now, a book release is a big deal. It is a party where the book is first rolled out and made available for purchase, usually a week or so prior to the official “street date” set by the publisher. So, Dorothy arranged for her release party to be in NOLA–in the French Quarter, in fact, at a wonderful store on Dumaine called Esoterica. Mimi, the owner, had her annual soiree in conjunction with it, that way there was a really huge party with Champagne, Caviar, and tons of other food & drink. A host of wonderful folks attended, all decked out in Witchy costumes, from downright scary to, dare I say it, sexy.

This is where the Geriatric Fetish Dominatrix Hooker comes in…

The thing is, Morrison wanted this to be a big deal (which it was) and since the title of the book is Utterly Wicked, well…ummm…Okay, let me break it down-

Morrison, as I have explained before, is OLDER THAN DIRT. I doubt I need to provide the calculation here again, but suffice it to say she is what you’d call Geriatric. So, anyway, she plans out this whole outfit for the release. Imagine if you will, Dorothy Morrison decked out as follows:

Black silk peasant blouse with lace cuffs, black satin boned corset, black leather miniskirt, black fishnet stockings, black Steve Madden boots (ostensibly named “The Sergeant” because they are patterned somewhat after combat boots- but, only in that they are made of both canvas and patent leather, and lace up in the front) with 5 inch stiletto heels, and a black hat with a lace thingamajig hanging down her back.

Yeah…Like I said… Geriatric Fetish Dominatrix Hooker. All she needed was a cat ‘o nine to complete the ensemble.

Anyway, she got herself all decked out in this getup, then pranced through the quarter, a walk spanning about 10 blocks from the St. Louis Hotel down to Mimi’s shop. Horns were honking, there were catcalls, whistles, near collisions from people craning their necks, and even a few disapproving stares from the hotel staff. (I think maybe they thought I’d been keeping a hooker in my room)

I know there are pictures because flashes were going off all night. Hopefully some will get emailed to me so I can show you this getup, because I’m not kidding.

However, geriatric or not, I have to admit that Morrison looked sharp and definitely had it going on. Hell, when she was getting ogled as we walked down the street I just couldn’t help myself- I told all of the panting guys to back off, because I had already paid her and secured her services for the evening.

More to come…

Murv