Great Energy Shift? I don’t know, though we definitely need one

On January 9, 2016 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn writing8 Comments

“As we are heading into the Age of Aquarius, new energies are encompassing our bodies and are reflected in various physiological symptoms. Within this transition of the ages, many people will begin to feel many of these energy shift symptoms on a regular basis as our bodies are adjusting and upgrading to the higher frequencies.”

– from the Esoteric Metaphysical Spiritual Database

Is there really a great spiritual energy shift coming? I have no clue. I do know what there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of spiritual coaches, mentors, facilitators, teachers and writers spreading the word across the Internet that the shift is coming or has already begun and that they have the meditations, symbols, light language, breathing exercises, visualizations, and podcasts that will definitively place you on the right road to be part of it all.

I hope they are right.

newage The world’s a mess now. We’re hearing this from both ends of the political spectrum, from experts at think tanks and research centers, and from mainstream and alternative religious leaders.

Perhaps there is a great spiritual transformation on the horizon. Or, perhaps there isn’t, but soon will be because it will be created by all the people passionately telling us that a great change is coming. Maybe they are creating their own self-fulfilling prophecy, assuming they aren’t really the first to know a secret the rest of us don’t accept yet.

In the 1960s and 1970s there as a new age movement with a lot of talk about the Age of Aquarius, the Silva Method, Transcendental Meditation, making love not war, and many people were convinced “this was it” in the same way others were convinced years ago that World War I was the war to end all wars. But then life went on with the same old problems and a lot of the new age faithful slowly returned to logical, mainstream lifestyles.

I often think we’re attracted to new age ideas and books like “The Secret” because we’re looking for a spiritual quick fix. I don’t necessarily think the beliefs behind the former new age movement or the current spiritual shift movement are wrong. My own beliefs are by no means mainstream. I just think it’s hard to stay the course. One goes to a spiritual retreat and returns to the real world freshly energized and with a new sense of purpose and certainty. But in the face of what the rest of the world thinks, they have trouble maintaining that high, keeping up with the visualizations and meditations, and slowly slip back into the muck of a mainstream lifestyle.

Perhaps there are more seekers now. Perhaps they have more endurance and will persevere in spite of the fact that everything they see in their workplaces, in their communities and on the news is telling them quite strongly they’re wrong.

At my age, I no longer have youth’s passion to be a preacher for any belief system, much less advertise myself on line as a spiritual coach. In fact, if I did have the energy, I wouldn’t do it because–great energy shift or not–I see beliefs as very personal and not something to be sold or taught. You’ll find some of my beliefs echoed in the beliefs of the characters in my novels. That’s the best I can do. I didn’t get the memo about a great energy shift, so I’m not going to try to convince you there is one, much less sell you a course about how to ride the whirlwind.

Truth be told, I’ve always thought that–as well-intentioned as it may be–the missionary approach is misguided and arrogant. How can one say that his/her beliefs are better than the spiritual beliefs of another person or group? Perhaps I’m hiding behind my books. Hard to say. They are stories, though, rather than sermons.

My approach to spiritual ideas is that we all have the capability of discovering them for ourselves. I may be wrong about that, and since that’s possible, I won’t offer you a podcast or a DVD to bring you around to my way of thinking. If my novels and short stories suggest there’s something “out there” other than science, technology and doggedly earning a living, then I’m pleased. I don’t know any secrets to sell you, and that includes the real or imagined great energy shift.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of “Conjure Woman’s Cat,” The Sun Singer,” and “Sarabande.”

Website: http://www.conjurewomanscat.com/

Magnolia might help you keep your spouse at home

On January 7, 2016 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn conjure

If you live in the South, you’ve probably seen ancient magnolia trees in the woods all your life, and possibly you’ve stopped by a local nursery on more than a few occasions to add the dark green leaves and white flowers to your yard. In Florida where I grew up, we had the Southern Magnolia and the Sweetbay Magnolia. Your local native nursery is a good place to start, or if you want to know more about the tree in general, stop by the Magnolia Society International and take a look at their resources tab for practical information.

Sweetbay Magnolia - Wikipedia photo — Sweetbay Magnolia – Wikipedia photo

The society notes that there are more than 200 species of the shrub/tree which are found in ” temperate, subtropical and tropical areas of southeastern Asia, eastern North America, Central America, the Caribbean and parts of South America. Many are now grown worldwide because of their beautiful flowers, shape and form.”

Medical Uses

Like many plants, the bark and leaves of magnolias have been made into medicine. Purportedly, the magnolia has been used to combat indigestion, stress, headaches, stroke and other aliments–including toothache. I can’t speak to the safety or efficacy of any of these, though you can find a blurb about it on WebMD here.

In the conjure department

While researching my 2015 novella Conjure Woman’s Cat, I found that a lot of the plants I walked by in the Florida woods when I was young can be used for all sorts of magical purposes. For example, if you check out the web site of the Ritual Witch, you’ll find a section called Southern Magnolia Hoodoo. Oils, bath salts, candles and mojo bags with a magnolia flavor to them can ramp up your romance.

Or, if you have your own magnolia tree in the yard and want to make sure your spouse isn’t following his or her wandering eye, hide or sew some of the leaves into your mattress.

This is cheaper than hiring a private detective and supposedly stops any “oops moments” from happening. There are a few more graphic spells and mojo bags that I’ll leave to your imagination, most of which seem to be sought after by jealous wives–yes, that sounds sexist, but I’m just reporting facts from my research.

As Catherine Yronwode mentions in her very handy “Hoodoo, Herb and Root Magic Book,” Will Batts recorded a song back in 1933 that said he didn’t want a jealous women because she would “put somethin’ in the mattress, make you wish you was dead.” I have no experience with this, but why tempt fate?

Love magic and keeping your lover at home magic have always been a widely practiced area of conjure. Find a plant, and somebody has found a magical use for it. A quick Google search with the words “root doctor” or “conjure” in it along with the name of a plant or mineral will turn up more than most of us ever dreamt was out there.

Magnolia is more than a pretty flower it would seem.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of the novella “Conjure Woman’s Cat,” about a conjure woman who fights the KKK with folk magic and a very loyal cat.

Writers: How Tall Are You?

On January 3, 2016January 3, 2016 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn writing

“If you aren’t in over your head, how do you know how tall you are?

– T. S. Eliot

In his article in the January/February 2016 issue of Poets & Writers Magazine called “Project Empathy,” Lee Martin advises those writing memoirs to keep in mind that the words on the page will never be as real as the lives we have lived.

“We have to accept that fact and then forget it, so our subject matter won’t overwhelm us.” He goes on to suggest additional ways writers can approach difficult material…getting at emotionally charged issues through small details…letting the story tell itself without trying to say everything we feel about the horror of it or the joy of it.

In response to the quotation from Eliot, he says that “We should all feel as if we’re in over our heads when we write; that’s how we know we’re writing about something that really matters.”

If you have access to a library with a copy of Poets & Writers, I suggest reading this article whether you’re writing a memoir or writing a novel. I’ve often found the magazine available at Barnes & Noble stores.

When we think about how tall we are as writers, it doesn’t mean believing we’re taller than somebody famous. And when we think about writing about something that really matters, it doesn’t mean becoming full of ourselves because we are tackling an important subject of the day.

We do know what matters to us. We often avoid it, thinking who am I to write about this, thinking I can’t deal with this, thinking others have more dramatic stories to tell about this, and what this reminds me of are the lists of things we never want to talk about even with our loved ones or best friends. If you’ve known another person for a long time, you know what you cannot ask them because they refuse to discuss it. Maybe it’s something that happened in a war, the lost of a spouse or a child, a huge embarrassment at work.

If you have things you won’t talk about, they may be the stories you should be telling. Why? Because they’re important to you. Even in your silence, they have played a profound role in shaping your life. “Sooner or later,” writes Martin, “we have to face who we are in the world around us. We have to respond. We have to speak from the truest part of ourselves.”

When we respond–or, at least, try to respond–we find out how tall we are. A lot of us learn through the stories we read. We step into another person’s shoes and find out what it’s like to see what they have seen. What have you seen? Perhaps it will make a good story and perhaps it will resonate with the very people who need to hear it.

If you hurt while you’re writing it, you’re probably getting it right.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of “Conjure Woman’s Cat,” a story about racism and folk magic in northern Florida in the 1950s. The Kindle edition is on sale for 99 cents on January 6th.

‘Willing Spirits’ – Look, it’s free for three days

On January 1, 2016 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn books2 Comments

What a better way to kick off 2016: a free ghost story. My Kindle short story “Willing Spirits” is free on Amazon January 2-4, 2016.

Picture this: you’re a high school student living in a drafty old house in St. Louis during a winter snow story. The power goes out. You light a candle in hopes that its feeble, flickering light will be enough. You have a book report to finish and it’s due tomorrow.

The author of the book is dead. She used to be famous, a spirit from another time and place who came to St. Louis years ago to be contacted by Ouija board and trance to give readings and write a few critically acclaimed books that swept the country by storm.

Now there’s a ghostly presence in your cold bedroom. It doesn’t take you long to figure out why she is or that her help may be a mixed blessing.

I hope you enjoy the book.

–Malcolm

P.S. The St. Louis ghost in this short story is real. To learn more about Patience Worth, click here. If you know where to look, you can drive by the house where she appeared to medium Pearl Curran. Now, perhaps, she has returned–if you believe ghost stories.

It’s time for the WordPress annual report about what the heck happened here

On December 29, 2015 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn writing2 Comments

blogcollage According to the gurus at WordPress, two of my posts were hogging most of the visitors in 2105. One of them is two years old. This years’s favorite is Okay, who in my zip code is an Ashley Madison User? and the still-visited post from 2013 is The Bare-Bones Structure of a Fairy Tale. The first one I understand; as for the second one, I have no idea why there are so many hits.

You can see the entire report here: https://knightofswords.wordpress.com/2015/annual-report/

As you’ll notice if you read the report, a lot of you are still curious about Navy slang, but fewer of you are looking up stories about the White House Boys this year as stories about the Dozier School in Marianna, Florida haven’t been in the news as often. I probably will have little or nothing more to say about the aircraft carrier Ranger which the Navy, showing lack of sense, decided to scrap rather than turn into a museum. (I’m biased about this, I know.)

Guest Posts

This blog has always been open to guest posts from other writers, though I have to say I never really solicited them. If you’re an author and want to contribute a guest post of 500 to 750 words, send me an e-mail at malcolmrcampbell@yahoo.com with the words GUEST POST IDEA in the subject line.

I don’t run guest posts that are direct sales pitches to buy a person’s book. However, I will run an author’s picture and a book cover picture for anyone whose guest post runs in the blog. To see what I’m looking for, take a look at How to Write a Decent Guest Post on my Sun Singer’s Travels Blog. Then, if you want to try it out, send me an idea of what you want to say or send me the post itself to the e-mail address above.

Meanwhile, I’ve appreciated the 15,000 people who stopped by the blog this year. Best wishes for 2016.

Malcolm

Christmas is, perhaps, mostly for our children

On December 24, 2015 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Christmas4 Comments

Every generation has its best memories of Christmas. Those with yearly holiday family reunions probably have lifetimes of scattered Christmas memories on a mental mix-tape of humorous and Kodak moments from many past years. I have many great memories, many of which recall Christmases celebrated with my wife.

My sense of Christmas celebrations, though, comes from the magic of December 25th as my parents conjured the day on an always-tight budget. We almost always had a spruce tree in a corner of the living room. The ornaments on it had been collected for many years by my father and mother and their parents. Since our Christmas tree lights were often lent to the schools we attended, our tree about December 25th went up after the lights came home from school.

Gifts arriving by mail, or delivered from in-town friends, went under the tree whenever they showed up. Ultimately, my two brothers and I would put gifts we bought for family members there. Most of the gifts showed up sometime between bed time on the 24th and when we were allowed to see the tree on the 25th.

On Christmas morning, the living room was kept dark until after breakfast. I could have done well enough with a bowl of Frosted Flakes. Mother always wanted to serve a full breakfast because (a) that’s what her mother and/or home economics classes taught her to do, (b) she really believed we would go hungry waiting for Christmas dinner if we didn’t start the day full, (c) this gave everyone’s anticipation time to build.

Some families seem to ring a starting bell after which everyone dives under the tree and opens his or her own gifts without paying much attention to what the others are doing. I like our tradition better: we took turns opening gifts as my father handed them out one by one. He engineered the whole thing so that the most spectacular gifts were opened last.

It’s hard for me to visualize Christmas any other way. As I got older, I realized how much work it was for my parents to create the magic. It was mainly for my brothers and I. After one becomes a parent, the focus changes on buying for one’s children, grandchildren, and friends. When families live in different parts of the country, this includes buying gifts early enough to wrap and mail them in time for Christmas.

Now, we’re the ones trying to conjure the magic. We can’t really re-create the Christmases we had when we were kids, though I think those long-ago days probably influence what our children experience–without the 78rpm records and movies on video tape. We have to give a wink and a nod to progress without turning the day into a commercialized mess.

I grew up in Florida where we seldom saw snow. Even so, this is how I still see Christmas--perhaps because of that song we all know. — **I grew up in Florida where we seldom saw snow. Even so, this is how I still see Christmas–perhaps because of that song we all know.**

I have no idea what songs kids listen to during the holidays now. I see that many of our old favorites such as “White Christmas,” which first appeared in the movie “Holiday Inn,” have been re-recorded by numerous singers since 1942. I grew up with Bing Crosby’s version, so that’s the one I like to hear. In part, I visualize Christmas as it was in “Holiday Inn” and the subsequent movie “White Christmas.” All this was, so to speak, the “what-Christmas-is-like standard” I was born into.

Later generations may see Christmas as it was in “The Polar Express” with Tom Hanks or “A Wonderful Life” with Jimmy Stewart or “Scrooged” with Billy Murray. A lot of people remember the hymns they hear in church or the carols they sing in high school choral productions or when they go caroling. Maybe their memories include “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Snoopy’s Christmas.”

You probably have your “this is Christmas” favorites of holiday movies and sings. How many of them come from what you saw at the theater or heard on the radio when you were in primary and secondary school?

I never could imagine what my parents might have listened to when they were children; I’m sure our kids can’t imagine what we listened to when we were young even though they can now Google about anything and see what was popular year after year. No doubt, somebody, somewhere has written a doctoral dissertation showing what percentage of Christmas songs kids listen to are brand new and what percentage are classics. I’m not going to go and look that up for this post.

I admit I’ve played Diana Krall’s Christmas album a lot since it came out ten years ago. I like jazz, and she does just fine with a fresh look at old favorites. I doubt that today’s youth is concentrating on jazz, so their Christmases will probably be formed out of other memories while their children last year and this year and next year. I like Christmas, Winter, and snow, so my memories come from childhood filled with spruce trees and movies and songs created before I was born.

We conjure Christmas for our children and for others who are special to us. Our perspective has shifted from “what am I going to get” to “what am I going to give.” As we grow up, we begin to understand the magic from inside out.

–Malcolm

So far, I haven’t gotten any rainy day Christmas Cards

On December 21, 2015December 21, 2015 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Christmas9 Comments

Other than those photo-filled Christmas cards showing children or entire families posing with false smiles in the high grass over the septic tank, most of this year’s card show Santa, bright red cardinals in winter scenes, people hauling Christmas trees through the snow, and a variety of snowflakes and colored lights.

**This red does look a little bit Christmassy.**

None of them have rain in them. This proves, I think, that our current north Georgia complex rain event–as the weather service is calling it–is illegal. The rain started last night and will run through Friday with a chance of flooding along creeks and rivers.

Sure, we’ve decorated the house with colorful lights, garlands and wreathes, but somehow all that isn’t as festive as it could be if we had legal solstice weather. And that bright moon we’re supposed to have for Christmas? Right, it will be covered up by clouds.

So far, CNN isn’t calling this “breaking news” like everything else they show and that’s just got to be a conspiracy. If Donald Trump were doing a rain dance, CNN would be covering it live. But, apparently he isn’t. So, nobody’s looking into our rain, Christmas-wise or conspiracy-wise.

christmasweathermap Yeah, I know, the Grinch probably did it and, at the same time, appears to have given me a touch of the flu. It’s hard to feel merry when you’re swigging down TheraFlu.

But, far be it from me to rain on your Christmas and make you feel guilty for your great weather or your beautiful snow-covered yard with a redbird in the middle of if. Have a merry Christmas under star-spangled skies and a full moon. Enjoy the magic of it.

Truth be told, this still feels like a magical week to me in spite of all this water. The spirit of giving is a strong one, and I’m always inspired by memories of my younger days when I found unexpected surprises beneath the tree.

Happy Yule, Season’s Greetings, Merry Christmas, and Happy Solstice.

–Malcolm

Briefly noted: ‘Welcome to Night Vale’

On December 18, 2015 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Fantasy, reviews1 Comment

Welcome to Night Vale, by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, (Harper Perennial, October 2015), 416pp.

Look at how this book begins:

Pawnshops in Night Vale work like this.

First you need an item to pawn.

To get this, you need a lot of time behind you, years spent living and existing, until you’ve reached a point where you believe that you exist, and that a physical item exists, and that the concept of ownership exists, and that, improbable as all those are, these absurd beliefs line up in a way that results in you owning an item.

Good job. Nicely done.

I’m hooked already because this is something different, a unique way of getting this humorous contemporary fantasy underway, and–one hopes–as s/he reads further that the authors will be able to maintain the style and tone of their opening. They do.

From the Publisher

“Located in a nameless desert somewhere in the great American Southwest, Night Vale is a small town where ghosts, angels, aliens, and government conspiracies are all commonplace parts of everyday life. It is here that the lives of two women, with two mysteries, will converge.

“Nineteen-year-old Night Vale pawn shop owner Jackie Fierro is given a paper marked “KING CITY” by a mysterious man in a tan jacket holding a deer skin suitcase. Everything about him and his paper unsettles her, especially the fact that she can’t seem to get the paper to leave her hand, and that no one who meets this man can remember anything about him. Jackie is determined to uncover the mystery of King City and the man in the tan jacket before she herself unravels.”

We’re a not visiting the History Channel’s “Pawn Stars,” aren’t we? There’s no handy expert standing by a few minutes away who can drop by to analyze the item. Fink and Cranor have a jump start with this book, drawing from the popular “Welcome to Night Vale” podcast that The Guardian says is like a local news Twin Peaks.

From the Reviewers

Welcome to Night Vale has an average Amazon reviewer rating of 4.6 with 75% or the reviewers awarding it 5 stars.

Kirkus Reviews starred review sums up, I believe, the general view of professional reviewers: “All hail the glow cloud as the weird and wonderful town of Night Vale brings itself to fine literature…A delightfully bonkers media crossover that will make an incredible audiobook.” I think of Jim Butcher’s “Dresden Files” series as somewhat bonkers and Douglas Adams’ A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy as totally bonkers. I don’t think it’s heresy to say Welcome to Night Vale will remind readers of the best of each–in addition to the “Twin Peaks” thing. Oh, and a dash of “Twilight Zone.”

We’re a long way from Harry Potter. In fact, I’m not quite sure where we are. Cory Doctorow seems to know: “They’ve done the unthinkable: merged the high weirdness and intense drama of Night Vale to the pages of a novel that is even weirder, even more intense than the podcast.”

For my money, both “Twin Peaks” and “Lost” ultimately fell apart because the writers added so much weirdness that they had no place left to go. Fink and Cranor don’t let things get that far out of hand, and that’s good, because it would have been a real shame to let the promise of the opening lines become lost in, say, a dark Marx brothers/Three Stooges comedy.

If you enjoy a drink, pour yourself several fingers of something good, for Welcome to Night Vale is a delightfully bumpy ride.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of the contemporary fantasy novel “The Sun Singer” which is free on Kindle December 17-20, 2015.

I write magical realism so of course I’m superstitious

On December 16, 2015 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn magic4 Comments

A shark pursuing a ship means bad luck, especially if there are sick people on board.

Some say black cats bring good luck and some say they bring bad luck. (I opt for good.) - Wikipedia photo — Some say black cats bring good luck and some say they bring bad luck. (I opt for good.) – Wikipedia photo

A superstitious person sees the supernatural everywhere. As a superstitious person, I’m attuned to signs, omens and other hints that good or bad luck is about to follow unless I quickly change course. If I accidentally make a “wrong turn” while driving, I assume I was supposed to make that wrong term in order to avoid something bad on my regular route or to find something good on my new route.

During a brief time when I was the primary driver in a work car pool, my riders asked why I seldom drove to the office the same way twice. I gave them a throw-away answer: going the same way bores me. But I saw darker forces at work.

Don’t sweep dirt out the front door after the sun goes down or bad luck will come to your home.

I've never a talisman as ostentatious as the Talisman of Charlemagne. — **I’ve never carried a talisman as ostentatious as the Talisman of Charlemagne.**

When I was growing up, people my father’s age constantly asked me if I was Sir Malcolm Campbell, the famous British driving ace who broke many land and water speed records in his famous Bluebirds. I thought then that if I ever had a blue car, good luck would follow me if I named it “Bluebird”

In 1967, another Syracuse University student and I walked past a newsstand where the headline said DONALD CAMPBELL KILLED IN BLUEBIRD RECORD ATTEMPT. I don’t remember what I said, but my friend said “you look like you’ve seen a ghost: are you related?” Well, of course not, though if I ever had a son, I never would have named him Donald because the famous “Donald” was the famous “Malcolm’s” son.

If one has a realistic bad dream, the next morning breakfast must be eaten before the dream can be mentioned or discussed. Otherwise, the bad dream will come true.

**Some omens and signs are good. Mine are what work for me, so I love seeing black cars and ravens.**

I won’t say that when I wrote Conjure Woman’s Cat, I believed in all the spells, practices and good/bad luck admonitions of my main character. But, being superstitious, I could relate because magic and realism aren’t all that different in my panpsychism world view. A conjure woman might tell me to bore a hole in a Mercury dime, put it on a red string, and wear it around my ankle or neck for protection and good luck. I don’t go that far, but I do tend to save rocks, pieces of wood and other objects that seem “charged with power” when I find them.

If you start to go somewhere and come back for something you will have bad luck.

Nope, I don’t go along with that one. I assume that if I go back for something, I was supposed to go back either because, say, I left the stove on or forgot to lock the door, or, that if I hadn’t gone back, something bad would have happened at some place along the road. Seriously, I’m not obsessive/compulsive about this: if I were, I’d check the door locks and stove a dozen times before leaving the house.

Walking past a pole with someone it is bad luck to split up and each go around on different sides of it.

Those who know the pole omen know that saying “bread and butter” counteracts the bad luck. Some omens just don’t work for me, like “Drop a fork an a woman will show up.” I dropped a lot of forks in high school and college, and no women ever showed up. Omens and signs must pick “their kind of people” to have any impact.

In reality, I think the universe gives us signs we can each recognize, so I justify my superstitions by saying “this is my coded way” of seeing the world. Of course, that might be bullshit, but it works for me. And it also helps me write the kinds of stories I write. Kind of handy, that way.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it–mainly because not sticking to it brings bad luck and/or makes one look like they’re lying.

–Malcolm

Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of true stories that his publishers label as fantasy or magical realism.

PS – When you hang a horse shoe on the wall, never hang it facing down or all the luck will run out of it.

I wish I’d heard the blues at the Red Bird Cafe

On December 14, 2015December 14, 2015 By Malcolm R. CampbellIn Life2 Comments

Just across the main east-west thoroughfare from Florida State University in Tallahassee, Florida, sits the oldest black neighborhood in the state. Known as Frenchtown, the area was beginning to decline when I rode my bicycle on Macomb and Dean Streets delivering telegrams while in high school. Those older than me remembered the days when Frenchtown’s Red Bird Cafe was an important stop on the Chitlin’ Circuit, and they spoke fondly of the days when Cannonball Adderley and Ray Charles lived in the area and were famous along the streets for their music.

Red Bird Cafe - Florida Memory photo — **Red Bird Cafe – Florida Memory photo**

The yellow Western Union tag on my shirt identified me as a harbinger of death as surely as a black car in a military neighborhood. Perhaps it was that tag or perhaps it was luck, but I never ran into any trouble in Frenchtown even though most of my friends thought I was crazy to go there even though the job required it. I usually took bad news because that’s what telegrams were all about in Frenchtown. The recipients often made me open the yellow envelopes and read the messages at their front doors, and helplessly seeing their reactions and sometimes helping them compose a reply was–I think–my introduction to what it was like to feel the blues.

I wish I’d been more daring then, for I went to a Peter, Paul and Mary concert at FSU, but never went to the Red Bird other than to pedal past it on my bike. Surprisingly, I delivered–much to my embarrassment–more than one singing (usually “Happy Birthday”) telegram in Frenchtown where whole families and their neighbors gathered in the small yards to hear that poor, sweaty white boy sing. Who knows what would have happened if I’d ever had to sing such words at the front door of the Red Bird. Maybe somebody with an “axe” (guitar) would have emerged from the crowd and joined in. Never happened. But as I worked on my Conjure Woman’s Cat novella with its strong leaning toward the blues, I couldn’t help but think of Frenchtown and all the music there I never heard in the world where it lived.

If I owned a time machine, I’d get out the yellow Western Union tag that I “borrowed” from the company when I left, and I’d go back to the Red Bird and listen. In real life, all that music was at once so close and so far away.

–Malcolm

http://www.conjurewomanscat.com/