Brownstonelit's Blog

1/17/11

There is a quiet gray that has seeped across the sky, portent of storm and yet still calm within its edifice… I can feel the build of pressure behind the clouds in my veins. Change it whispers…change is all around you. Be aware- be aware. Information is on its way!!! Gut wrenching. Life changing… blood curdling change. Dark- dark. Be aware. Be cautious… do not tempt the dark side. Walk into the light and stay firm in your resolutions.
Justice. Justice for those who wait with baited breath at my every word.

I continue to pray for guidance in this matter. There are new things being shown that give me great pause. Recently, R passed through Valdosta and as she did so… she was shown G. Again, G stood with open palms filled with loose diamonds, with the exception of one stone- a red ruby. Metaphorical? No… I don’t believe so. So here we have a repeated impression.

Precious gems are a currency, generally untraceable… but an unusual commodity for such a small burg like Valdosta. Who then would trade in such tender? Not the common town fodder- not its nefarious and bucolic royalty. They are but pseudo Southern aristocrat and not international trend setters… so who? Or perhaps the better reason…why?

In order to look more clearly and divine the intent and indeed, the origination of such tender- we must look again with fresh eye at the key players in this scenario. Politicians, those affiliated with the law and the law itself. Now do not frown with trepidation that I am making more assumption than fact, for the illustrious Sheriff was indeed incarcerated and died in prison and others shared his same path. This is not a matter of speculation- but mere observation as segue my dear readers. Now, if said Sheriff was corrupt… do you really believe that the rest of such was pure as the driven snow. I mean… slush. No longer lily white, but tinged with different hues of gray indifference and the taint of blood stained dirt. Were they all corrupt? These men who held badges and postions of unchallenged power. Hmmmmm…good question. So many to choose from… so little to be certain of… as good, that is. You see there are several playgrounds that were being played upon.

You had the illegal numbers, pornography, gambling and the illegal moonshine industry- regular fair and then the illusive railways moonshine on trains that ran from Valdosta through the piney woods to Macon. Now the numbers 321 and 342 originally thought possibly to be mile posts, doesn’t quite fit with the distances between. However I have recently learned that the trains themselves came with numbers and so we must do our homework and talk to yardmen who have great intellectual and historical knowledge in such genres. And we shall move from there.

Who is the man who wears glasses? Whose name begins with the letter K? That has an association with Futch? Who knows Hazel and has dealings with the railroad- besides the other RR man who was there at her house that night when they told her of Charley??

So many questions still to be asked… still to be answered. And yet I know that the mystery of what will happen is already buried within the clues and intuitions that have been given to me.

How do I know this to be true?

Because, well over a year and a half ago I picked the perfect working title. Because well over a year and a half ago I vomited my first 7 chapters of where I thought this story would go without merit background or research. Because even before my meeting with R… I knew. Because even before reading every letter and news print article…I saw it in my mind. Because even before I spoke to the first witness…I heard his words. Because even my dear friends before I spoke with Julie about what she remembered of that very night… I felt it.

So even before having any knowledge of its truth; I had unwittingly written the key to the mother-load of information within the first page of said draft- and had no idea I had, until a year and a half later when I found out I was right… did I know with absolute certainty I was right.

Of course I cannot tell you what it is I found…out. That would spoil the story and this has gotten o be such a good story my dear readers. Murder, intrigue, sex, guilt, love, greed, shame, regret and finally… REVENGE.

Historical fiction?
Historical, yes.
Fiction? Hmmmmm… even I am not this imaginative!

So, shall we call this sort of writing intuition… or simply channeling?
When at least you can read the book…first draft and all… I’ll let you decide.
Until later then- think about the one red ruby amongst the diamonds in the rough.

This entry was posted on January 17, 2011 at 4:34 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.