5/30/11
Back several weeks… maybe even a month or so ago I was told by both psychics that someone would crack. And they did. The information received confirmed several things for me; places, situations, new names- old names and again- this all after a feather had crossed my path. Oddly enough, a feather had crossed my path the day of the locution as well- so now you say- “What’s the hold up?”
That, my dear readers is a very fine question. What is the hold up? I sit here at my desk and look into those steely gray eyes of Charley’s and pose the same question. “What are you waiting for dear friend?”
So I must ponder…
What is left unanswered?
What is left undone or un-clarified?
What is left that is pseudo peripheral that cannot wait to be explored within the process of the book?
What is it that keeps the paragraphs from pouring?
Is it you Charley… is it me? Is there some great piece of information or evidence that will present itself soon? Or are you simply waiting for the author to find her voice?
I have always thought that this story would tell itself and in deed, once the ink begins to flow– it will simply bleed its way across each page. I think the crux of the matter here is- who will do the telling? Whose voice would be more compelling? His, in the life… or mine in his death? Now, not only as a writer does this become a most important question, but as a human as well, for this is Charley’s story- but in a real sense it has become mine too. But I do not want this to become another- middle aged woman finds herself saga- because this is not what this has been. Certainly a fair bit of self discovery has taken place, but it is more than that. Charley has done some remarkable work here. Think about the rarity of this. A dead man finds a psychic medium who is involved with helping an organization solve cold cases, and after I have written my sixth book- I write a book about a local- but very national unsolved civil rights case—and am asked to speak for said organization 2 weeks after this psychic medium tells the Criminal Justice students that they will receive new information from someone who bears the initial “J”- in quotation marks. Two weeks later, I read an excerpt from my book about a man who basically cyber stalked me to vet my researching methods and sent me info- which I authored in signature with the letter “J”- in quotation marks and viola! Two months later we meet and I ask for her help.
Two years later I sit at this desk and tell you I know what happened to Charley that night on the Clyattville- Nankin Road, and even more I know why. I’m sensing a pattern here… aren’t you?
Now, I can either tell it all or I can tell nothing; so whose sins do we share? So today, I throw down the gauntlet one more time and ask for your guidance Charley. I shall hold the pen, my dear, dear man… I shall begin to tell our story with whosever voice you feel will be strongest and we shall see were this next part of the journey takes us.
I shall look for a direct sign today…
Whose voice Charley? Yours, mine or ours?
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