What do a prostitute, an abused child, a disillusioned minister, a Vietnam Vet and a homosexual have in common? These and many others find their lives changed when they meet Storm and his companion, an amethyst-eyed dog named Maggie.
As you follow Storm on his journey to discover his true identity, you will meet many of society’s forgotten people. You will laugh, cry and get angry—whatever the emotion, you will feel deeply.
When Storm realizes who he is and why he is here, the world is completely changed and not one soul remains untouched. Upon closing the covers of this book, you will see the world around you in a far different light and find yourself wondering—is it really fiction?
*****
I would never bet on this newspaperman to ask any brilliant questions in an interview. I would be like the idiot who was interviewing Monica Lewinsky the day after the BC scandal broke,and probably ask what color lip-gloss she wore.
However,I had an opportunity to interview a new writing celebrity,Ms Joyce A. Anthony,from Erie,Pa.
Anthony has written a book that will makes us want to examine our life and take it's measure.


Jay:
"Ms Anthony,I'm wondering about your background.What was it about your early hometown environment that nurtured your desire to become a writer?

Anthony:
I think what was most influential was getting my first library card when I turned eight. From that moment on, I was at the libarry almost every day--it was an old Victorian-style building with a spiral staircase--and books!! I fell in love with the written word and started wishing I could one day write one.

Jay:
What are your favorite books from your childhood, and why are they special to you?

Anthony:
The two books I remember most from my early years are Opalina and The House of Stairs. I read both over and over again. Opalina caught my interest because the cat told stories from many generations of the same family, and it gave me a sense of how the past influences today. The House of Stairs was my first glimpse into Psychology.

Jay:
You seem very fond of rainbows. Do you feel magic in the air when you see one?

Anthony:
I think the biggest thing I feel when I see a rainbow is a sense that all will be okay. No matter what is going on, a rainbow fills me with hope that tomorrow will indeed be better.

Jay:
Can you tell me something you consider very important if you were writing your biography?

Anthony:
More than any one event, I believe what is important to show is that a person can experience a multitude of events that supposedly ruin a life--and yet that person can not only survive, but thrive and grow and rise above the pain. Our pasts play a part in who we become, but the negative need not remain that way--it can be changed and create something good in the end--it is a matter of a strong will and wish to do better.

Jay:
What was the germ of the idea that sparked your desire to write Storm? Was that early in your life, or later?

Anthony:
The actual idea started close to twenty years ago with a glimpse of a man through a car window. A question formed in my mind as I looked at him and the seed was planted. Over the years, other tiny events, often a mere thought or word added to the original question--and Storm grew.

Jay:
How has writing shaped your concerns for human affairs such as hunger and poverty in America?

Anthony:
It is more the other way around--my concern for the human condition has fueled my writing. I feel my words are a gift from a higher source and I am meant to use them in a way that does honor to that gift. I grew up in a world full of those that society looks down upon or overlooks completely and my words are designed to help those people--to make the world notice and care.

Jay;
Ms Anthony,thank you for sharing Storm with all the World.

Be Quick,or Be Dead !

"Oh Lord, Sonora!
That's where it all began. I still get all misty-eyed when the little ones gather around me of an evening and say,"Grandpa,tell us about the way it was in Sonora that day.""Heh heh! You wanna hear it again,do you? Well,Pa, that be your great-grandpa, was just home from the war.It had been a powerful struggle up there in Pennsylvania,but it finally ended at that place called Point Lookout,Maryland. Pa had been captured at Appomattox just six days before Uncle Bob surrendered. Pa come home a mess.That Federal prison in Maryland was the curse of many a poor Confederate.Terrible living conditions.Not much to eat, and precious little medical care,or none at all. Why ,pa was a mess when he gotback to Sonora.Took a long time for me to nurse him back to health,what with all the rot and gangrene that had set in,but I did it all myself,me and thegood Lord, and a bunch of herbs Pa had told me about. Poultices and such,mostly.After he rested a few weeks and the healing was mostly done,hecommenced teaching me the arts of war, and gun-fighting with a six-gunmostly. Pa was a real pistoleer. Trouble was,he run out of bullets during the war.

I was just fifteen when pa up and died on me one hot,spring day.ThereI was, all alone in the meanest country you ever did see. Sonora was a beautiful place,but it was like living in a dusty hell most of thetime.Bad people drifting around to see what they could take if need be.I wasn't worried none though, for pa had taught me well.Folks said Iwas like a Texas whirlwind with a six-gun. Many was the time I had braced a pair of ducks flying North on the March breeze.I seen the dust a swirling around them shimmering figures a mile away.I knew trouble was brewing on that hot,Texas wind.Three of them best I could tell,what with all the dust the big black horses were throwing up.I was a mite worried.If they could get me with the sun in my eyes I knew I was gonna be in a mighty bad way real quick.I figured the odds was at least fifty-fifty,but ya never can tell what a man with a gun is apt to do..Three of them, and one of me, was about the same odds pa said it was at Gettysburg.I grabbed the frazzled old well rope and pulled up a bucket of that cool water so as to wash away the dust from my mouth.They kept a coming.

I pulled the pistol from my left holster and spun the cylinder one more time to be sure all five rounds were stillthere.I took another sip of that cool water, and then I drew my Navy Dragoon Colt and spun the cylinder on it."

"Grandpa,why did you only have five bullets in your pistols if'n they was six-shooters?"

"That was so's you wouldn't shoot your darn foot off if the gun was to fire accidental like.You never leave a round in the chamber."

Now,back to my story!

"I gently slid the Colt back in the holster, and then I nudged each pistol just a mite to free 'em up,make sure they would come out cleanand fast when I put my hands on them to begin my work in earnest.Pa always called it work. That's what General Lee, and GeneralLongstreet, called it. Pa picked up an education whilst he was withthem two fellows. I never told you all this part of the story,butGeneral Longstreet was the one taught pa to count. Yessir! A realmath whiz was General Longstreet. Why ,many was the time GeneralLongstreet would say,'General,' he was talking to General Leehere, 'General,the Yankees out number us again by three to one,'andGeneral Lee would always say,'well, that makes it about even ,don'tit General Longstreet'?"I could see their grimy faces clearly now in the midst of thebillowing dust.The biggest man was in the middle. He held his chestup high in the saddle. I knew from the steel in his eyes that I hadto kill him first. That ain't the way I wanted it.A man always needsthe odds in his favor on account of the unexpected,but sometimes itjust don't work out the way you plan.That's where luck comes in to play.The big mans horse stumbled on a rock just as he went to draw. Thatsplit-second was all I needed to do what pa had taught me so well.The pistol in my right palm was already barking,five rolling claps ofthunder split the silence of the desert morning before I evenrealized I was shooting.That's the way pa had taught me to shoot in a gunfight.Right toleft.Shoot the man on your right side first, and then move from rightto left.All three were knocked from the saddle by the heavy forty-four slugs. They hit the ground with a loud thud and a cloud of dust,as the terrifiedhorses reared in fright.It was still early morning,but darkness seemed to be closing in around me.
I stumbled forward to examine the corpses, but of a sudden I seemed to be in a darkest tunnel. My feet wouldn't move.I felt a stabbing pain in my ribs..."

To be continued...

I'm sorry about all the run-ons ,but google is driving me crazy tonight.

Oprah,Suze Orman Rides Again,Carnie Wilson Eats

Oprah, I don't know if you are watching public television much right now,what with all the hoopla about you being on that RICH whitemans list of BILLIONAIRES.

I've been watching the fundraising programs plenty. I love public televison when they are raising money.

Your friend,Suze Orman, is on there again hyping all her money-type books. I think she's wearing the same old clothes she wore last year. I don't take her money advice.Anybody who could afford to go to business school and get an MBA is not short of money.

She was on a few days ago, waving her arms,and flashing her eyes.She uses a lot of handsignals for some reason.

I expected her to fly right off the stage any minute,but she didn't.

I never listen to any of her financial advice. I just watch to see if she changes her clothes from year-to-year.Seems like the same old cape to me.If somebody was to snatch that thing from her,she wouldn't be able to perform her act.

I was surfing eBay for books,in the self-help section, I think. I saw one by Carnie Wilson.

I'm Still Hungry! Me too,Carnie. Want a piece of my butterscotch?

Oprah,I hope you have Carnie on your show more often. She's good people.

I have to drink a Pepsi now. I'll talk to ya later when we have more time together.

Jay Hudson

Jay's Writer's World