The Fezziwig News by Stu Jenks

...The first draft of the novel is done!!!...

The first draft of the novel is done!!! It came in at 149,000 words, 552 pages in my document. Yeaaaa! I can't tell you how good it feels. The ending made me cry, as I hope it does you. (Last word in the novel, which won't change in revision: Sighs.) I want to jump right back to the beginning and start revisions, but Mary Ann suggests I take more than just a couple days off. OK. I'll take off three or four days. LOL. But then it's fixing this and revising that, then off to the editors. And I have ideas for the next novel in this series, too. I have some pretty great characters, I think, and I want to see what they will do next. But first things first. Get this novel to print.

One serious note: It took about a year to write this novel, but it almost didn't get done. With Mary and Pamela dying and all, I didn't work on it for about six weeks and it was so hard to get my momentum back. But I did. But it was difficult. If you are working on a novel or a large work, I recommend you plow through, even if the field is frozen. I've been told I'm very lucky to have gotten back on track.

Speaking of track, good luck to Danica Patrick tomorrow in the Daytona 500 and in the rest of Sprint Cup and Nationwide races this season. I might just have to go up to PHX next Saturday to watch her race.

By the way, did I mention I finished the freaking first draft of the novel?

Yeaaaaaaaaa!

Now available, on the Apple IPad: The Transpersonal Papers (1861-2010) and Bozo In Love

Been a long time coming for The Transpersonal Papers (1861-2010).

Three editors, two proofreaders, two designers, four printers, and hours, days, weeks, months, years, lifetimes, (I know I'm overstating), of writing, traveling, shooting, editing, remembering, hiking, and more writing, shooting, and editing, but I'm not complaining. No, no, no.

And apologies for not having the dough right now, to print The Transpersonal Papers as a coffee-table book as I had originally planned. ($10,000, it would have cost. Maybe someday.) But you now can buy it, for $14.95, as an Ebook on the Apple IPad, and I expect it to be available within a couple days on the Nook and the Kindle as well.

I just looked at it on my new IPad. The photos, text and design look grand.

And as an extra surprise, Bozo In Love is now up on IBooks too, ($9.95), as well as the rest of my catalog: Flame Spirals, Hoop Dancing, and Dementia Blues, on IBooks, Nook and Kindle.

Just in time for Christmas.

And don't worry. All but The Transpersonal Papers can still be bought as a book book through Fezziwig Press. I have plenty. Just go to www.fezziwigpressonline.com, for the hardbounds and paperbacks, but go to ITunes, today, (and Kindle and Nook, soon) for the ebooks.

Heavy sigh from my third story apartment balcony. I look out onto the Tucson city lights in the valley below. Cold, dry air embraces me. I inhale deeply. Exhale.

A very good night in the desert.

Think I'll make a cup of coffee with egg nog and play some Angry Birds on my new IPad.

Time to celebrate.

 

"Manns Chapel, Chatham County, North Carolina"

"Manns Chapel, Chatham County, North Carolina" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

Off to Raleigh tomorrow, one last time. (I've taken the 12:45 Delta from Tucson to Atlanta so many times in the past few months, I expect the flight attendents to say "Hello, Mr. Jenks. How are you?")

I'm renting a Penske truck on Tuesday, loading up the last of Pamela's things to bring them here to Tucson (A nice blond-wood work table, a huge chest-of-drawers, Pamela's old single bed from when she was a kid, and Mama Lillie's secretary desk I inherited in 1983, but had no way to get it out here. And some Christmas presents my sister wrapped before she died. Sweet of her, eh?)

And on Wednesday, I am closing on the Amherst house. Very sad but not for the reasons you might think. Since my father and mother did no maintenance on the house at all, basically letting my sister live in an old damp, moldy house, rent-free, for 20 plus years, The Amherst House, which would have been worth $250,000 or more on the recovering real estate market of Raleigh is now being sold for $110,000, as a tear-down. The man who is buying the home says he's going to fix it up but I don't quite believe him. (He has made plans to cut down all the trees on the property. That sounds like a tear-down to me. The land is worth $100,000 so he's getting a piece-of-crap Cape Cod for $10,000.)

Speaking of trees, the one bugaboo left to do is I have to get rid of the firewood in the basement. Some nice people from Pamela's church in Raleigh have taken some of it, but I have to dispose of the rest, before closing on Wednesday. I'm hoping the Wake County dump will take the logs but they may not. No one on Craiglist wants them, and that poor church in South Raleigh can't use them either. So I may just have to take the firewood back to the woods, unloading it along a nice piece of river.

I kind of hope I get arrested.

"Stu Jenks, artist and photographer from Tucson, Arizona, was arrested today for putting wood back into the woods. Reports are that Jenks laughed hysterically as the sheriff slapped on the handcuffs. It is uncertain if he was intoxicated at the time."

So I'll be away for about ten days. I'm taking my Rollei with me and some Christmas lights too, to perhaps do some hoop dancing photography in the moonlight. I am driving across some pretty country, don't you know? And if you want to buy the image rights of something, or a hardbound book, you'll have to wait until I get home. Then again, some of my books are on the IPad now. Hint, hint. But no worries. Just letting you all know I'll gone for a while.

OK. I should stop writing now. I really should. I really really should. But I'm not.

On a book note, I am writing a conclusion to Dementia Blues, called Dementia Red, telling the stories of Pamela and Mary Jenks' last days and weeks. With photos too.

And to those of you in Virginia who needed to ambush me at my sister and mother's burials, to tell me how you didn't like Dementia Blues (You know who you are), I guess you forgot I make a very small living writing things as well as photographing things. And eventhough I'm getting a little demented now myself, my memory is still pretty good. I'll be changing your names and the places in Dementia Red, but I won't be changing your words.

Oh, and shame on you for what you did to me, that rainy afternoon, and shame on you for what you did to my mother, three years ago.

Shame.

And as one of you jerks mockingly said to me that day in The Northern Neck,

"Oh, Stu, you aren't suffering financially."

Yea, I am. In a few ways, financials just being one.

I'm not getting much cash from these two estates. Pamela didn't have a pot to piss in, nor a window to throw it out of, and we had almost gone through all of Mary's money taking care of her here in Tucson before she died, with the expensive adult care home and all.

But I am grateful that there is some cash in the estates and in the sale of the Raleigh House; to pay all the heirs and debts of my mother (but sadly, many of Pamela's hospital bills will go unpaid); to pay for two nice gravestones for my mother and sister; to pay for the plane tickets and motels and the Penske truck and the rental cars these past few months; to pay for the storage locker here in Tucson; to have a little to give to some people who are in need; and to have some cash for me to get out of credit card debt at the end of all this; but I am not getting rich off of the death of my family.

So, to you Rich White Trash in Virginia, two words. Fuck you.

And even though I don't miss my mother very much, I do miss Pamela a lot. I feel a lot of compassion for her journey through life. She never got away from my crazy family. I did. And Pamela died way ahead of her time. Sure, she shares responsibility for her life, but my mother, on numerous occasions, told my sister, "...you aren't pretty enough to ever get married, Pam..."

Pamela was over 200 pounds when she died, and she never married.

Be careful what you say to your children. One hurtful statement probably won't fuck them up. A couple dozen times probably will.

I miss you Sis. Thanks for being a nicer person the last six months of your life. I truly wish I could call you on the phone and tell you what those horrible people at Mary's old church said to me after I buried you all. I wish I could say, "You were right, Pamela. You were so right."

And I do believe I feel your spirit these days, but it isn't the same as hearing you cuss like a sailor and hearing you laugh like a crazy person. I miss that.

Big hug and kiss, Pamela. Know that I love you. I hope I'm doing right by you.

And Mary, may the light of God always shine on you. I feel blessed that your dementia made you into a sweeter Mom. Mostly. And most people are loving you in Dementia Blues. You are a bit of a superstar, Mom.

OK, enough jokes and resentments. I need to finish packing.

See you all when I get home, and maybe I'll see a few of you on the road.

Look for a small Penske truck with firewood falling out its back and the police chasing it.

That'll be me.

The Funerals for Mary Saum Jenks (and a film for Pamela Jenks)

The Funerals For Mary Saum Jenks (and a film for Pamela Jenks)

Images: "Broken Lock, Bynam, North Carolina", "Maundy Thursday Hoop Dance, Grace St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Tucson, Arizona" & "Mary Jenks' Last Five Days, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

The dates have been set. Mary Jenk's' first funeral will be on Saturday, July 30th, 2011 at 2 p.m. at Grace St. Paul's Episcopal Church at 2331 E. Adams, Tucson, Arizona. (The church is one block south of The Arizona Inn.) The service has been designed to not only bid farewell to my mother Mary, but also to allow all who attend to have the opportunity to grieve whatever losses they may have. I've personally chosen the music, hymns, creeds, and prayers, to not only reflect my mother's religious beliefs but my own spiritual values as well. Please come. A reception will be held afterwards in the Parish Hall adjacent to the church.

Also, on Saturday, September 17th, 2011 at 2 p.m. at St. Mary's Whitechapel on 5490 Whitechapel Road near Lancaster, Virginia, a second service will be performed for Mary Jenks. This will be a more traditional service. Also, at this service, both my mother Mary's and my sister Pamela's ashes will be buried at the Jenks family plot behind the Chapel. Those in the Virginia/North Carolina area may wish to attend this service.

Hope to see y'all at either of these two services.

At the botton of this post is the last image I took of Mary alive. It is an unpleasant image but I worked hard to make it less harsh. Mom never minded having pictures taken of her by me, in her final years of life. (see 'Dementia Blues'). She rather liked all the attention and she did love her son. I'll write more about Mary's death, but not now. Let's just say I was there when Mary died. It was very sad. I told her I loved her as she took her last breath. Truly, much like with my sister Pamela, Death was a blessing. Neither women now suffer.

And today, the last Harry Potter film came out. My sister Pamela was a huge fan of Rowlings' books and she was trying to stay alive long enough to see the film. She did not make it. I am profoundly sad about this, for she would have been at an early showing today. Tomorrow I will attend Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallow, Part Two in her honor. Perhaps, just perhaps, her spirit will take a seat next to mine.

"Mono Lake Hoop Dances" (and some news of Mary Jenks)

"Mono Lake Hoop Dance, California" (c) Stu Jenks & Shawn Peterson 2011

The top image is mine, the second image, Shawn Peterson's. We both shot the same hoop dance at the same time: my image a bit longer exposure using my Rollei, Shawn shooting with his Canon 5D Mark II. I can't tell you how joyous that shoot was, that night, just three weeks ago. Shawn and I and the others on the pumice field near Mono Lake, laughed and shoot and had just the best time. And each image of these two images has its own magic: mine, a bit warmer and with more contrast, Shawn's, cooler in color with more shadow detail. An excellent example of how we each may look at the same time but we all see things through our own eyes.

And a lot has happened in the last three weeks. Pamela died of metastatic breast cancer two weeks ago and it appears Mary is finally succuming to her dementia. She hasn't eaten in two days, can now longer swallow and drifts in and out of consciousness. I'm gettin ready to go over to Crossroads in a hour or so. We may have to up the morphine a bit for Mary is now in some pain. Once every 4 hours may not be enough to keep her confortable. The little water sponges on sticks really helps with keeping her mouth moist though.

And there will be two funerals for Mary Jenks, one here in Tucsson at Grace St. Paul's Episcopal Church and one at St. Mary's Whitechapel in Lively, Virginia. The service here is for all who knew Mary, of course, but mostly, it's for those of you who want to come to give me a hug. And I've prepared quite a little service for Mary, with some live harmonium music by me, a few touching songs that I love, and a good number of hymms Mary loves as well. (The service at St. Mary's Whitechapel will be more traditional Episcopalian. And both Pamela and Mary will be buried at the same time, or so it seems.)

Mary could rallies like she has done a half dozen times over the last two years, but I don't think so. This looks, feels and smells different. Mary appears to be doing the hard work of dying now.

And feel free and continue to send your love, via my Facebook page. I've told Mary that a lot of my friends are praying for her. Understandably, it doesn't seem to mean much to her now, but it means a lot to me. Thanks for all the love and compassion that you are giving to my family and I.

I truly do feel it.

Love, light & luck,

Stu

p.s. I found out that Mary fell from her wheelchair and broke her hip, two hours after Pamela had died. She didn't know Pamela was dead at that point, or did she? I can feel Pamela's spirit around some and she seems to be with our mother when I enter Mary's bedroom now. All the old angers have fallen away from Pamela. Pamela simply glows now. It's nice. She seems to be holding Mary's hand as much as I. Call me crazy if you like, but Pamela is around. Happy to have her on the job. And all of you as well.

"The Ghost Of Christmas Present in Arizona"

"The Ghost Of Christmas Present in Arizona" (c) Christmas, 2009, 2010 Stu Jenks. Read by the author.

Merry Christmas and Happy Winter Solstice to y'all. Here's a little audio gift to my StuBlog pals and my Facebook friends. Hope you enjoy this little audio ditty, and may Happiness, Joy and Peace find you full of Nog and Roast Beast, this holiday season.

 

Ghost of Christmas Present,

 

 

"Vortex at Cathedral Rock"

"Vortex at Cathedral Rock, Sedona, Arizona" (c) 2010 Stu Jenks

    Those of you who have read my essays over the years may think I’m a very Woo Woo kind of guy. Sometimes I talk to trees and I hear their voices. On occasion, I feel the presence of dead relatives and even hear them speak. I’ve had spontaneous visions of past lives. I pray often throughout the day and quiet my mind through short yet powerful meditations. My visits into the nocturnal desert shake my core in a Godly-sort-of-way. But I’m not nearly as Woo Woo as you might think.
    I don’t believe that I’m special in God’s eyes. I don’t magically believe that through my spiritual practices, harm will flee from me and light will always come. I’m just awake enough to avoid The Bad Guys. I don’t believe there is any Secret to prosperity. I believe success is a combination of hard work, good luck, what part of the planet you were born on, and what race, class and sex you happen to be. I don’t believe that I’m one of the Chosen Ones. I believe my closeness to God comes from my heart journeying into an often poor and despairing world, giving as I can, but not from any sense of religious entitlement from having sat on the lap of God or from a condescending pity for those less fortunate. It just feels good to give. I don’t believe that praying in a cathedral or making a stack of stones will cure me of cancer, cause my mother to not die a painful death, or bring back a past lover I still miss. I believe that Life is a wonderful, painful thing, and that prayer is about me getting right with The World, not God doing right by me.
    At one time, I thought God was a gumball machine: I put in the coin of prayer; I get back what I want. Those beliefs seem so much like those of a scared child now. I’m not in Spiritual High School yet (I’m still too much of a know-it-all.), but I do feel like I’m currently enrolled in God’s Middle School.
    But what does make me more Woo Woo than most is that I do believe if you go to a place, anyplace, be it a church in a square or a stream near a mountain, and you come with strong and focused intent to be closer to God, to Humans, and to All There Is, you will find a power of Love and Light there beyond what you would expect. You will be spiritually surprised. But it comes from the intent, not the place. Revelations can visit any of us at any time, whether we are surrounded by centuries-old stained glass at Notre Dame in Paris, or the weeks-old stench of piss and grease in the alley behind my favorite grill in Tucson.
    It’s about intent. Your desire to Give. Your willingness to Love. Your ability to Forgive.
    So stack your river stones high, metaphysicians of Sedona. Let the Woo Woo out. But know what you will most likely receive will be the knowledge that you are OK just the way you are. And from this new found wisdom, hopefully you will return to your loved ones in the village, bringing a grounded spiritual practice of Giving, Loving, and Forgiving.
    Chances are very slim that God/Goddess/All-There-Is will give you a million bucks.

    You’ll just feel like a million bucks.

MP3: "The Ghost of Christmas Present, in Arizona"

MP3: "The Ghost of Christmas Present, in Arizona"

Ghost of Christmas Present,

Happy Winter Solstice everyone!

Attached is a mp3 of me reading my little Holiday story, "The Ghost of Christmas Present, in Arizona." Hope you enjoy it and feel free and pass it around if you wish. Its running time is around 13 and a half minutes.

But I need to address a couple of things that some friends have asked and perhaps misunderstood. And yes, I'm running a terrible risk of explaining something I've written, which usually ends in weakening the piece, but I'll take that risk, so as to quell some confusion.

1) The Woman in the story and her troubles is not modeled after any one in particular, yet her physical traits are similar to a good friend of mine. The Woman's story, however, is not that friend's story. But at the same time, I know that I and many of you have experienced the same pain, hurt and disappointment that The Woman in my story has experienced. I choose a woman because, frankly, I think women get hurt more than men. But that is not to say that Good Men don't have their hearts broken, nor that bad parents have stepped hard on a good boy's soul, or that men don't feel the need to forgive, and open their hearts too. Of course they do. But women, sadly, in this world, have historically taken the brunt of abuse and neglect and violence, and just as sad, only small changes have occurred to help stop this in our Modern World.

2) The Ghost of Christmas Present, crafted by Charles Dickens, only lived for one night, and I made him into an immortal spirit instead. Dickens' work is public domain now, so I've broken no laws by taking one of his characters and expanding him to fit what I wanted to say. I love "A Christmas Carol" more than I can say, and I meant no disrespect by taking one of his greatest characters and placing him in an Arizona canyon.

3) Yes, the Old Man in Texas is modeled after someone I know. And I ain't telling who.

4) Yea, I suppose I am ripping off Tolkien a bit by having Old Mr. Alligator being an old soulful tree-being. But if you had seen those old trees in that canyon in the Sierra Anchas, you would have wondered if they were ents too.

5) And lastly, if I'm in the story as a character, I'm both the Blond Woman and the Ghost. And the forgiveness the Woman gave was from a pain I had, long long ago, in the Early 1990's. And my hope for myself, is that I become more like the Ghost of Christmas Present, in his compassion and free-flowing love and open-hearted-ness. I'm not there yet, but I'm trying.

I really hope you enjoy my little mp3. And by the way, there is an 'audio typo' in it, in which I said "The Ghost of Christmas Past" instead of "Present", but I left it in, since I liked my performance in that section so much, and I didn't think I could recreate it. See it as my Navajo Thread, that shows I'm far for prefect. And feel free and share this mp3, as you wish.

I wish all of you a Happy Solstice, a Merry Christmas, and a very Happy New Year.

Love and light,

Stu