Dave's Anatomy #118: My History as a Writer: “The Girl Who Was Like Ruby Tuesday."

The song “Ruby Tuesday” by the Rolling Stones always intrigued me. The Rolling Stones were known for high-energy bluesy songs. “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” were signature hits, but “Ruby Tuesday,” a song about an enigmatic girl with a unique philosophy of life, was slow and lyrical. You heard piano, bowed bass, and odd, haunting recorder that almost sounded like a human voice (played by Brian Jones). Those instruments, along with Charlie Watts’ drumming and Mick Jagger’s vocal, made the song as mysterious as the focus of the song, the woman with the odd name.

Many years later, when I was teaching about social commentary in popular music, one of the songs we examined in class was “Ruby Tuesday.” We talked about the personality of the main character of the song and her philosophy of life. This got me to thinking about what the projected character represented. What would such a woman, if one met her in real life, be like. 

Various stories exist about the composition of the song. Keith Richards claims to have written the music and lyrics (usually Jagger wrote the lyrics). Marianne Faithful, however, said that Brian Jones came up with the original tune and lyrics and Richards helped him complete the song. The inspiration for the number was said to be Linda Keith, a groupie girl Richards knew. I decide to take the idea into the realm of fiction.

The story takes place in 1969. Belinda Palmer and Clinton Pierce meet at a pot party which is busted by the police. They flee. Belinda helps Clinton get away. After the danger of arrest has passed, they talk. She says she lives in a small apartment and is a musician. Clinton is house-sitting for an uncle who owns a lake-side condo that has a piano. He asks Belinda to come to his place. She agrees. She ends up living with him there. 

She is enigmatic. This dialogue, early in the story, expresses as much:

“ … Do you work?”

“Sort of. I live with guys. They pay me.”

“You’re a hooker?” this came out of his mouth before he could stop it. He blushed. She did not look offended, though he hoped she would smile to assure him of as much.

“I guess I could be. I don’t like working regular jobs. Living with guys gives me time to do what I liked to do.”

“Which is?”

“Music. I love to play music.” 

Over the summer, their relationship develops. Belinda’s behavior, her reading habits, her philosophy on how to live, her tastes in music, the pronouncements she makes puzzle and delight Clinton. She challenges the things he has been taught about responsibility, goals, and vision.  

Clinton works at a country club as a golf caddie. When he invites Belinda eat with him at the restaurant, they encounter a man he knows just slightly, Raymond Miller, who begins to berate Belinda. Their argument escalates. He slaps her. He and Clinton get into a scuffle, though the staff at the country club and diners at the café break it up quickly. 

Miller is wealthy and a longstanding member of the country club. The owner tells Clinton he needs to take a few days off. Belinda, though, gets a lawyer and files a lawsuit against Miller, who caught Belinda and his daughter smoking a joint once and, like the father of the boy who commits suicide in Dead Poets Society, tries to assuage his guilt for his failure to relate to his daughter by blaming Belinda for the heavy drug use she engages in. Soon he learns he is out of job. Miller continues to use his influence to harass Clinton. Not wanting the bad publicly, he settles out of court with Belinda, paying her considerable amount of money. Clinton, though is out of a job. He works as a waiter in a local restaurant. Even there, Miller uses his clout in the city make Clinton’s life miserable. 

Clinton’s old girlfriend, Betsy, asks him how much he knows about Belinda. When he says he doesn’t know a great deal, she chimes in: “She’s a drop-out. Did you know that? I mean, she graduated from high school but she ran track in school and was in the dance troupe; music too and she was good—sang in the choir and played piano for us sometimes. Then she just quit all that and started doing weird stuff.” 

He remains loyal and begins to fall in love. But Belinda decides to use the money she received in the settlement to go on and follow her dreams. Clinton tries to dissuade her, but nothing works. Though she says she loves him, she goes her way. 

He later hears the song by the Rolling Stones and wonders if she too heard it and tried to live like the girl mentioned in the lyrics. He does not hear from her again. When the internet comes on the scene, he tries to find her with a net search, but to avail. Clinton marries Betsy, goes into business, accrues wealth, has a family. Yet he still thinks of Belinda—especially when he hears

                                                Good-bye. Ruby Tuesday.

                                                Who could hang a name on you,

                                                When you change with every new day?

                                                Still, I’m gonna miss you. 

“The Girl Who Was Like Ruby Tuesday” appeared in Wild Violet. You can read it here.

I am excited about the release of my newest novella, In the Court of the Sovereign King. Vaguely based on the mythic construction in the old King Crimson song, “The Court of the Crimson King,” it is a story of intrigue, struggle for power, and the eventual triumph of virtue and of ethical discipline over rapacious power.  Get a copy here.

For more titles, see my Writer's Page.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy New Year, and happy reading.

Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer, #113: Songs and Self-Identity: "Out of Time"

I wrote the story "Out of Time" about my ongoing character, Sossity Chandler, a musician; and the story, like many stories about her, took the title of a song. The song was by the Rolling Stones, a band Sossity likes and frequently does their songs as covers. The character's love of their music  derives from mine. The Rolling Stones were the #2 band of the sixties, always in the shadow of the Beatles, but now that I have more musical perspective, I can see that they deserved to be recognized for their own accomplishment. The Beatles were a more creative group, but the Stones were better musicians and their blues-based approach is appealing to me, since I play the blues and perform them now and then in local venues. I, like Sossity, am a die-hard Rolling Stones fan. 

The story takes place right after her divorce. If you know Sossity's character biography, she marries, is happily married for six years, has two children, and then finds out her husband is having an affair—and not with just anyone, with Kathy Farisi, Sossity's old suite mate from college and a trusted. In another story, she explains, speaking of her husband, I find out he’s having an affair with my best friend. My best friend—my roommate from college and someone I loved like a sister. She taught where he taught. I helped her get a job there because she couldn’t find anything after she finished her graduate degree. So after all of that, the judge pretty much gives him our children half the time. She is in a sad state of mind over this and over talking to her son on the phone the previous day. Today, she is performing with her band on a talk show; the talk-show host will interview her afterwards. She is not in the mood to perform. 

While waiting for her band to join her in the lounge, she hears the talk show host and a guest discuss about how authors are often terrible readers. When they read their own books, they don't do a very good job of it. The guest points out that authors express themselves through their writing; this is the reason they are not good as readers or speakers. As she watches, Sossity realizes this is true about her—that she expresses herself through her music and, when she goes outside of those limits, finds herself at a loss. 

Her split with her husband has been devastating. She fell into binge drinking and almost died one time from alcohol poisoning; kicked the habit but then got back on the bottle, was arrested for drunk driving, spent a night in jail, and had her license suspended. Her melt-down has been trumpeted all over the internet. Stand-up comics make fun of her. She wants to lash out at her husband but her lawyers warn her that if she attacks him publicly, he might sue. She has refrained from criticizing him.  

Now, however, the dialogue on the talk show has given her an idea. She asks her band if they could do a last-minute change and rehearse a cover they had worked on yesterday. They agree, and she and her band perform the Rolling Stones number "Out of Time." The lyrics are appropriate to how she feels:

You thought I’d be your little girl
And fit into your social whirl
But you can't come back and be the first in line, oh no
You’re obsolete my baby
My poor old-fashioned baby
I said baby, baby, baby you're out of time

The song is directed at her ex-husband. When Sossity sits down with the show's host and asks her to whom the song she sang is aimed, she is evasive. "Wouldn't you like to know," she says. The woman asks if it might be to a man, whom she had known for six years. Sossity only smiles and tells her to draw her own conclusions. Sossity knows she has found a way to attack her ex-husband without fear of liability. She can do it through music. She will sing songs and never mention him by name, but, when questioned, will indirectly make it clear she is singing about him. Musicians express themselves through music. Music will be the means for her to express the hurt and pain her former husband has caused her. And she need never mention his name. 

The story appeared in Intellectual Refuge. Read it here.

Two new novellas of mine will soon be published:  Sinfonia: A Painted Lady, and The Court of the Sovereign King. More information soon.

For additional titles, see my Writer's Page.

Happy reading.

Dave’s Anatomy: My History As a Writer #94: The Past As a Good-Bye: “Gimme Shelter”

As a guitarist and a Rolling Stones fan, it’s natural that some of my stories come from those things. I write a lot about musicians:  realistic stories about the trials of being in the music industry, stories where musicians encounter the supernatural, tales of musicians and their relationships. I can draw on my own experience, my knowledge of music, and elements in popular culture for plot ideas. And I created an ongoing character, Sossity Chandler, who toils and plays in bars and small venues until she makes it big and becomes a pop music superstar. The story for today, “Gimme Shelter,” uses that particular song as a jumping off point for a story about a guitarist who has found his niche in the world of music writing and his on/off girlfriend, Orion (Orion is pronounced like the Lake in Michigan, not like the constellation). He learns a lesson about himself from the song.

Orion

In the story, Eliot is with Orion. In their early days they both have aspirations to make it as musicians, and they both faith, though in different ways. Eliot ends up going into the academic world, earns an advance degree, finds a job, and is able to make it the world of scholarship. Orion tries to establish a career as a singer but has little success. She lives a hard-scrabble life, working from gig to gig, hardly making enough money to get by. Eliot’s career takes a turn when he grows weary of purely academic writing and pens a book on British acoustic guitar players. It is an unexpected best-seller and catapults him into the world of music writing.

He maintains a relationship with Orion. They continue as occasional lovers. He gives her money when he senses she is barely getting by. When he does research on themes related to music and popular artists, she often accompanies him. Just off a breakup with a woman he had hoped to marry, he goes with her from their home in Grand Rapids to Lansing, where she is playing a gig in a bar. On the way up they listen on old Rolling Stones records and comment on the music. Despite the fact that he talked about her in an article on upcoming blues artists that was published in Billboard, her career is not going well. She is out of money. He does the usual thing of giving her a large amount of cash to buy them drinks. She will keep the substantial cash that is left over.

As he is watching Orion play, a woman sits down with him. She is also a college instructor and likes his writing. They talk literature. She mentions an article he has written about Michigan author Bonnie Jo Campbell. She says she likes his analysis of the story: “The main character’s interpretation of his relationship to Belle when they were teenagers is the opposite of her interpretation. He saw himself as her savior and champion in those early days; she saw him as someone who sexually exploited and took advantage of her.” He mentions a similar theme in Julian Barnes’ novel The Sense of an Ending. It is obvious the woman is coming on to him, but in the middle of the conversation he has an epiphany—a moment of realization. He says he needs to go, she leaves her phone number. He thinks about Orion and how he has treated her:

As he picked up his guitar case, he realized how he had exploited her—yes, he told himself, exploited described it perfectly. In graduate school he had depended on her for emotional support when he was fatigued, discouraged, or overwhelmed—frequent occurrences for graduate students. More than once she had typed papers for him. She had always been willing to sleep with him when she sensed he needed it. She stuck with him when he was down and as a “friend” when Janelle was cutting him to pieces. She had always been there. Through the years she had borne his whining and condescension like a patient mule. She had supported him emotionally. And how had he responded? He had screwed her, given her money when she was broke, attended her concerts—and when he attended her concerts, they usually ended up in bed together. Exploitation—flat out, no way to sweeten what he had done with a euphemism and no excuse for it.

Eventually, as he and Orion have agreed, they do a couple of songs together. Afterwards, he says he wants to talk to her. She senses his agitation and wonders what is going on. He asks if she knows a place where they can go to talk. Still puzzled at his behavior, she suggests a coffee bar she knows that is open 24/7.

I let the reader imagine what will result from his epiphany, his moment of realization (a technique made popular by Irish writer James Joyce in his short story collection Dubliners). The fact that he has seen his behavior in this new light is at least hopeful.

The story appeared in the online journal Intellectual Refuge. Read it here.

For additional titles, check out my Writer's Page.

A great read is my vampire novel, Sinfonia:  The First Notes on the Lute, A Vampire Chronicle, Part I.  Get a copy here.

I would to hear your comments. Happy reading.