Change in the Weather, Change in the Title…

New cover, What do you think?

As you can see it has been almost a year since I announced the completion of my fictional memoir ” Leaving Cleveland.” What am I up to? Well, as one literary agent expressed ” You are a good writer and this is a good story and we would be interested in representing you BUT……you are not famous, yet.” He was absolutely right. Not to be deterred, I decided to go the self-publishing route. I am have researching the best way and have learned a lot about self-publishing and publishing on demand. The more I have learned the clearer it became that for this book it is the best way. I have been in contact with BookBaby and have gotten all their info and costs. I will be also applying for a grant through the college I teach photography , Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design. They award grants to help their faculty complete projects they are working on. If I do receive the grant, the wheels will be in motion and I hope to have this book out by early fall, just in time for the holiday season.

If you have been following my posts you will also notice that I have changed the title to Leaving Cleveland. When you follow the upcoming posts and read the book will make more sense. So please sign up for notices of new posts and tell your friends. If you are new to this blog , you can read some of the entries, although I will be submitting more entries in each new post as I keep you up to date with my experience of self publishing. I have also made a slight change to the cover, let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions. See if you can guess what the story is about by the cover….My goal is to post once a week and as things start to getting closer to publishing date even more.

What do you Think? Bonus Post, a short excerpt from the Novel….

I got a lot of good feedback about the cover, so I decided to try another version:

another version for the cover….

As a bonus here is an excerpt from my novel….

To set this chapter up…Sam Cohen got a break to work with the world famous photographer to the stars, Izzy Teivel, but there was one catch..he had to transport a gram of Cocaine onto a plane and fly to New Mexico to Izzy to prove his loyalty and stupidity.

© Dope Smuggler to the Stars. ( except from the novel Cleveland)

Paranoia always crept into my mind when I walked New York’s streets at night. I kept a watchful eye out for anything suspicious and continuously prepared and revised escape routes in the event of trouble. I never felt alone, though. I had no extended relations or friends or even friends of friends to rely on. But I had my invisible protector. I had Luck. It had kept my father alive in the concentration camps, and I was his only son. Surely, he had passed it on to me.

Arriving home, I found my roommate sitting at our small table, hunched over white powdered lines. “How was your day at work?” he said to me nonchalantly.

“Great,” I said. “What’s on the table?”

“Oh, I was walking through Needle Park and this guy came up to me asking if I wanted to score some pure coke. At first, I said no but he kept following me and lowering his prices until it was too good to pass up. So, I ended up buying a gram for 20 bucks. He was desperate, I guess. He looked like a junkie who needed a fix.”

“Wait. You bought a gram of coke from a stranger in Needle Park? Are you crazy?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot. I know my stuff. Plus, for only 20 bucks, what’s there to lose? Do you want to try a line or not!”

“I’ll pass. It’s been a long day and I just want to chill,” I said.

He proceeded to place a short straw in his nose and inhaled a line. He looked up at me with a frown. “OK, it’s not pure but it does have some kick. It’s not burning my nose.” He took another snort with his other nostril and suddenly started blowing air out of both nostrils. “This is mixed with something.”

He took his forefinger, licked it, and placed it in the bag of white powder. He then withdrew his finger and brushed it on his tongue.

“This shit tastes like baking soda!” he said in disgust.

“So you bought a $20 bag of baking soda? From a stranger? In Needle Park? We can always put it in the fridge to absorb some of those bad odors.” I said.

“There goes my perfect evening,” he groused. “I’m going out to get some air.” And he left the apartment.

Howie was book smart and street dumb. I felt a little sorry for him due to his awkward appearance. He seemed uncomfortable in his own skin. It didn’t help either that his last name was Shmeckler, a Yiddish word which, according to my dad, meant “little penis.”,,,,

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