Jay's still preening about the publication of his novel, The Naked Ghost, and his second novel is now imminent, mere days away from seeing the light of day. Before that happens, however, he's giving credit where credit is due.

Jay began The Naked Ghost on an actual typewriter. Those contraptions employ the impact of raised letters through inked ribbons for the torture of posterity. That was barely as many years ago as Jay generally likes to admit being old. After languishing for years, after revisions and re-revisions, and after being ported to a succession of computerized wordprocessors, Jay read the manuscript ten or so pages at a time at meetings of the Twisted Scribes writers group, whose members are hereby properly and thoroughly thanked, as well as being acknowledged in the book. So, what did Jay get from the Scribes?

Plenty. As you read The Naked Ghost, thank the Scribes for the activities near the beginning that the two main characters don't see - sure indications that something is "odd" while Whit and Casey explore the haunted mansion and its grounds for the first time. Good suggestion. Introduced the ghosts, and set up a mysterious conflict. Thank them also for suggesting other plot twists, but particularly for nodding off when Jay's readings from the book got a little tedious. Those somnolences helped greatly, because Jay wisely paid attention to the nods and snores and spiced up the novel accordingly.

Alas, the Twisted Scribes folded, but not before Jay was able to inflict his second novel, Company Time v1.0, on them and obtain their sage guidance. As a non-computer-geek audience, the Scribes' reactions were extremely valuable. Jay calls the book "a geeky novel," and it is. The non-geek Scribes had difficulty understanding some of it, so to help them out Jay interwove a cool discourse on the inner workings of computer software and the process of creating it. As the characters pursue their elusive goal of not being fired, sets of curly braces - it's a programmer thing - interrupt for explanations of things software. The geeks among us won't need those explanations, but Jay's made them cynical enough for even C++ experts to enjoy.

The Naked Ghost is available in paper and electronic versions at booksellers, Amazon.com, and Smashwords.com. Company Time v1.0 is coming soon - real soon now - in paper and electronic versions. Here's the cover and a synopsis. And Jay's working on yet another book, as we "speak."

For entertainment, here's a nice bunch of internet magic that features Jay's photos from

The ISBN for the paper edition is 978-1-879211-01-8, and the Kindle edition is ASIN: B00522VEME. Other e-book formats are in progress, and Jay's considering an agent to market more works, television rights and whatever else.

Everyone who knows Jay knows he's been working, secretly some would say, on works of fiction since, like, forever. Jay's a graduate of the newspaper business, and novel writing in the newspaper business is a long standing tradition, especially among stereotypical mild-mannered (or othrwise) reporters.

Jay was hardly known for mild-manneredness, though he aspired otherwise, but he did honor the time-honored tradition of writing fiction in his spare time. He set out on his first novel in the late Sixties when a serious ankle injury left him laid up for a few weeks. With plenty of time to write, he did just that, passing the 200-page result around among friends at the newspaper in South Carolina for comment. After changing jobs and cities and a few other interruptions, he finished the book a couple of years later in Charlottesville, Virginia. That being before humanly ownable wordprocessors, the book was in tatters, with pink and yellow pasteups where changes had been inflicted and much scribbling between the lines for edits and amplifications. After another break of two decades with a bunch of life's vicissitudes sailing by, Jay dragged the manuscript, then around 300 pages, out of a trunk and set about typing it into his favorite wordprocessor. That was several computers ago. Most of that manuscript is still in a state of pink-paper paste-up, and that's not the one that is - brace yourself - now freshly published.

So it is that Jay's first-published novel is actually his second. He got it off to a good start in 1982, on paper with an actual typewriter, parked it several times over the years, and brought it to life and paper and electronic versions this month, May 2011. Here's the cover.

The action takes place in a fictional town near Atlanta. No, not in South Carolina, because the book's characters needed a larger city with room for high-rise condo complexes, traffic jams and other discomforts of urban living, since the characters go looking for an escape from all that, and find it haunted. Jay had a great deal of fun drawing the town's characters, especially the flirt Gertie, waitress at the local diner, and the mysterious, clairvoyant Isabel, proprietor of the local antiques emporium. A couple of herds of shrinks can spend decades trying to figure out which characters are influenced by real people from Jay's past, but really, they're all creations of Jay's imagination. The many years of development allowed Jay to hone the characters, slowly replacing all aspects of reality with entertaining lies. Namely, fiction.

While Jay's been neglecting this blog he's been hard at work procrastinating loads of other work and getting one of his novels ready, at last, for publication. It's actually his second novel, but the first one to see print.

Jay has four non-fiction titles to brag about, all of them moldy old and out of print. Obsolete, if you must. He's been crafting fiction on the sly all these decades, stashing the completed works. Available imminently, The Naked Ghost, spent decades in development. Jay first put typewriter ribbon to paper for it in 1982. That was before he owned a word processor, or even a computer. Ahhh, those were the days.

Besides moving, sometimes with some difficulty, through several brands and types of computers and multiple incarnations of word processing software, the novel has gone though much revision over the years. Jay inflicted readings from it on his local writers' group, The Twisted Scribes, from whom he derived much assistance in polishing the humor and honing the characters.

The revision for publication entailed bringing it up to date once again. The story takes place in "current" time, with but one flashback and a flash-forward to fracture the flow. What was "current" in the mid-Eighties, well, isn't very with-it now. So Jay revisited the manuscript and brought many references into the present while proofreading, checking and editing. He also tightened a few places that didn't move quick enough for "current" time, though they ticked along just fine back in the Eighties. Jay's had a wonderful time with all this, and looks forward to finishing the sequel.

You noticed, of course, that this whole discussion fails to answer the question: What's the story about? So glad you asked. Here's a fresh promotional synopsis destined for the back cover:

The piano plays torch songs and the fluffy house cat has mischievous habits that transcend even the paranormal. And then there's that little wet dog... Atlanta gay couple Whit and Casey find the country home they dream of, but find out it's haunted. After a spat and some scary adventures they buy the place anyway, but can't decide whether to move in. The sexy ghosts turn out to be pre-incarnations of themselves, and a good time is had by all.

Unless disaster strikes, the book will be available in paper and electronic editions before the end of May 2011. The ISBN is 978-1-879211-01-8. With any luck it'll be banned in Boston and burned in Concord, North Carolina. All the better for sales.

One of Jay's all time likes is cinema.

Jay's father managed several theaters for a time, and when Jay was still quite young he help the old man out, learning to run the projectors, change the reels of film, rewind the movies' many reels with a hand-operated contraption, and change the electrodes in the carbon arc projectors. Jay's always appreciated machinery, maybe stemming from that experience. The job had its rewards. At an early age, Jay was able to appreciate the work of Marilyn Monroe and other bombshells of the day, from the projection rooms, inbetween projection duties.

Movie houses were mostly nicer, prettier, and better appointed than the ones we suffer with today. Going to the movies was a big deal, like going to a concert. Besides the wonderful, ubiquitous concessions, there was a mystique to moviegoine. Especially in nicer theaters in the evenings, flashlight-wielding ushers guided customers to seats. Managers summarily tossed out troublemakers, and since cell phones hadn't been invented nobody made or answered inane calls during the feature. Ahhh, the good old days.

Jay gave up going to actual theaters years ago, though he still watches many movies. The DVD player has to do, mostly for its useful pause button, but also for the availability of a fast-forward function when the directors wax poetic about something stupid, something boring, or something infuriating, offensive, or sick. Jay particularly dislikes movies in which he hates all the characters - not uncommon among current flicks. He dislikes violence - always has - and will put up with it only if it's absolutely essential to the story being told. Sex is much better. Do sex; imply violence. Much better. And please don't confuse the two.

Same with drugs. Filmmakers, pay attention! It doesn't take much footage to convey that a character has a drug problem, is a drug dealer or whatever. Move on! There is absolutely nothing entertaining, expository, or useful about watching other people use drugs. Any drugs, and that includes nicotine. Except coffee drinking. That's okay, but do move on, or suffer the indignity of a burst of fast forward.

Jay would much prefer to watch movies in a nicely appointed theater. By himself. No cell phones allowed. No loudmouths, hecklers, crying babies or other annoyances, but with a few pauses allowed from time to time for bathroom breaks or to refresh drinks, The DVD does the job, though the screen is small and the sound barely adequate - till Jay can replace his stereo.

Jay's favorite movie is hard to pick. Way hard - there are so many masterpieces to choose from. He's a major fan of the works of Hayao Miyazaki, especially "Princess Mononoke," and of Jean-Pierre Jeunet, especially "A Very Long Engagement." He loved "Network," the original one from 1976 about television (quote) news (unquote), and a wonderful old French movie named "Le Roi de coeur" (The King of Hearts). Rope in most of the classics, too, especially the Chaplin comedies, the Peter Sellers slapsticks, and lots of other rib ticklers. Not to mention "Yes Giorgio" already mentioned in these columns. Jay likes mysteries and even puts up with the violence entailed in them. His favorites are those from the novels of Agatha Christie - Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot, to indulge in a little name dropping. So picking one favorite, not going to happen. Picking a thousand favorites, maybe, but why?

Jay loves animated movies. Goes back to his early experiences in the projection rooms. The main features came comprised a dozen or so reels of around twenty minutes each. After Brigitte Bardot finished doing her on-screen thing, or whatever, the cartoons started. The more the merrier for the audience, though the projectionist had quite a time of it. Those seven-minute reels gave little time to load up the second projector with the next one, so there was zero chance to actually watch the cartoons. Jay's father generously handled loading the projectors by himself so Jay could devote undivided attention to the cartoons. The rewinding task waited till the next feature started. One must have one's priorities!

The picture has little to do with movies, but a lot to do with Jay's sad farewell to Kodachrome, for which the only remaining processing plant closed at the end of 2010.

Much as Jay loves paper, he's a tree hugger at heart, saddened this time of year that so many beautiful trees are wasted.

Jay doesn't do that, for more reasons than his tree-huggerness. Yet, Jay loves paper. And wood things. Wood grain and cedar shakes. And pictures of all of the above.

Jay appreciates all things tree. Patterns in the bark, shuffling through leafy rainbows of muted color in the fall, the gaunt gnarls described by bare branches in winter, sprouts and buds that herald spring and especially the brazen few that flower first, risking frost to put on their colorful display early on. Jay greatly appreciates cooling shade, pine cones, and particularly nuts and berries. He loves looking at trees, too, admiring them through the lenses of his cameras as often as possible. And he has, on occasion, actually hugged a tree. Indeed, more than once, but no need for details. It's just a fact. Besides, he's seen many trees, great and small, that he'd like to have hugged, but didn't for one reason or other.

Jay respects trees and the many products made from them. The paper that he uses goes out with Jay's respect and with his heartfelt appreciation of a job well done, a purpose fulfilled, a tree's life not squandered. He

tries not to waste, and looks for "Recycled" icons on the products he uses. If he sends you a paper invoice - and you have to ask to get paper instead of electronic any more - it's on a (beautiful!) paper made from banana peels. Envelopes to match. Jay's proud of that. Jay'd rather we not have any more global warming than we've already got, and he's tried to keep his carbon footprint minimal. Not successfully. He drives around, instead of walking, though he wishes his wallet would accommodate an electric car.

Jay loves the fall, but hates it, too. It's a political thing, trying to maintain the delicate balance of family sensibilities with the need to remain under half a ton overweight.

Fall has some great stuff going for it. There's the wondrous spectacle of the leaves turning orange, red, yellow and whatever. Jay's often seen - and photographed - blue and purple ones - always a joy, and the prospect of cooler days, welcome after having suffered through another of the Deep South's infamous summers.

Sadly, there's the annual Season of Food, too. That's the period of gluttony between summer salad 'cause it's too hot to even eat, and winter comfort snacks in between the hearty soups, stews, and chowders. Jambalaya, even. Jay's always been a person of the large persuasion, some of the time - like now, for instance - holding down the higher end of the category with gusto. It runs in the family, so Jay likes to say he got it honest.

Take Thanksgiving, for example. Much is made of turkey and dressing, but T-giving dinner at Jay's Grandma's house - a tradition that defines traditions - always included copious other food of many kinds for copious guests, all of whom, especially darling Jay, were expected to bestow copious compliments on the chef - chefs, plural, in most cases. Jay's other cooking-inclined relatives brought along their respective specialties and presented them proudly. If there was some to take home, they were saddened, wondering what went wrong with the preparation.

Here's a typical example: You only had three helpings of (whatever) didn't you like it? No kidding, not exaggering one bit! Hey, how ya doing, I brought all your favorites. True, no doubt, and Jay had - well, has - lots of favorites. He's way fond of dessert, though he can put away considerable tonnages of other victuals, too. Then there's the unintentionally backhanded "My, you've gotten a lot bigger since I saw you at (whatever event). Do you want another slice of pie? I made it special 'cause I knew you'd be here."

No kidding, all these are real, quoted from among many sad episodes that haunt Jay's memories. In later years, Jay tried to mitigate the expected consumption in the hope of being able to breathe during the afternoon of wheezing that followed T-day feasts. This plan didn't work. "You're not eating much, are you sick? Let me see if you have a fever. Eat something. You'll feel better." Well, he got it honest, like he says.

Jay got interested in photography as art in the late Sixties (the nineteen sixties, thank you), and joined the actual fray as a photographic artist around 1970. That turned out to be a short-lived, ill fated venture, but he pleads youth and naïveté. Okay, youth and stupidity, but the multitudinous disasters had little to do with photographic or artistic considerations and a whole lot to do with crooked real estate agents, greedy banks, nincompoop insurance companies, and heavy handed Southern politics so crooked they call it "North Carolina" politics. Anyway, photography-as-art still beguiles, and Jay yields to the Muse's call whenever possible, reason and common sense and even old age notwithstanding. Jay's exhibited many of his photographs in the Midlands of South Carolina within smelling distance of the very seat of state government and within cannonball-shooting distance of the capitolith itself. The art shows provided opportunities to show off, even though Jay had to brave appearing in actual person at the openings. Now he maintains a continuous online art show, where sales of prints are enabled worldwide: RedBubble

Jay's not noted for conformity and doesn't fit well into any categories. "Mainly, I get bored easy." So, the body of his work cuts across a variety of styles, schools, techniques, subjects, and display media. Some are old and traditional, and some new and misunderstood. Some work, and some don't. The viewer decides which is which.

Often printing images in more than one way, Jay alters them as necessary to adjust to the medium. Other works are traditional photographs printed by technologically impressive means onto non-traditional (for photography) surfaces such as artists' canvas, watercolor paper, and metallic foil.

Jay especially likes images in plain ol' photographic gelatin-silver created in the dark. However, the allure of electronic output, with the color permanence of giglée prints, keeps his kitchen smelling more like food than fixer. Oh, and that's another thing. Jay's respiratory functions are extremely sensitive to photographic chemicals, owing to the years he spent in the color photo lab business.

People are usually Jay's favorite subjects, including nudes. He also likes the surreal, and creating abstractions that start as photographs of people, nude or otherwise, and metamorphize into something indistinct, but reminiscent of reality in some curious way.

Computer technologies have booted up an infinite palette of possibilities for manipulating the camera's imagery, and Jay delights in exploring those complexities with works that cut across both traditional and digital photographic technologies. Many of his favorite works are digital abstractions, which he greatly enjoys doing and looking at, ever since 'way back in the Seventies - the Nineteen Seventies.

As an artist and a photographer, Jay's completely self-taught. "Outsider," is the current term. He learns best by doing, anyway, and Jay's always felt that doing something - even doing it wrong - was a better way of figuring out how to do it than being told. Besides, there have always been plenty of books on the subjects, and Jay definitely relates to books. In fact, he'll miss them when they're replaced by electronic versions. But moving to his present apartment was complicated by the fact that his books filled up more than half of the rent-a-truck and consumed immense amounts of time to pack and unpack. A few dozen CD-Roms would have held them all.