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.

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 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.

Nothing finer than cruising through the mountains expressing awe at the fabulous scenery, and that's just what Jay's been up to for the last couple of weeks. As he prepares to celebrate the 34th anniversary of his 29th birthday (you do the math), he rewarded himself with not one but two trips to the mountains. He even sprung for a new pocketable camera for the second trek, and except for eating batteries for lunch, it's a gem.

Verbiage, even the storied kiloword, does a poor job of expressing the visual, so here are some pictures, with links to larger versions on RedBubble.com.

More are in Jay's RedBubble presence now, with still more to come. There are more extensive captions there, too, but really, just look at the pictures and enjoy, and fill in with your imagination any details that might be lacking.

First up is The Light Center. It's on the scenic (to the max!) Highway 9 near Black Mountain, North Carolina. A geodesic dome (think 1964 New York World's Fair and the 1970 South Carolina Tricentennial celebration), the cool space has shaped windows that admit streams of light. The Center is located on a one of the many vortexes (vortices, whatever) in the area, and if you're not familiar with those tune in to some of the frequent Visitations from Distant Planet episodes on cable. Mystical or not the dome made for cool pictures, both inside and outside.

The nicest thing about Tennessee is getting there, 'cause from here you get to drive through the mountains of North Carolina and through some of the most beautiful parts of Tennessee, just over the North Carolina/Tennessee line. In the mountains, of course. Can you tell Jay likes mountains?

Anyway, the occasion was a wedding of friends and former neighbors of Jay's in Knoxville, and here's a cool shot of a small stream close to the outdoor ceremony. The weather was quite hot, with humidy far above the Richter scale, so Jay got overheated, but managed to survive. He snapped this picture and many others before retreating to the cool confines of the hotel for a rest.

And this one, a simple slatted wooden chair. Jay likes pictures of chairs, always has, and harbors many of them in his collection of Photos that Few People Appreciate.

More chairs.

Now back to Black Mountain for a pleasant stroll around Lake Tomahawk in the middle of town. It's more of a pond than a lake, and a small one at that, especially by Lake Murray standards, but don't let on, as the locals treasure it. It's home to a fine bunch of feathered friends, too, some of whom posed for portraits as Jay and his friends made the half-mile trek around the lake to take in all the sights.

Cut to: Fine feathered friend on the fly, or almost so.

The park's management has taken pains to installed a Watercraft Launching Point. Looks like the ducks are observing the rules and launching without bringing in any vehicles.

It'll be hard to tell from such a small print, but this is a butterfly, posing momentarily in the middle of the path. Normally, Jay would enlarge to the max and zoom in on the little creature, but in this case he likes the shadow of the setting sun, and the textures of the path and the lawn's edges. So this is what you get. Small butterfly in a large space. Live with it.

Back to downtown Black Mountain, where a store named Chocolate Gems makes these masks out of, well, chocolate. This one's inside a plastic wrapper inside a glass showcase.

Jay pronounced the place a suburb of Heaven.

Jay often wonders. He wonders a great deal, and pretty much weekly he wonders why restaurants insist on being closed when he wants to eat. Jay's no stranger to the art of cooking. He knows how to assemble a sandwich, chop a proper salad and apply salad dressing, preferably in copious amounts. He knows how to marinate, how to broil, bake, and stir-fry. He especially knows not to, most especially in the summertime when it's blazes hot outside and heating up the stove makes it even hotter inside, as well as putting a strain on the airconditioning that's readily reflected in the electric bill. So aside from being too lazy to cook - the truth outs - Jay likes going out to eat for other reasons. Coolth conservation in the summertime, and a handy reason to escape the confines of home otherwise. He also likes walk-in-sit-down restaurants and mostly doesn't relate to drive-through food.

Not to say Jay doesn't like fast food. Indeed, that's his most frequent choice because it's simple, uncluttered, and predictably mediocre-at-worst. Jay likes food and other things - life, really - uncomplicated. He doesn't need hype to tell if food is good, and hype doesn't make the dishes taste any better anyway. That "garden fresh salad" as promoted by the picture-perfect theme-restaurant menus is usually dunked in nasty chemicals to keep it from spoiling. Not interested. One thing Jay has learned in years of restaurants: it never looks like the picture.

Mostly, Jay doesn't care for fancy food. Or things that look like they might bite, or food that spent too much time near the pepper pot, or disgusting looking creatures passed off as delicacies. You know the ones. From years of vegetarianism and near-so, Jay's not a fan of steaks, but he can be tempted now and then. He generally tries to hold the calorie count down, at least out of scientific notation, and lately has to skip everything that even vaguely resembles dessert, by far his favorite stuff. Lately, Jay's become far more predictable than he likes to admit, but he's mostly a night person. He's frequently hungry when most restaurants aren't open. Ever been to a "late night" place late at night? They're always packed to the rafters. So why, Jay wonders, are all the other places closed? Surely they'd like to serve up some food and rake in some dough from the late night rush.

Jay fondly remembers a time when there were many fewer corporate restaurants in Columbia. Better days for sure, and better food and more choices to boot. The Capitol Café, which was open all night, served up an extensive menu of food from a multiple-page menu stitched into green plastic. So now we have an endless array of characterless, close-at-ten-o'clock-sharp, corporate exemplaries with grills and fryers and a limited menu of stuff some ad agency pushes very hard. Open till ten, or maybe you can queue up for an hour at the drive-through window while the minimal staff chews gum. The late-night choices continue to dwindle.

Jay's not an enthusiastic headline writer, so you take the good with the bad here. Headlines sometimes pop into the brain and literally write themselves. Good ones, even. Bad ones, alas, can take much agonizing time to concoct while the Muse laughs and cackles. There are people who have a natural talent with headlines, and Jay's met lots of them, but doesn't count himself among their number. When it comes to headlines, he works for everything he gets, and often gets little for his work.

The same is true of poetry. Jay's Muse came for a stay a few decades ago and dropped pithy lines all over the place, trusting Jay to gather and record them. He did that, troubling the Muse on occasion for a completion to something well begun, but never achieved the stardom as a poet that some people enjoy without even working up a sweat. It's all there, the vocabulary, the imagery, the finely honed appreciation of the nuances of language. But it doesn't come without the Muse's inspiration, and Jay can't even force it to work, as he usually can with prose. His entire poetic output is but a thin sheaf of lines that he hasn't incremented or polished, or even looked through in years. Indeed, the few people he permitted to look at his work were all in agreement that it was, on the whole, worthless. Exit Muse, stage left.

But this week, again, deadlines loom, so have to do with a picture to tide over till another time. A little abstraction this time. Jay particularly likes abstract images that are something to begin with - abstracted ways of looking at reality, perhaps odd angles, extreme closeups, or lit in some unusual way. This picture starts off as a simple picture of a green plastic float, floating in the swimming pool here at the apartment complex during the annual pool party last week. The apartment management puts on the party to celebrate summer with hot dogs, burgers, and humidity. A good time was had by all. To bring out the plastic floatness of the plastic float, Jay added some Photoshop filters. It's a shot taken with his pointy shooty aim-and-mash-button pocketable camera, and the odd natural light gave it the alien look you see here. It didn't need much color correction. He applied a tonemapping filter that enhanced the midtone contrast, plus an Orton effect that emphasized the pillowy look of the float's folds. To the small version for this blog he added several whacks of unsharp masking to accentuate the texture. If none of this technospeak means anything to you, you're fortunate. Just enjoy the picture. Click it for a bigger view on RedBubble.com.