Heavy Wait – dark transit into the light

C.G. Jung
Rick Boettger of Key west replied to yesterday’s the coming of the light: there are far worse things hidden in plain view than being homelelss post.

Sloan, I clicked on your link to Publish America to buy HEAVY WAIT, but I couldn’t find any way to actually buy a book.  Help me out here.  Sorry, probably something like when I go the grocery store and have to ask someone to show me the kind of tomatoes Cynthia wants that are indeed right in front of me.

I wrote back to Rick:

Subject: HEAVY WAIT: A Strange Tale

Morning, Rick

I just now went to www.PublishAmerica.com. Near the top across the page are a number of departments listed in blue type, one is “online book store” – click on that and scroll down to the bottom of the page which comes up and enter either Sloan Bashinsky or Heavy Wait in the Search box and click on that, which should take you to a Heavy Wait page. As you will see, PublishAmerica categorizes the novel under “Law Enforcement”, “Spiritual” and “Romance”. Clicking on HEAVY WAIT: A Strange Tale should take you to the shopping cart.

I also checked www.Amazon.com and entered Sloan Bashinsky in the Search blank, and that took me to several books I have written, a copy or two or few more of each of those books seemed to be in their inventory. Heavy Wait was at the bottom of  that list. Probably, you can get the book quicker through Amazon, maybe in a few days, if they have any in inventory. PublishAmerica is a print-to-order bookseller, and their delivery time could run 4-6 weeks.

I told the angels yesterday that Heavy Wait is the best novel I wrote, the best I could write, the most important novel written in this century, and I didn’t see any point in my writing novels given how it ended up. The “hero” is a pretty fair plaintiff lawyer, who has his world view rearranged a few times not by his choosing. Set in Birmingham and Port St. Joe and Apalachicola, it covers a few store fronts and water fronts, and a strange tale it indeed is. Like I could write a tale that wasn’t strange.

Some people who read it said they felt maybe some of it wasn’t entirely made up. I said maybe they were right.

Sloan

P.S. Maybe I should have said the “hero” was a trial lawyer, instead of a plaintiff lawyer.
Rick wrote back that he had found HEAVY WAIT at Amazon.
Heavy Wait
===================
In yesterday’s post, I wrote that after Hurricane Michelle brushed Key West, I was moved to Birmingham.
How that came about was an old trial lawyer amigo in Birmingham emailed me out of the blue, to see what I was up to. We went back a ways, had walked down some pretty rough trails, sometimes together, sometimes not, some times of this world, sometimes not.
He asked how I was doing and I said terrific, if not having any money is terrific. He offered to pay my way to Birmingham, put me up in a motel near his new law office. I had worked in his old law office for a few months in 1999, sub rosa mostly. So he wired me enough money and some change for me to get to Birmingham on Greyhound.
He was having a really rough go in his personal life, and he mostly wanted me up there to help him with that. I went into his office every day, we talked, and I started getting involved, sub rosa, in some of his firm’s cases, as had happened in 1999. After a week or so in the motel, he paid the fee for me to stay in the Brother Bryan Mission, a men’s shelter in downtown Birmingham, where I did a brief evening devotional a couple of times a week, when there were no local ministers available to do longish revivals.
As I recall, I was the only white client. I told them during the first devotional that I was raised by a black woman, who was a behind the scenes leader in the Birmingham Civil Rights movement, but I did not know that until much later. I said while I could not know the trials of being black, I had been tested, was being tested. I said we all are tested, and the only way I knew to get through it was to listen to God’s voice and to heed it. I encouraged them to do the same.
My friend told me that when he spoke to the man in charge of Brother Bryan’s about my staying there, a white man, he told the man I was a holy man. The man asked my friend how he knew that? My friend said he could see it in my eyes. The man at Brother Bryan said, yes, he had seen it in my eyes, too.
I stayed at Brother Bryan’s three weeks, until something happened that enabled me to get an apartment about a mile to the south side of my friend’s law office. I worked in his firm until the next February, when something happened that caused me to feel that I had done all I could for him and his firm.
I had a copy of the HEAVY WAIT manusript, and had run a few more copies off on his firm’s copying machine. Although he had, at my suggestion, read and really been moved by The Spear of Destiny, by Trevor Ravenscroft, and Hostage to the Devil, by Father Malachi Martin, my friend said he was afraid to read HEAVY WAIT, and as far as I know, he never read it.
I suppose in a way his fear was justified, him being a pretty fair trial lawyer himself, with special expertise in Alabama politics and state elections, and state and federal prosecution of elected and wannabe elected Alabama politicians. We worked on one very big of those cases while I was there. He also had top security clearance with the US Government related to him sometimes defending Americans charged with treason, but he did not handle such cases while I was there.
He passed away about a year after I moved on. I hoped he was in a better place.
Right, the sub rosa work I did in his firm was not exactly the kind of law work I learned in law school and practiced in Birmingham. His law associates thought I was really weird when I first started showing up for work each morning, but when they found out I was leaving, they came to me and asked me to stay. Maybe I should have hung tougher with my friend during that terrible trial. But, as I said, I felt I had done all I could and it was time for me to move on.
That pretty fair trial lawyer in HEAVY WAIT had himself a terrible trial, too. The scribe for that tale was Sloan Young, the toughest, truest man I have ever personally known. Sloan Young went to Birmingham after Hurricane Michelle, to work in his old dear friend’s law firm. The fellow he later became, due to the same angels who told him to become Sloan Young telling him to become Sloan Young Bashinsky, Jr. again, is a wannabe. But that’s another strange tale altogether, bits and pieces of which I have told in various email ravings and later in posts at goodmorningkeyswest.com and goodmorningfloridakeys.com.
Meanwhile, saw this on Facebook yesterday:
The NRA President’s solution for Sandy Hook massacres is to arm and train guards and station them in every school. The NRA President said the NRA will be glad to train the guards. The NRA president did not say who was going to pay for the guards and their guns and ammo. I suggest we save the NRA the trouble, and save arms manufacturers the additional profit, and bring home America’s armed forces waging wars which never should have been started, for which we already are paying, and station a squad of them in every American school. However, I don’t see how that will stop a  sniper with a deer rifle and scope from picking off students, teachers, road crossing guards and parents letting off and picking up children when school starts or lets out. Then, what about rocket-propelled grenades and fertilizer car bombs? Maybe the braveheart NRA President ought to arm himself and guard the school nearest him. Better still, maybe he ought to be on the front lines in Afghanistan. Maybe that dark night might wake him up. But then, maybe not.
Sloan Bashinsky

About Sloan

That's what this website is about, also goodmorningkeywest.com and goodmorningbirmingham.com. If you can't get a publisher to take on your wacky musing, you do it yourself.
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