Everything Is Useful

I've said it a thousand times before but I don't know what people who do not write do --- especially when they are dealing with difficult times in their lives. I won't bore you with more about what a difficult summer this has been but one good thing is that I have been doing a lot of writing. Shortly after Mark died I went through a series of strange experiences that both overwhelmed and mystified me. With the help of a couple of friends who are more tuned into the metaphysical world than I am, I sorted all this out and, while I am not really ready to talk openly about it, it served as the basis for a story, “Sailor's Valentine”, that I am not entirely finished with but which I truly love.

Recently I was contacted by an editor friend who is looking for stories for an anthology she is working on and she asked if I would write something for her. The piece had to have an ecological component to it and, since I live in Gloucester, she thought I might have a unique perspective. I thought about it for quite awhile and then decided to write about something Mark talked about all the time, the fact that fishermen have a vested interest in preserving the environment and working to safeguard their workplace --- the North Atlantic Ocean.

At first it felt strange to be writing about something that I personally have limited experience with but, because I had the benefit of several years working with a highly gifted writer who knew all about it, I know more than the average person probably does. So I set to work.

As the story began to take shape and as I spent a good deal of time reading through old blogs about Mark and also through a lot of his old emails and notes I realized that he gave me an extraordinary gift that I had, so far, failed to appreciate. He brought me into his world and let me see not only the challenges and joys of it but also, through his endless capacity to observe minute details, he gave me words --- lots and lots of words --- describing both the world he lived and the man he was in living it. Writing this story has been pure joy.

A few years ago a brother lobsterman-friend of Mark's died --- also very unexpectedly --- and his widow and I became friends during that time. We talked a lot about the kinds of men both of them were and how unimaginable the world would seem without them. Now we both know. During that time I suggested to her that she start writing about her husband. I said that it might help her feel close to him. Shortly after Mark died she contacted me and we exchanged a lot of emails. Her husband has been gone for three years now and she still misses him terribly. In one letter she told me that she took my advice and that she had filled three notebooks so far --- and was still writing. She said it helped her enormously. I was so glad.

That's the thing. When someone dies that tremendous sense of loss can become overwhelming. Nobody wants to pass from the earth unremarked and, yet, so many do. But writing is such a gift because through our words and our stories --- the notebooks we fill for our own use or the stories we send off to editors --- we keep a part of them alive. Sometimes we even can share their lives with those who might otherwise not have known them.

So I am writing about lobster-fishing. Not from the perspective of someone who has done it but rather from the perspective of someone who was lucky enough to share the life of someone who has done it. There is both joy and solace in doing this.

I have to end this and get back to my story. And I am grateful to have it to write.

(The photos above are both by Jay Albert.)

Thanks for reading.

Sailing Ships and Knitted Beauties

I want to show a few more of the designs that are scheduled to be in my forthcoming knitting book but before I get to that I wanted to post an exceptional photograph taken by our good friend Jay Albert at his wonderful photo blog Cape Ann Images.

Jay's work is so beautiful I want everyone to see it. So now on to knitting. These are four more designs, 2 shawls and 2 cocoons, that will be in the book. The first is a variation on the Mermaid Shawl that I call the Gypsy Shawl. It is knitted the same way until you come to where the lace patterns begin. Then a different set of lace patterns are used. And it is knitted out of 100% recycled silk from Nepal.

I love working with silk and when I can get a great buy on it --- as I often do through eBay or ColourMartUK --- I can justify using it. The next shawl is a rectangle than can also be used as a lavish scarf. It is a silk and rayon chenille that I purchased at Webs in Northampton a number of years ago. It is worked on #2 needles because chenille tends to worm unless it is knit tight but it is worth the time spent.
The next two cocoons are happy accidents. They both started out as shawls but, because I made some dumb decisions while working on them, they were too awkward as shawls so, rather than make them over, I transformed them into cocoons which I absolutely love. The first one is one of the few wool pieces I own --- I have problems with a lot o wool. But was purchased from Handpainted Yarns, a women's collective from Uruguay. I love that knitters in the US are supporting villages all over the world thanks to our obsessions with knitting. The silk from Nepal also came from such a collective. So this is their wool boucle in a color I adore called Barbie Rose. This is a comfortable, snuggle wrap that is as stylish over evening clothes as it is cozy over a nightgown (left).

And finally, what says luxury more than black cashmere? This beautiful cocoon was originally a shawl that I knit widthwise instead of lengthwise and I soon discovered that it stretched much too much when I wore it as a shawl. So I transformed it into a cocoon and I wear it all the time. It looks great with a long skirt or with jeans. The cashmere was an eBay find and I at first I thought it was a little stiff but once I finished knitting and washed it --- yum! Total luxury.


I've gotten some amazing fibers from eBay. Several years ago I purchased a 50 silk/50 cashmere yarn in a lovely sunny yellow. After many starts that didn't go well it is now being transformed into the laciest shrug imaginable. I hope to get it finished in time for the book. It looks like we are in for a cold, rainy weekend so I'm planning to stay home and work on the book and, of course, my knitting. Hope yours is wonderful wherever you are and whatever you do.

Thanks for reading.

The Mermaid Shawl & other Beauties

If you purchased Kathleen Valentine's novel The Old Mermaid's Tale and would like a free copy of the Mermaid Shawl section of the book in PDF format, please email: mermaid@valentine-design.com

A couple of years ago I created a shawl out of Knit Picks Suri Dream that I called the Mermaid Shawl. I posted pictures of it on my blog and I have been inundated with requests for the pattern ever since. I tried having a KAL and it went fairly well --- several people completed the shawl and sent photos but there were a few kinks I had to work out of the pattern and it has been on my To-Do list forever. Well, I'm finally doing it.

Yesterday my good friend Jane offered to act as model so I could take some pictures for a knitting book I am working on. I'm calling it The Mermaid Shawl & other Beauties: Shawls, Cocoons and Wraps. At present I have the Mermaid Shawl and two variations on it, two cocoons, and four shawls/scarves all of them featuring lacy stitch work and all of them easily adaptable by size. It is my intention to have the book ready by the first of the year.

Here are three of the designs that will be featured. Below is the original Mermaid Shawl in Suri Dream. I also have a variation called the Gypsy Shawl made from recycled sari silk.

This one is a striped, open-work rectangle made with Knit Picks Shimmer, an alpaca and silk blend. It works up fast and gets it's soft color changes by knitting with two strands held together in alternating changes. (That's my car in the background.)

And this is a rather fanciful wrap made of recycled raw silk from a thrift store sweater that I unraveled. I realize people will not be able to find a similar sweater but it is a good example of how you can turn odd finds into treasures.

In addition to the patterns I want to write about how I adapt patterns and designs to accommodate available stash, how to transform a problem piece into something entirely new, and other random things I have discovered in my 40+ years of knitting. I'm even including a short story that tells a fictional account of the origin of the Mermaid Shawl. As promised, those who have written to tell me they purchased and read The Old Mermaid's Tale, will get a free copy of the book as soon as it is available. I'm going to post more designs later this week.

I want to thank Jane for being such a lovely model. I also want to thank Tom Ellis for conveniently positioning the Thomas E. Lannon Schooner off Ten Pound Island while we were shooting. He didn't know about it but I thank him anyway. This is the proposed cover. What do you think? Would you buy this book?

Thanks for reading.

I'll Take The Pain

I met a friend for dinner tonight and then gave her a ride home after she dropped off her car to have some work done on it. Since she lives near the art association I went out there to the parking lot afterwards to watch the sun go down. That is the first time I have been able to bear doing that this summer. I met Mark there so very many times to just sit and talk and watch the sun go down --- we did that for years. This summer I have not done it at all.

While I was there David, the fisherman who owns the Black Sheep now, was out working on the boat. I watched him working on the deck and then motoring across the cove to a slip --- I don't know what he was doing, maybe picking up bait so he can lobster fish tomorrow. It was sweet watching him go about his work. It was sweet remembering all the many conversations that took place in that parking lot --- almost always about writing. How do you tell a story? How do you build suspense? How much poetry is allowed before it becomes obnoxious? What is the difference between emotional honesty and sentimentalism? How much truth can we bear to reveal? These were all things we talked about endlessly. I miss you, Mark. I really do.

Sometimes I think I feel his presence near me. I think I feel his hand --- that big, hard hand --- touching the back of my neck, the way he used to do. Sometimes I think I hear him say my name in that quiet, low voice of his --- “Kath”. He was one of the few people who called me that. Sometimes in the morning I think I hear him open the back door from the deck for one of his early morning visits. Sometimes it's just the “himness” of him that won't leave me.

I think about the first three and a half years versus those last few months when things were so estranged between us. I blamed myself for the fights. Actually, he always denied that we fought. He said we “disagreed”. He didn't like the word fight. But it was so strained then. He said he wanted me to start editing his second book, Code Flag Alpha, and I said he needed to work harder at promoting the one that was already out. He said I wasn't being supportive of the proposed movie deal. I said I would be thrilled when the check cleared the bank. He said I was paying more attention to other books I was working on than I was to his. I said I needed to earn more money. He said I was being negative. I said I was a mess. My father had recently died and I had a book just out that I didn't have time to promote and on and on and on... Now I know there was so much more than I did know.

His mother tells me that I need to remember how sick he was. She says he was taking a lot of medication and it effected his temperament. We, neither she nor I, knew that at the time. Last Thursday night she told me that in one of their last conversations he told her how much he hoped he'd be able to pay me back for the things I had done for him. I think he knew what was coming, I really do.

I guess this is what happens when there is a loss greater than you think you can bear --- you keep going over ever tiny detail and wondering if it meant more than it did. I have a box full of manuscripts with his handwritten markups on them and notes and little “parables” he would write on the backs of envelopes and stick under the windshield wiper on my car. I look at his handwriting and wonder what earthly piece of him remains in that. Sometimes, after he had a disagreement with someone in his family, he would come over here for a little consolation and he would look at me with those big, warm, soft eyes of his and say, “They're not my family, Kath. You're my family.”

I still have not been able to go into Halibut Point. I struggle going into the coffee shop. I get weepy when I pass by one of our special meeting places. I miss him and it hurts and yet and yet and yet...

Hemingway always said to write the truest thing you know and this is mine: If I had a choice between all this pain and never having known him at all, I'll take the pain.

Thanks for reading.

Once Upon A Time In Texas

It was Spring time and I was in love. He was very tall and blond and was from Australia. He had the most wonderful accent. So on this beautiful Spring night he invited me to go to Galveston with him for the evening. I was always happy to go to Galveston and going with him was going to be especially wonderful.

We drove down I-45 and over the bridge into Galveston. To me there was always something magical about Galveston. I'd been there many times but this was a particularly special night. Some nights are just seething with that delicious aura of wonderfulness. It was a night like that. He said he wanted to take me someplace where we could dance, how about The Balinese Room? Excellent idea.

I had been in the Balinese Room before. I had walked the length of the deck and purchase souvenirs in the shop and had more than a couple beers in The Ice House, the casual bar there. But I'd never been there at night, to dance, with a man I was in love with.

I've always been attracted to the nightclub scene of 1940s and 50s. I think in a past life I was a torch singer with one of those bands. I've always said that of all the characters I've ever created Ruby in My Last Romance is the closest to being my alter ego. I think Ruby was conceived on that night. In My Last Romance when Ruby sets out to seduce Silvio she makes herself a lipstick red dress and, as she says, “I looked like sin itself strutting into The Balinese Room that night.”

My dress was more of a rose red, I still remember it, crinkled gauze with a peasant neckline that drooped off my shoulders. And white wedgie sandals and a necklace made of white seashells I had purchased in the gift shop there a few years earlier.

The Balinese Room stood at the end of a 600 ft covered pier stretching out into the Gulf of Mexico. It was famous for its bands and its raucous, slightly shady atmosphere, and the fact that all kinds of glamorous people of bygone eras had frequented it --- Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, all those guys who invented the whole concept of nightclubs. There had been a notorious casino in the last room of the building and the 600 ft. pier made raids difficult because, by the time the cops, ran the length of the pier, all the evidence of misbehavior could be stashed away. And there were rumors of ghosts --- wonderful ghosts who appeared dressed in their finest gowns and cruised the dark corridors looking for their missing dance partners.

The murals on the walls depicted exotic island women in colorful clothes with dark hair and mischievous eyes and seductive posture. There were pillars decorated to look like palm trees and wrapped in twinkling gold lights. The place smelled of generations of booze and perfume and cigarettes all washed by fresh Gulf air. It was the sort of place where you could snuggle up to your dance partner and pretend it was another time, right after the War, maybe, and tomorrow was a million years away. All that mattered was tonight. It was the sort of place where you could go outside to watch the waves roll in and the sun go down and kiss and kiss and kiss.

That wasn't the last time I went to The Balinese Room --- with the Australian and later without him. But it was a time that will linger on the edge of my sweetest memories forever. I have often said that if life was perfect I would live in Gloucester from May through November and in Galveston the rest of the year. I dreamed about more nights in The Balinese Room --- maybe not as magical but every bit as delicious.

Early this morning Hurricane Ike ended that fantasy. The Balinese Room was ripped to shreds and tossed carelessly into the Gulf and over the seawall. It is no more.

I've had a bad year for losses and, in many ways, this is yet another one. But, like the others, the memory is sweet. And it is mine and I am grateful for that.

Thanks for reading.

“The Devil's Martyr's”

Recently someone gave me a copy of Rabbi Harold Kushner's classic When Bad Things Happen To Good People. I had never read it and, though it is not that I think anything so terrible has happened in my life, I found reading it a comfort and an affirmation of much of what I personally believe: That Life happens --- and that God is not about altering the vicissitudes of life but rather about giving us strength and courage in facing them.

In the book Rabbi Kushner mentions what he calls “The Devil's Martyrs” --- people whose loss causes their loved ones to become angry and bitter and rail against God and ask “what kind of a God would do this to someone?” Seems there are a lot of folks around these days who turn their dead into Devil's Martyrs. And one of the things Rabbi Kushner says is, “The facts of life and death are neutral. We, by our response, give suffering either a positive or a negative meaning.” And he goes on to say that we, as the living can either make some one a Devil's Martyr or we can make them witnesses for God and for Life. He says, “The dead depend on us for their redemption and their immortality.”

I found this not only comforting but reassuring. Particularly because I have been so obsessed with Mark's book. He was so proud of that book and the thought of it dying with him is terrible to me. The book has its flaws as all human endeavors do. But it also has great beauty. And as I was reading Rabbi Kushner's words this morning I remembered a beautiful passage in the final chapter of Mark's book. He believes he is about to die and he is remembering things that happened in his life. He is begging God not to let him drown and he begins to think about something he was a part of as a young man. I'll post those paragraphs here and let Mark tell you in his own words what thoughts were in his mind as he was facing death. I hope they stayed with him in those moments of his life that really were final:

(Photo at left: Mark back in his lifeguard days.)

But a long time ago, when I was young and dumb, I actually saw Him. Yeah, that’s right. I saw God. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time but it was definitely Him—the apparition of God on Earth in human form.

Toward the end of summer lifeguards everywhere have spent too many days in the sun. After a week long stretch of sunshine we would do rain dances or call up people who seed clouds—anything to get a rainy day. It was finally a cloudy day on Wingaersheek Beach. There were four of us guards on duty. Only a few people were on the beach. Three of us played poker and the fourth guard patrolled the beach paying special attention to those parts hidden from the guard shack by the rocks.

The tide was out and, with the gradual incline of the beach, it was ten times as big at low tide as it was at high. Wingaersheek is one big beach at low tide. The current from the Annisquam River scoured out a pool behind one of the largest rocks. The pool was a good thirty feet in diameter and dropped off gradually to about six feet in the middle. It was there that I was to see God.

I had just drawn a third queen to the two I already had when we heard yelling. We were all up and looking for its source. The roving guard emerged from behind another rock at a dead run, headed toward the tidal pool, blasting on his whistle, dropping his white safari hat and hurling his red jacket high in the air—all signs that something was terribly wrong.

Hats and jackets were airborne in a heartbeat. Three of us headed right at the pool. I was ahead of the other two, about twenty yards from the pool, when the rover hit the water. As I closed on the pool I could see an unrecognizable object seeming to float in the middle. I slid to a halt at the edge and there He was—God. All that was visible of Him were His hands and arms. He was holding his little sister above the water’s surface. He was totally submerged—drowning. Even though he was about to die he still held his baby sister above the water. I hit the water swimming, head up, eyes locked on the victim as I’d been taught. Just as Guard #1 reached her, the arms collapsed. The girl fell into the water, screaming. Guard #1 grabbed her as the arms disappeared from sight. He pointed down as he treaded water holding the girl. I grabbed her brother on the first dive. As I surfaced with him the two reinforcements arrived. We swam the boy to the beach. He was breathing on his own before we had him out of the water. He said his sister stepped in over her head and began drowning and he went after her. The catch was, he couldn’t swim a stroke but nothing was going to hurt his baby sister, he told me. All he could do was stand on the bottom and hold his sister out of the water. He had no idea we were on the way. Four lifeguards were awed by his audacity.

In three years as a commercial diver and almost twenty as a Gloucester fisherman, it is not that I have never seen such a display of selflessness and courage. It is that I’ve never heard of one without wondering if maybe God appears on earth from time to time and manifests Himself in this manner to show us that He really does exist. All it takes is some brilliant bastard like myself, who only took twenty years to figure out exactly what it was he witnessed that day and pass it on. Maybe it’s just that simple. It don’t take religion, it don’t take education, it don’t take philosophy or a strong belief in the hereafter. It sure don’t take using the word “God” five times in every sentence. Maybe it just takes the good luck to be a witness to, or the courage to be a part of, someone willing to die to save someone else. Someone willing to “lay down his life for his brother”. Perhaps every time one of these instances occurs the human race takes a little step farther on the evolutionary plane to wherever we are supposed to be evolving to. - Mark S. Williams

Thanks for reading.

Alternative Business in a Changing Economy

Nobody needs me to tell them that the economy is frightening right now. Just looking at the papers is enough to know that and, while heaven only knows where all of this will take us, there are a lot of folks who are starting now to think about alternative and/or additional sources of income. One of the things that is a big asset to many of these entrepreneurs is the internet.

I was thinking about this because my friend and client Leslie Wind told me something amazing recently. Leslie is a very talented jeweler/goldsmith who creates some of the most unique and innovative designs I've ever seen. She has supported herself as a goldsmith for nearly 40 years but she tells me that the internet has taken her to a new level. Back in April I suggested to Leslie that she try adding a PayPal shopping cart to her web site. She told me last week that her sales are up over 30% since we did that and, not only has she increased sales, but she has connected with a number of merchants who now carry her products. She has also begun teaching workshops making shawl pins and is traveling all over the place teaching --- all thanks to the internet.

Now let me add, Leslie is an ambitious marketer. Good for her. First we redesigned her web site to really show off her craftsmanship, then we added a blog to help her connect with potential customers, and then the shopping cart. Leslie works the internet, too. She calls it “mining the internet” and that's an excellent term. There is no denying that putting up a web site is just the beginning. If you have a web site that accurately reflects the quality of your service or product you are ahead of those whose sites are poorly thought out. But learning to think like a marketer --- who is my ideal customer? how can I reach them? what new markets can I cultivate? --- is a great way to approach your online time.

The majority of people, especially those under 50, use the internet to research services and products. One of the biggest businesses that depends on an internet presence for decision-making information is the wedding business. Florists, photographers, caterers, function halls, musicians, etc. etc. are researched in advance by today's brides over the internet before they make decisions. I have recently re-designed a number of web sites for wedding-related businesses to create a web presence that will specifically appeal to today's savvy, sophisticated brides-to-be. Two of these are Amore Photography (above) and Pepperberry Flowers (below)

It is these small, independent businesses that I find most creative and innovative. Artists and artisans, photographers, performers, merchants, crafts people are all learning ways to do their own marketing on the internet.

One area that is especially dear to my heart is the indies --- indy publishers, indy musicians, indy designers. They are doing amazing things. One of my favorite designers if Clare Higgins who loves cats and has created an adorable and clever set of cat-related art work products that she calls Modern Art Cats (left). She has setup a shop through Cafe Press and is selling all kinds of products with her designs on them. Carla Rey Lankford, a reader of this blog and a beautiful designer has a shop for her exquisite, dreamy designs (below) at Wednesday Wandered on Etsy. Others use Zazzle.

e-Publishing is all the rage. Ever since Amazon introduced Kindle other electronics developers have been scrambling to come up with something as clever. But e-books and reading materials can be downloaded to all sorts of hand-held devices and carried with their owners to be read and enjoyed whenever they have a few free minutes. You'll be hearing more about this in the weeks ahead.

So, I decided it was time I do a few things of my own. I have finally updated my gallery of web sites I've designed and have put them into a presentation on my Valentine-Design web site. This includes a Featured Web Site of the Month, and I've been adding to my blog about marketing tips, Marketing Musings by Valentine Designs.

These are challenging times, we all know that. But they can also be exciting and creative times. The truth is, no matter what happens, the world keeps turning, and it is up to each of us to decide how we face that. It's not always easy but it certainly can be interesting and even fun.

Thanks for reading.

Coffee and Canning Tips

Yesterday I was early for a meeting with a client at my favorite little local coffee shop and the place was packed. I got my coffee and then realized that every table was taken and everyone seemed settled in. What to do? Then I noticed someone sitting alone with his coffee and a muffin. He is a nice gentlemanly guy who used to own one of the big fishing boats here. We see each other around town and speak so I went over and asked if he would mind if I shared his table. He said he would be pleased to share. Thus began one of the most interesting half hours I have had in a long time.

He grew up in Sicily he told me and he still speaks with a heavy accent although he's been here for nearly sixty years. He came here in his early teens, married, bought a fishing boat and raised a family. He told me about what it was like to fish out of Gloucester back then --- quite and adventure and quite an opportunity for a young man with ambition to make something of himself. And that is what he most assuredly did. “I love America,” he told me, and, in the keeping of so many immigrants who come here in search of a better life, he has done well. “Here,” he said, “if you work, you can have whatever you want. I love to work.”

And work he does. After selling his boat a few years back he bought a new business here in town and that is going well also. And then there is the work at home.

“I just came back from a big farmer's market,” he said. “I bought 750 lbs. of tomatoes. My wife and our two daughters are canning sauce.”

SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY POUNDS!!!

“Yes,” he said. “Last year I bought 600 and it wasn't enough.”

So we talked about canning, a tradition that my family also practiced. I told him about making sauerkraut, a hundred gallons of sauerkraut at a time. He told me about the different sauces his wife makes and about the fresh, homemade pasta she makes at canning time for them to enjoy with the first batch. It was a wonderful conversation to have over breakfast.

My client arrived and he said he had to go, he had an appointment shortly and then he said, “Thank you for sitting with me.” Thank you for having me, I said. This was a treat.

When my client returned with her coffee I told her about our conversation. “Oh,” she said, “My husband just came back from the farmer's market with 150 lbs. of baby cucumbers. He loves to put up pickles.” I asked if she was from New York or Pennsylvania and she said yes, how did I know? You said “put up” pickles --- you never hear people say that around here. In Pennsylvania we put up pickles, too. Or put them by.

The world is a crazy place sometimes --- it moves too fast and often people seem so disconnected and alienated but it is mornings like that which serve to remind me that there are still wonderful moments to be had. Moments of sharing with someone new, moments off connecting, and of realizing that people on the whole might be a challenge but on an individual basis can be quite wonderful.

I guess as long as we can find time to share a cup of coffee and talk about the things and the people we love and swap a few recipes life will be okay. We just need to take the time.

Thanks for reading.

Helen Mirren's Date-Rape Story

When I first read the report about Helen Mirren's date-rape experiences I started shaking and I was horrified at the outrage and condemnation that was flung at her --- mostly by people who weren't even born at the time her rapes happened. Today we live in an era where there has been a lot of press about date-rape and both men and women know what it is, call it by name, and know that it is not acceptable. Men know that if they force themselves on a woman they are committing rape and women know that they have the right to say “no” and “no” means “no”. That's how things are now. But it hasn't always been so. This is a thing I know more about than I wish I did.

Helen Mirren is a few years older than I am but both of us were young and dating in a time when there were no laws to protect women from these situations. Not only were there no laws but chances were good that if you talked about them you were a.) told to shut up and b.) shamed and asked what you did to provoke it. This is also a thing I know more about than I wish I did. I think Mirren was very brave to be so honest and I understand her point of view given the era in which her rapes occurred. It would be different now if such a thing happened and she reported it but in the 1970s things were very, very different.

In 1972 I was 22 years old, just out of college, had my first job and my first apartment in a town a few miles from where I grew up. It was a fun time. One night a bunch of people were at my house and we were drinking and partying and having a great time. At some point people started leaving and I got up and went to bed. What I didn't realize was that there was someone still in the house. He had gone into the spare bedroom and fallen asleep on the floor. He wasn't someone I knew particularly well --- he hung around with our group but I actually found him kind of repulsive and stayed away from him. But, in the middle of the night, he woke up and you can fill in the blanks.

The worst part of the whole thing was that I was so ashamed. I was mortified that people would find out he had had sex with me, I was humiliated that he would tell people. I had hit him and punched him and tried to get him to stop but he wouldn't. It was awful. When I told someone I thought it was safe to tell the first thing she said was, “What did you do to get him all riled up?” the second thing she said was, “Well, that's what you get for being drunk.”

I never saw him again after that. I went back to college a year later and then had a different group of friends. I don't know what happened to him but I still get slightly nauseous at the thought of him.

The second time was a few years later. I had met a guy and had been on a few dates with him. We were at the necking stage but I wasn't sure I wanted more than that. One night when he brought me home after a date he asked if he could use the bathroom. He was a very big man and I was attracted to him and kissing him was nice. But then he wouldn't stop. And that was where I stopped having a say in the matter. I never went out with him again after that. I confronted him and I used the word “rape” but he laughed at me and said, “You wanted it, I could tell.” And then he said, “Nobody would believe you weren't asking for it.” I never told anyone --- I was too ashamed.

What would have happened in 1972 and 1976 if I had tried to go to the police? It was a small town. Every one knew everyone. Everyone talked about everyone. I had a a lot of family and I was scared to death my parents would find out. They would be furious and embarrassed and I can assure you it would have been my fault. This is what all those young feminists who are furious with Helen Mirren don't understand. They live in a world where it is commonly understood that a woman has a right to say “no”. Helen Mirren and I did not live in that world. And we did not live in a world where we would not have been shamed and despised and told we were sluts who were asking for it if we had told our stories. That's how things were back then.

It's easy to get all high and mighty and self-righteous about things you know nothing about. I admire Dame Helen for having the courage to say what she did. If her ideas are old-fashioned it is because she is, well, like me, old enough to have lived in an era where such ideas weren't irresponsible --- quite the opposite. They were the only way to retain some sense of dignity. Now, as I am not too many years from sixty myself I can be brave and tell my story too. But there was a time when I couldn't --- and I remember all too well the shame and humiliation of that time. Don't shame us twice for reacting like we did, you young feminists, you didn't live with what we lived with.

Thanks for reading.

Comments from Stan Stone on the Daniel vs. Defonseca/Lee Hearing

Order BESTSELLER! by Jane Daniel at Laughing Gull Press.

Stan Stone, a member of the Hovey House Witer's Group and the author of the blog, On the Cove, attended the hearing last Thursday and posted some very insightful comments on a message board where the case was being discussed. I thought they were worth posting here for an additional perspective:

I was at the hearing on Thursday (I ended up sitting on the Misha side, kinda like a wedding). It was very unfortunate that the judge had not read the supporting casework of Daniel's attorney regarding Mass Rules of Civil Procedure, Rule 60, Relief from Judgment.

Mass Rules of Civil Procedure

RULE 60.

RELIEF FROM JUDGMENT OR ORDER

(a) Clerical Mistakes. Clerical mistakes in judgments, orders or other parts of the record and errors therein arising from oversight or omission may be corrected by the court at any time of its own initiative or on the motion of any party and after such notice, if any, as the court orders. During the pendency of an appeal, such mistakes may be so corrected before the appeal is docketed in the appellate court, and thereafter while the appeal is pending may be so corrected with leave of the appellate court.

(b) Mistake; Inadvertence; Excusable Neglect; Newly Discovered Evidence; Fraud, etc. On motion and upon such terms as are just, the court may relieve a party or his legal representative from a final judgment, order, or proceeding for the following reasons: (1) mistake, inadvertence, surprise, or excusable neglect; (2) newly discovered evidence which by due diligence could not have been discovered in time to move for a new trial under Rule 59(b); (3) fraud (whether heretofore denominated intrinsic or extrinsic), misrepresentation, or other misconduct of an adverse party; (4) the judgment is void; (5) the judgment has been satisfied, released, or discharged, or a prior judgment upon which it is based has been reversed or otherwise vacated, or it is no longer equitable that the judgment should have prospective application; or (6) any other reason justifying relief from the operation of the judgment. The motion shall be made within a reasonable time, and for reasons (1), (2), and (3) not more than one year after the judgment, order or proceeding was entered or taken. A motion under this subdivision (b) does not affect the finality of a judgment or suspend its operation. This rule does not limit the power of a court to entertain an independent action to relieve a party from a judgment, order, or proceeding, or to set aside a judgment for fraud upon the court. Writs of review, of error, of audita querela, and petitions to vacate judgment are abolished, and the procedure for obtaining any relief from a judgment shall be by motion as prescribed in these rules or by an independent action.

You can see that Mass.R.Civ.P. 60(b)(6) is not bound by the one year limitation--it give the courts a way of rectifying egegious judgements. Since Defonseca's own admission that her story completely false only happened in February of this year, the request for relief comes in a reasonable period of time.

Earlier comments in this thread indicate that the judge and jury found Daniel to be guilty, so that must be the truth. One would hope in normal circumstances that the court systems "finds the truth", but it is quite obvious that Defonseca completely fooled everyone. I use fooled graciously here--she is a pathological liar. Establishing herself as a holocaust survivor that was being cheated by an unscrupulous publisher gained her the sympathy of the court, and lessened the level of proof she needed for her case. I believe that Vera Lee benefited from this situation--that Daniel was completely vilified an therefore must be guilty of cheating Lee too.

One of the damning points of Defonseca's case was that Daniel set up an off-shore account to hide the money. I think when anyone hears "off-shore account" they immediately think of hiding assets and nefarious doings, but in this case, it was a legitimate business practice to manage how profits are brought into this country from foreign sales (which came from selling the foreign language rights of the book). It is a legitimate business practice, but foreign to most of us who do not have foreign profits. If you have suspicions about a person, then an off-shore account sounds pretty shady.

From documented evidence (not hearsay) we know that Defonseca was not in dire financial straights as she claimed. She and her husband were con artists of the highest level. For Lee to benefit from their fraud is a travisty.

You have to remember that the copyright of the book was taken from Mt. Ivy press and given back to Defonseca (normally the publisher retains the copyright while the book is in print). All of the profits that were made from the book should have gone to Mt. Ivy press and Defonseca would have been paid royalties--as stated in the standard publishing contract she signed. Not only was Mt. Ivy press deprived of the profits, Daniel was deprived of her inheritance from her father in the settlement. Her house is essentially owned by the attorney of Lee (she can remain there until it is sold). This judgement was based on the fraud Defonseca purpurtrated on the court as she represented herself.

I hope that Daniel prevails in having the judgement relieved--instead of just being taken by a very skillful con artist, she was sued in court who was awarded one of the largest judgements in Massachusetts history (now that's a con artist extraordiaire). I hope there is some justice found in this case. Defonseca not only caused extreme harm to Daniel (Daniel spent a night in Norfork prison for her inability to make restitution payments), but a mocky of the court. Pray this never happens to you.

- Stan Stone

________________________________________________________

This case is drawing a lot of attention all over the country and the world. Serge Aroles, the French physician and expert on feral children, has sent me a couple of articles from French periodicals discussing the case. The conventional wisdom is that Defonseca's next tactic will be to put forth the suggestion that she is a victim of Recovered Memory Syndrome and that the entire store was something she only recently came to realize is not true. However on August 6, 1998 she knew what her mother's maiden name was, and knew her date and place of birth because she signed a bank card with that information written on it. It is posted on the BESTSELLER blog.

Here in Massachusetts both Mass Lawyers Weekly and New England Law Journal have expressed an interest in doing articles about the case. It is receiving a lot of much deserved attention. The big question --- as previously stated --- is this: Will the Commonwealth of Massachusetts vacate the judgment because it was based on fraud and perjury or will Defonseca get away with her deception? Stay tuned.

Thanks for reading.

Gloucester's Annual Schooner Races

This weekend Gloucester was host to the annual Schooner Festival. Our good friend Jay Albert at Cape Ann Images as incredible photos. I'm trying to talk Jay into doing a calendar or even a book of his incredible photography of boats. He is the photographer who contributed over a dozen images of Gloucester fishing boats to the new version of Mark's book, F/V Black Sheep. I'll shut up and let you go look at Jay's incredible work.

Thanks for reading.