A Recipe For Thin Skin


This is my Encyclopedia of 5,000 Spells.
I picked it up with a few other books while visiting New Orleans some years ago.
At the time I was excited about a novel I was planning to write and this was to be my black magic reference book.
The premise of my story was about a missing person and a low rent loveable detective who gets summoned to travel to Jamaica, by a beautiful spirit woman, Pearlina, who shows up on his doorstep on a sunny afternoon.
Johnson Toast and his annoying, slutty, sister make the trip from the United States for a large sum of money that was promised by Pearlina, who has Johnson under her spell of natural beauty. Johnson's sister hops on board because she is after a white sand beach vacation and fancy umbrella drinks.
I did not get much further than mid flight when I dropped the project.

5000-spells-2

That is when I discovered that not only did I not possess the imagination, knowledge or chutzpah that it takes to write a novel, I was also scared to death of my stack of voodoo books.
They gave me the heebie jeebies.
Previous to tossing out the Jamaica file, I was sending queries to many agencies for a finished manuscript of a story I had written containing a love story and a serial killer.
I had a glimmer of hope when it was not immediately tossed into the slush pile of one publishing company. Instead I received a request for the rest of the manuscript.
But shortly after that a sweet Dear John letter landed in my mailbox.
This occurred a few days before my dad died.
My dad's death catapulted me into the imaginary world of Millie Noe.
She is how I managed to live through it all.
In 2016 Millie Noe self published, Millie Noe for President, a book of short humorous stories.
Other than all the fun and excitement my technically challenged friend and I had trying to make the cover, and my other punctuation friend with all of her proof reading, and my cousin at the helm, dropping my pictures and words into the lay out, and my mom cheerleading from her living room, it went nowhere.
I guess I needed a marketing department.
But even if I'd had publicity, the book was not worth the loan one would have to take out to buy it at the lowest price I could give it on Amazon, in order to make zero profit.
Admittedly there were too many fucks scattered through out my book to even place in a dentist office waiting room.
Perhaps I should have listened to Giselle.
She is not always wrong.
But once a writer always a writer.
It is not something that can just be turned off.
These days I write about pretty much nothing, because as the saying goes, know what you write and write what you know.
It is much like turning your lemons into vodka lemonades.
Make the most of what you have got.
So my stories are about getting old, the zoo I live in and leaves falling from trees.
Wherever my mind travels when I sit down with a cup of coffee is what comes out the tips of my fingers.
I then post my words here in outer space for you to stumble upon and possibly laugh.
I could not agree with you anymore than I already do.
My calling is very weird.
But it is my calling.
That is why I forage on.
It is also why I am paging through this encyclopedia of 5000 spells.
There must be a recipe in here that will thicken one's skin.
Hang on.
Oh jeez.
Well, damn it to hell.
There is not even one for smooth skin.
It doesn't matter.
If I were able to find a skin thickening recipe, I am sure I would not have all that it calls for in my cupboards.
Nor would I be able to find everything at the Pig.
I cannot even pronounce half the ingredients listed.
Yikes.
It says in here that evil often accumulates behind doors that are held ajar with a stopper.
I always keep this door ajar with a stopper on account of that night it slammed shut on me, all by itself and I could not get in. I do not want it slamming shut on me while I am sitting here.
I will definitely lose my shit if that happens.
Time for me to put this scary ass book back on the shelf.
I shall just have to carry on through out life with this wrinkly, old, thin, skin of mine and make due.
Just like everybody else.

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