Top Ten List

The Top Ten reasons I haven't been posting as often as I should:

10. There are two movie posters I have to design and complete printing on a catalogue by October 30. One poster is for Beyond Loch Ness. I did my required two comps and then realized the second one was eerily similar to another design I had done for the same company a couple of years ago (although I have no idea what movie). The second one is Termination Point with Jason Priestley and Lou Diamond Phillips. I haven't finished that one yet - even though it's due tomorrow - because they sent 5 DVDs of stills for me to wade through. That's about 3000 photos, mostly repetitive. Aack!

9. Take tomorrow's schedule, for instance...(a) drop car off to the mechanics (last time I took it in was 15,000 miles ago...oops), (b) pick up rental car, (c) drop an advance copy of the book to my publicist, (d) stop by photo lab doing the prints for the gallery shows and tell them I don't like the test printings and discuss the possibly of them just doing the color but on a different paper, (e) stop by two other labs to discuss the possibilities of them doing the black and white prints (old school style) for the gallery shows, (f) call scanner dude and see if he can whip out two large prints for a TV show I'm taping on Wednesday (even though they're in the midst of moving to a new building), (g) make an in-person sales call on Virgin, (h) make another stop to pick up my tickets for the Elizabeth: The golden Age premiere, (i) get back to the office to do the regular work.

8. Read my book in preparation for a Tuesday morning radio interview. It's for the Young & Verna show and will be geared to the country people in the book, but the guy that's interviewing me also wants to do a second interview geared to the rock musicians as well. I think it all goes through Westwood One and the interview[s] could end up on hundreds (300 - 500) of radio stations, including the Armed Forces radio. No idea when and where it's going to air, but if anybody happens to hear me on the radio please let me know when, where, and on what show.

7. Prepare for the TV interview on Wednesday. I'll be on Joan Quinn Profiles. It's a national cable show and important because it's not only a respected author interview show with the die hard book-buying public but we will also use the tape to show that I don't look and sound like a complete dufus on TV. Problem is, it's a small show so I have to provide the show and tell - blow-up prints for the set and mounted pages from the book that Joan can hold up as I talk about the book. And there's no make-up person so I have to find someone. And I have to mentally prepare just like I do for every interview.

6. Thursday morning I am flying out of Burbank to Seattle, picking up a rental car and driving up to Vancouver. Why wouldn't I just fly right into Vancouver, you ask? My Canadian passport renewal is still being processed (watch...it will arrive in my mailbox on Wednesday) and as of tomorrow, October 1st you cannot fly to and from Canada without a passport. However, you can drive across with a driver's license and green card. Go figure.

5. Thursday and Friday will be spent hunting down a gallery or space I can rent and turn into a gallery for my show. This is last minute because I just found out the gallery I will be showing at in L.A. can't do my opening until at least mid-November. So, I've decided to try and launch the book with a blow-out party in Vancouver, where about 85% of the pictures in the book were taken.

4. Also on Thursday, Friday and Saturday I hope to catch up with the record reps (now all doing other things) that I worked for up there and haven't seen in a million years. Oh yeah, and also line up some publicity and meet the sales reps that work for my Canadian distributor.

3. I will return to L.A. on Sunday evening and catch up on all the work I missed while away (hopefully most of it will be taken care of by my trusty assistant that came on board a week ago) and finish up the movie art before I leave for Austin, Texas at 7am on Wednesday morning.

2. I will spend five days in Austin attend the Austin Film Festival (aka drinking in the Driskill bar) and also doing whatever I can to pimp my book. I have a couple of meet and greets lined up and am trying to get a meeting with the SXSW folks in hopes of doing a gallery show during their festival in March '08 (anybody reading this have a direct connection to the top people at SXSW?). Would also like to do some press while there.

1. All the other stuff I have to do that should have been done yesterday...or last week...or last month...things that don't have a specific deadline, including but not limited to getting in touch with more family members of the musicians in the book, contacting associated record companies, move on our online campaign, create a pitch for something to do with the book that I can't tell you about...and...breathe.

Okay, that wore me out. G'night.

The Book

As you all know, I received an advance shipment of fifty books on Monday.

Thought you all might like to see it. Here are the boxes that arrived via FedEx from Hong Kong:
And here they all are lined up in the bookshelf:
But they didn't stay long...33 of the 50 books immediately went out on request to some major media mavens, such as Newsweek, People, Rolling Stone and Entertainment Weekly. Hopefully, all who requested books will write something cool, and not just give it away as a Christmas present.

Oh, and one went out to an entertainment executive interested in something to do with the book that I can't talk about yet. But I can say it garnered my first written review via email:
"The book is fucking gorgeous. Congratulations! J."

I think I'll just leave it at that.

Holder Tonight

Here is the radio interview that I did on Holder Tonight out of Montreal on September 18, 2007.

Hopefully it works without too many glitches. Not sure how long it runs or if they left in the commercial break. I do know it takes a while to load...you might want to make coffee (or a margarita) while it's loading. Once it's fully loaded you can skip back and forth. And come to think of it, if you're fully loaded it might sound really good.

If you get through the whole thing feel free to comment.



Stay tuned... More interviews and press to come.

Monday, Monday

Once again I have been remiss in keeping up with the blog. I suppose most of you think I've been basking in the glamor of my impending book release...doing interviews...hanging with the Hollywood legends...turning down lunch invitations...lounging by the pool...drinking margaritas...

...if only.

I was remiss in keeping up with the blog because I was labeling, stamping, stuffing, sorting and bundling 1700+ envelopes with Everybody I Shot Is Dead brochures. What a freaking nightmare! The mailing went out to independent bookstores and record stores throughout the U.S. to let them know about the book and that it is available to order from my wholesalers. It sounded easy enough before I/we (I had a part time helper) started. I mean, how hard could a 1700+ mailing be? I took a two-hour required class at the post office to learn the ins and outs of doing a bulk mailing...and as it turned out, sorting the envelopes to meet the requirements that saved 46¢ on each piece mailed was the easy part. It was the sticking of the address labels, return address labels, stamps, inserting the brochures, removing the flap backing and sealing the envelopes that was the bitch.

I managed to get to the point where I could return label and stamp 30 envelopes in 4 minutes. That would have been about 4 and a half hours of work (well, quadruple that to include addressing and stuffing) for the whole shebang providing I could keep up that pace. Which I couldn't. Unless I wanted to develop a severe case of carpel tunnel. Anyway, the job seemed to go on forever and I was never so happy as when I dropped the final 12 sacks of envelopes off at the post office. Hopefully, enough stores will order and sell enough books to make the whole exercise worthwhile.

Alright. Enough about that...it's over...forgotten...and not what this post was meant to be about. This post is about tomorrow. MONDAY. I believe I have written about Mondays in the past. Mainly about how I don't like Mondays. How I never seem to get positive results to anything I try to do on Mondays. Anything that requires dealing with other people. I believe it's because everyone hates Mondays. Maybe because it's the beginning of another whole 5 days of work (which is meaningless to me since I generally work all seven). Or maybe because people have trouble shaking the residue of the weekend (which is meaningless to me since I am rarely bestowed with weekend residue). Or maybe their football team lost, setting a negative mood for the start of the work week (okay, I do watch a little college football but since I didn't graduate from college I don't have a team). Whatever the reason, several months back I decided never to schedule important things on Mondays. I never set important meetings on Mondays and I never make important phone calls where I am in need of a favorable response on Mondays. I just don't do it. Why take the chance?

Any of you ever hear the phrase "never say never"?

There is something important scheduled for tomorrow - MONDAY - that I had no say in scheduling. Something I cannot change. It has to happen tomorrow. Nothing I can do about it. Except HOPE. And I am hoping. Hoping beyond all hope that this particular something won't fall into the Monday Negative Abyss where all things go wrong category. Where I am denied what I want only because I wanted it on the day called Monday.

This Monday...September 24th, 2007...is the day I am receiving the advance copies of Everybody I Shot Is Dead. The actual printed and bound copies sent directly from the printer in China. Tomorrow - MONDAY - is the first time I will gaze upon, touch and turn the pages of an actual finished copy of the book that has been two years in the making. And I have to look at it and approve it so they will ship the rest of the 9,950 books on the hopefully-not-so-slow boat from China. Why couldn't they have sent it out Thursday so that it could have arrived on the beautiful day known as Friday? Why does it have to come on MONDAY? Why? Why? Why?

Wait a second. Nevermind. It's all going to work out. I got it. Since I haven't heard directly from any of the 48 musicians in my book lately, I have to assume they have been in China these past two months overseeing the printing and making sure the book turned out perfect. That makes sense, right? And then they all flew back on the FedEx plane with the books and are now on the FedEx truck hovering around the six or so cases, making sure they arrive safely on my doorstep...fighting the evil Monday goblins all the way. Right? This is excellent. I'm fine now.

The book will be perfect.

The book will be perfect.

The book will be perfect.

Legends

Edit: 9/18/07

Okay...Julie Newmar, Jack Klugman and Rose Marie have been identified.

I know I said you didn't have to name Alison (the blonde in the print dress) but I changed my mind. 'Cause she's actually pretty famous too. You have her first name already. And I'll give you one more hint: think long running television series that began in 1974.

And if you can come up with what these four legends and I all have in common, you'll get extra brownie points. Hint: The event was a book signing for Jack Klugman's book, "Tony and Me."

As soon as someone names the legends in this picture I will tell you the story behind it:

Now I gotta go be on the radio.

Back On The Radio

This coming Tuesday night/Wednesday morning I will be interviewed on Holder Tonight which broadcasts from Montreal on CJAD and CFRB in Toronto.

But thanks to modern technology, EVERYBODY GETS TO LISTEN online here.

The show airs midnight - 3AM EST.

I will be on at 1:30AM EST. Which for my neighbors here in California is the more civilized 10:30PM PST.

But I really hope my East Coast readers will go the distance and stay up.

The show's host, Peter Anthony Holder, does do call-ins on his show but I'm not sure if he's taking calls with me. I'd love it if he would because it would be so cool to hear the voices of my blog readers!

But even if they don't take calls, please tune in.

'Cause there will be a quiz the following day.

Surprise, Surprise, Surprise...

A USA Today headline:

Not just cliche: Rock stars more likely to die young

It's true. And there's a UK research study that has the scientific research to prove it.

You can read the layman's version at any one of these million google links.

If you want to check out the actual research paper you can download it here.

Me? Well, I immediately emailed my publicist to see how we can parlay this widespread news into publicity for Everybody I Shot Is Dead. I also emailed the main author of the paper to let him know that I'm pretty sure my book will confirm his findings...but with pictures and stories instead of charts and graphs.

Now I am sitting here wishing this story broke closer to the release of my book, but also hoping the news of my book will cast as wide of a net.

I'm doing all the work necessary toward that end.

And crossing my fingers, just in case.

In The Jungle Known As Amazon

Look what they've done to my book:

37% off the already reasonably low retail price. And you can even qualify for free shipping. Those evil bastards. Don't they realize my book is worth so much more?

Okay. I'm kidding. As those of you who read this little blog regularly already know, I knew they were going to do this. That's why I priced the book at $60 instead of my original idea of $50-55. That's also why I offered the even lower price briefly on my website. Sure, I didn't give you free shipping (Amazon is far richer than I, unless I win the $330M megalotto tonight and the $93M superlotto tomorrow) but the books from Amazon are not signed by moi. That's gotta be worth something, right?

So, for those of you who want the book but don't want to shell out the extra $s for my autograph, run (don't walk) over to Amazon. and put in your order for several copies. And those who purchased off my site, feel free to complete your Christmas shopping early HERE.

Popping My Ebay Cherry

That's right, folks. I am no longer an Ebay virgin.

The foreplay started last Saturday when I got it in my head that I should replace all the lost/stolen camera equipment that I had when I shot all the photos in Everybody I Shot Is Dead. Yup. I'm either really sentimental (affirmative) or completely crazy (the jury's still out on that one). And the nutty reason I'm hell-bent on re-buying my original cameras is because I want to shoot concerts again and I want the pictures to be as good as the ones I shot way back when. Okay, the jury's back in... that's an affirmative on the completely crazy part.

Anyway, imagine my shock and delight when I found many vintage Pentax cameras available on Ebay. And I found one - a Spotmatic II - that matched one of my cameras, including several lens. Even though it wasn't closing for several days, I bid on it. It was the one I really wanted. In the meantime, there was an awesome-looking 200 mm telephoto lens that I wanted. I bid on that one but finally chickened out near the end as the price went a little higher than I wanted to pay, especially since I didn't even have a camera yet.

Then I bid on another camera and on Sunday, Aug 26, 2007 at 18:51:23 PDT I won it for a whopping (note intense sarcasm here) $51.00. Meet my new camera:


Notice the small dent on the left side of the lens ring? I swear to God one of my original cameras had that exact dent on the same lens.

Since Sunday, I've been an Ebay whore. Watching and bidding on some camera equipment and kicking as many others to the curb. All the while waiting for my first love to arrive. My very first bid. The one that I placed a maximum bid on last Saturday of $100. Fast forward to this afternoon... Aug-30-07 15:39:22 PDT to be exact... I was suddenly outbid bid by $5... then $10 with nearly 4 hours still left on the bidding. Was I going to lose my first love? The same camera I used to capture my sweet dead musicians in their glory days.? The musicians that I have lived with 24/7 for the past two years? Oh, the horror of it.

Not wanting to look desperate (in the world of rock'n'roll desperate girls are very unattractive), I slyly waited until 18:58:48 PDT (note that's over 3 hours of feigning non-desperation) to up my maximum bid to $120. A bid which held all of 6 minutes when I decided I better raise my maximum to $175. Not looking good with nearly 20 minutes left. These two last minute snakes in the grass were nipping at my ankles and seemed prepared to take me down. At 19:11:03 PDT, my bid hit my maximum so I quickly upped it $200. No way was I going to let those piranhas near my first love.

At this point I kept my browser open and refreshed the page every minute or two. YES!! My $175 bid was holding. The two poisonous snakes had slithered away. The clock ticked down. And down. Only two minutes to go. I was home free. Surely I would win my first Ebay love. I refreshed the page once more...

What the fuck? Who the hell is Glittergrl123? And why did she just bid $179.91 at 19:24:43 PDT, a mere 23 seconds before the close... refresh... Oh My God she upped it to $191.09 sixteen seconds later. Fuck, she's going to beat my $200 bid. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I scramble to add another $2o to my max bid. Did I make it in time? The seconds tick down. I have no idea what just happened. I hit the refresh button one more time. Dammit, I'm going to hunt Glittergrl123 down and punch her in the face. How dare she come in at the last minute and tear my first love right out of my arms. Fuck her!

Wait... wait a second... the window refreshed. The winning bid was $193.59. Posted 9 seconds before the close. I won... what?... Holy shit... I WON!!!

Here is my first Ebay love with whom I shall live happily ever after, complete with all that extra stuff, exactly as it was way back when:





Go ahead. Call me crazy. I couldn't care less.

Blog Slacker

Sorry for my blatant blog slackerness. It's not intentional. Nor is it due to the fact that I have nothing to say. I have plenty to say. But with the blog thing it has a lot to do with headspace and feel. I have been working on a very special post for the past few days. Don't know why it's taking me so long. It just has. And I also have a lot of things that are inches away from disclosing but not quite there yet.

In the meantime, I am not dead. Although I could be. Maybe I should check the obits. What I have been doing is a bunch of business-type stuff. Getting my distribution in order. Fixing all the glitches with my wholesaler. Ordering the 1900 bookstore mailing list from the ABA (American Booksellers Association) so I can send out a brochure to all the independent bookstores so they will know to order the book. Looking for galleries.

And then of course, today was Monday. I don't like Mondays. Have I mentioned that before? No matter how prepared I am for the day, it is always my worst day to do outside-of-my-own-brain-business. After last Monday (not that anything specifically tragic happened that day), I decided I will not make any calls of consequence on Mondays because they never work out in my favor. I don't know if it's me or the rest of the people in the world but I have to assume it's them because I've tried to get stuff done on the Mondays where I feel on top of the world but the result is always the same.

So, Monday is now my day to take care of my personal shit. And my current personal project is moving. Well, I'm not actually moving...it just feels like it. I am currently completely switching up two rooms in my house. I've temporarily moved my bedroom to my second office/guest room and the second office is moving to what was my bedroom and will be just an office. I've got one family member who is moving to New York on Wednesday and freeing up the master suite at the back of the house. Once I redo the bathroom and the flooring in that room, I will move myself back there and my new temporary bedroom will become my full time guest room.

I really need the second dedicated office because I am going to hire an assistant in the next few weeks. And I also have to empty my garage in preparation for receiving a portion of the book shipment. A lot of what's in the garage will be going in the second office. Confused? I am. But I can't wait until I am completely organized. I am so sick of spending/wasting time looking for things. Soon it will be "a place for everything and everything in its place."

My Dad

This post should have been written on August 18th so let's just pretend for a moment that today is Saturday. Wouldn't you like to have the weekend back?


Meet my dad. Cecil Chesher. He looks rather presidential, don't you think? And he was a president at least two times that I know of... when I was a baby he was president of the Calgary Stampeders (that's a professional football team in Canada for those of you scratching your heads), and he was president of his own company.

He was born in the very small town of Petrolia, Ontario and was an only child. His parents, George and Arlie, were of modest means. I never met my grandfather but Arlie was a fixture in our house throughout my childhood. She would arrive from Eastern Canada in early October for Christmas and would sometimes stay until Easter. I didn't mind. She made the best homemade bread and cinnamon buns in the Universe. She also taught us to play canasta and told really good stories.

My dad graduated from the University of Toronto with a degree in geological engineering when he was only eighteen. Yes, he was some sort of genius. He also had a knack of knowing where to drill for oil. While working for Shell he found the Jumping Pound Creek wells, which was a pretty big thing at the time (many, many years before I landed on the planet) and has even written up in a book or two. Whoa... I just came across this poster online at the Petroleum History Society that mentions my dad's accomplishments with regards to that find.


Wow, he would have only been in his early twenties when he accomplished that little feat and many years away from even meeting my mother. You can click on the poster if you want read the science-speak that my brain cells can't decipher.

He later started his own oil company and was also on the board of directors of an oil company based in Southern California. Thanks to that, I got my first taste of California as a kid. But you'll read a little more about that in my book so I won't spoil it for you here. My dad was also one of the founders of The Petroleum Club in Calgary. It was an upscale private club aimed at members of the oil community. I remember going there for dinner as a kid - getting all dressed up and feeling like we were dining with the Queen. They always had a jazz band playing and my dad would let me stand on his feet as he glided the two of us around the dance floor.

All the fun and fancy times ended around the time my parents split up when I was twelve. It was a bit messy as these things often are, but I was still able to see my dad on a regular basis and he was always there for me when I needed him. He was the one who taught me that if I wanted something done right I would have to do it myself. It was a great lesson that made me the independent person I am, but on the other hand it became so etched in my being that I am now just learning that it's okay to ask for help.

When I moved to Los Angeles in August of 1975, my dad was still living in Calgary but he also had a house in Palm Desert. I was struggling beyond belief when I first arrived in L.A. Shooting bands wasn't the problem. I just couldn't have a 'real' job here to support my photography while I was getting established because I didn't have a green card. But being instilled with way too much pride, I didn't have it in me to call my dad and ask for his help. He probably wouldn't have helped anyway... he wasn't the type of dad to give hand-outs.

Finally, in late September I somehow got booked to shoot an Australian band, Ayer's Rock, while they were recording at the Record Plant. The shoot would pay me enough money to cover a few bills and cover my gas to Palm Desert so I could visit my dad and pretend I was doing fine. I made arrangements with him to drive over the following weekend. It was perfect timing. His wife was going back to Calgary so we planned to spend the weekend alone, just catching up and reconnecting.

It was early Friday afternoon and I was sitting in the reception area of the Concerts West offices on Sunset Boulevard. I was waiting to see the main guy who I'd been trying to get an appointment with for two months. I had shot lots of shows they had promoted in the Pacific Northwest and I wanted to show them my pictures in hopes of them letting me shoot their shows in L.A. I planned to drive to the desert right after the appointment. I figured if I could bring my dad good news from the meeting and the Ayer's Rock job, he would give me advice on making my photography business work in L.A. Maybe I could even get him to invest. (An investment proposal would at least be a couple of rungs up from asking for a hand-out.)

So, there I sat, eavesdropping on everything the Concerts West receptionist said to the multitude of callers that rang in while I waited to see the big cheese...when suddenly my pager went off. I had a pager because I didn't have a home phone. Actually, I didn't even have a home. I was crashing wherever I could. And of course this was before cell phones were in every hand of the general public. As quickly as I hit the beeper button, my pager would go off again. And again. And again. What the hell... my pager would go days without beeping and suddenly I was the most popular girl on the block.

The receptionist looked at me and asked if I needed to use the phone. I didn't really want to call in for my message before the meeting - I wanted to stay focused - but she looked insistent so I picked up the phone and dialed. I had somewhere around ten messages. For some reason my pager hadn't been beeping all day. Until right before what I thought was the most important meeting of my life. I began listening to the messages. They were all from members of my family. My mother. My brothers. My sisters. Some of them had called more than once. None of them left me a message other than to call them back. There was only one member of my family that hadn't called. My dad.

The girl behind the desk couldn't help but notice the glazed look on my face when I hung up and asked if I could make one more call. I phoned my brother in Calgary and got the news I expected. My dad was dead. About the time I hung up the phone and tried to regain my composure, the big cheese emerged from his office. Both he and the receptionist saw there was something terribly wrong, so I had no choice but to tell them my dad had died. They offered to reschedule the meeting. I said no, I was fine to go ahead with it. In my head I was thinking about how long it had taken me to get the meeting. And my dad had also taught me pragmatism. He would have wanted me to go through with the meeting. What I didn't realize was that it was more uncomfortable for them than it was for me. I should have rescheduled.

Anyway, I ended up going to the desert that weekend but not before I picked up my brother at LAX. My other brother was already there. The three of us spent the weekend talking about our dad. And we had a few ghostly experiences - stories that I'll save for another time.

I guess you're wondering why the hell I'm writing all this personal stuff about my dad. First of all, it was his birthday on Saturday. But mostly, I thought you should get to know him. Because if it weren't for my dad, Everybody I Shot Is Dead would not be coming out this Fall. You see, my dad left a rather unorthodox will. It's a bit complicated and there's no reason to go into detail other than to say that I received my remaining share a couple of years ago. I put it away as the seed money to build my nest egg on, swearing I would never touch it.

I actually had no intention of publishing this book myself, but I reconsidered after I read through my journals and relived the torture of all the meetings I had with the big NY houses before I decided to publish Starart. Then, as I walked by my dad's picture that hangs on the wall between my living and dining rooms, a thought washed over my mind. I should check and see how much this book is going to cost to print, knowing full well that there was no way I could afford to do it...especially the way I wanted it.

Still, I figured there was no harm in checking. Remember what my dad always told me: if you want something done right... So, I went to a bookstore and scoured all the books that lived up to my quality standards. I found a printer and submitted the specs for an estimate. Turns out my dad's money was the exact amount I needed to print the book. What are the chances of that? I took that as a sign. That, and the fact that taking pictures of rock stars was the one thing he knew I was doing. Oh yeah, and he paid for my camera. And now I can't help thinking that's exactly how it was supposed to be. It just seems fitting that my dead father is financing my dead rock star book. Making it possible for me to honor these fine musicians. I just hope he knows I am also honoring him.

Thanks, dad. And Happy (Belated) Birthday.

OZalid

Friday, August 17, 2007 - 9:55am

I opened the door before he had a chance to knock. I had been waiting for him. And I heard his truck grind to a stop in front of my house.

He was slightly startled when I appeared on the porch. I smiled at him, "I guess you didn't know I was waiting for you." That remark flustered him speechless. He quickly handed off a package to me and thrust his hand-held for me to sign.

I scurried back into my room and placed the package on my bed. Even though I was anxious to open it, I didn't. This was a monumentous occasion. And I had decided the day before that I would not look at it at home. So I quickly pulled myself together - just enough for public toleration - and with package and one set of wet proofs in hand, headed off to one of my frequently frequented Starbucks®.

These days it's fun to look at all things book in a public venue because I get to feel the curious eyes ogling my wares and hear the wheels turning in their brains as they try to figure out what the heck I'm doing. So far I've had my full size double=spread sheets out, either showing someone I'm meeting or looking through them when I was making corrections. On one such occasion, I was at one table showing the wet proofs to a friend of mine and Scott was several tables over with another set of wet proofs checking for more typos.

But on Friday it was just me. I had a set of wet proofs with me but what I focused on this time was what was in the package. The final ozalid from the printers.

The Front Cover

The final ozalid is the complete book printed out just as it will be in the final book, the pages printed on both sides and each form stapled together the same way they will be sewn together and bound into the hardcover. And, as you can see, the ozalid is blue. The ozalid is the last thing I look at and approve before the printer runs the real sheets and binds the books. The oxalid is also the first time I get to turn each page and see the book in order.

There they were. Page after page after page. All my sweet musicians coming to life after seven and a half months of solid labor. I wasn't expecting what happened next but at the same time I wasn't surprised.

I cried.

Even though the ozalid is blue and funky looking, it was still my baby[ies]. And it/they were beautiful. I looked through it three or four times. I made sure all the pages were where they belonged. I checked all the page numbers. I made sure the pictures hadn't moved and none of the captions had disappeared. What I didn't do was read the text. I knew if I read it I would find something I wanted to change. Every writer would. It's just the nature of the beast. And making a change at this point would take the book out of its printing rotation and delay my delivery by at least a week. That would be the kiss of death. Besides, I know nothing is perfect and I will be proud of every imperfection that rears it's ugly head...I will embrace every typo that got away and I will relish each and every grammatical mistake...then I'll fix them all before the second printing. (God I hope there's a second printing).

This is the inside cover that is laminated to the hard casing.

This shows all the parts of the jacket that will have a UV spot gloss.
The black background on the jacket will have a matte finish.

The forms. There are 16 pages per form and 13 forms in all.

The first two pages of Michael Bloomfield's section.

After the fourth check to make sure my baby had all its fingers and toes, I called the printers and said, "PRINT!!!! PRINT!!!! PRINT!!!!" As you read this, the pages are most likely running through the press. That's 2,080,000 pages. 4,160,000 pictures.

The next package that arrives on my doorstep will be a box of advance copies... the first time I will see the finished book. I hope they include a box of Kleenex.

The Grass Is Always Greener

When I was pushing through the final weeks of finishing the writing and designing of the book, and staying up all night for days in a row to make my deadlines, I was saying to myself "It will be so much easier when I just have the business stuff to do."

It's not.

Don't get me wrong. Things are going very well. It's just harder when you have to deal with people who are alive. My dead musicians could be a pain at times, but for the most part they were cooperate and helpful.

And the shopping cart is back. For the third time. It didn't make it up to the porch. It stopped in front of the garage. I think I'm going to keep it.

Merv Griffin Dead at 82

July 6, 1925 – August 12, 2007

The first time I met Merv Griffin was in November 1979 when he agreed to have me on his talk show to promote my first book, Starart. Merv did me a huge favor. I'd never been on TV before and I didn't have a publicist pushing for me, or someone calling in a favor. We just presented the project and I was booked. Just like that. Merv didn't even ask if I could bring one of the artists on. He was happy just to have little old me on with my little book. Once I was on the show, he gave me a ton of time plus had me sit next to Jay Leno!

Here's a clip from my appearance on the Merv Griffin show along with an interview with the artists from my book that was filmed at one of our gallery openings:

And a still from the show. L to R clothing designer Bob Mackie, Merv holding my book, Charlie's Angel Cheryl Ladd, Jay Leno applauding my book (how cool is that?) and me:


I met Merv one more time a few years back. I was at the Beverly Hilton Hotel - which Merv owned - and somehow ended up meeting his son, Tony. I really have no idea who I was with or why I was there, but I was at a big table with Tony and a couple of other people in one of the ballrooms for some music show or a dance thing, when Merv strolled in and joined us at the table. He looked much older than when I first met him and was much larger at the time but he was still the sweet man he'd always been. The man who cut a young unknown girl a break.

Thank you, Merv. Everyone who had the opportunity to meet you will certainly miss you.

Proofed

I've been kind of busy lately. I keep meaning to post here every day and then I bomb out because I get caught up in the work of the day or become paralyzed realizing the number of things I need to get done. I will try to do better on all counts.

The news of the day is that the book is completely proofed. The corrections I sent in a week or so ago came back with everything perfect except for three small fixes. Including one typo that I had fixed in the last round - a sentence that said "He was also played on..." - where instead of deleting the word "was," I deleted "also." Oops. That along with the other two quick fixes were approved today (or was it yesterday?) and everything is now in the hands of the printers.

I will see and approve the blueline - that's a copy of the book that looks like a blueprint, all put together so I can be sure it's all in the correct order and everything shows up on the page - on August 16th. Once that's done the press will be fired up and the beautiful fresh virgin pages of paper shall receive their cyan, magenta, yellow and black inks...finally bringing the musicians to life.

The advance copies will be express shipped to me around the 26th of September. The same day the bulk of the books are trucked over to a dock to be loaded on a boat. That shipment should arrive mid-October and the pre-orders will be immediately packed and shipped out. Yay!!

Twilight Zone

I was about to sit down to write an important post tonight when I decided I was thirsty. Remembering that I had left a bottle of water in my car, I picked up my keys and headed to the front door. My son had been here with his girlfriend and left maybe ten before to get camera batteries at the drugstore.

I approach the door and notice a patch of red through frosted yellow-tinted window slats of the front door. I figure my son must have taken something out of his girlfriend's car and left it there to pick up when he got back. No problem. Without hesitation, I open the door and bam... this is what I see...

It's back. WTF...how did it appear again? I know it wasn't there when my son left. And not even ten minutes had passed. I saw nothing and heard nothing. The dog didn't bark and he can hear people approach long before they arrive at the door. But suddenly the shopping cart was mysteriously back on my porch, even though my son had moved it to the corner of our street last night.

Okay, like you , I'm figuring my son is behind this prank. About five minutes later I hear his girlfriend's car pull into the driveway. This time the dog barks. Why didn't he bark when the shopping cart made its way up the two steps and back on to the porch. It's a heavy-duty shopping cart and should have made a lot of noise when it was pushed up the driveway.

I walk outside to greet the kids. When it comes to my son I have an amazing built-in bullshit detector. I confront him about the cart as soon as they emerge from the car. I know if he pulled the prank he would cop to it because there is just no way he could hold back his laughter. I get no reaction other than his surprise that the cart is back. Nothing. Straight-faced, he has no idea how it got back on the porch. I believe him.

This is getting a little creepy. I think it's time to install video surveillance cameras.

Bad Omen?

I took Drama to the Puppy Park at the top of Laurel Canyon late this afternoon. I hadn't been out all weekend because my back was messed up from carting all my proofs around and then shooting Crash Hot on Thursday night. They were really, really good, btw... and I'm hoping I got some good shots of them. Admittedly, I was a little rusty. Actually, at times I felt clueless. But that's another story.

So, the dog had a great time at the park. He loves being chased around by other dogs and outsmarting them as he makes his escape. I was going to pick up something to eat on the way home but by the time we left the park it was almost eight o'clock and I decided I didn't want to eat a whole meal that late.

When I pulled into my driveway...well, that's when I saw it. Right there on my front porch, as if it was begging for someone to let it inside. It would have been different if it was on the street, or on the sidewalk, or even loitering in my driveway for Christ's sake. But on my front porch?

Jesus, this can't be good. Especially since I've been making jokes of late about possibly needing this very item if things don't go well with my book. Although I'm pretty sure I didn't make the joke to anyone close enough to my house; someone who could follow through with a cruel joke of their own. I think I said it to Brett, but he's been back in the state of Bush for at least the past ten days. Who could have done such a thing?

Maybe if I put it up here, someone will confess or give me a lead. This is it. What I saw when I pulled into my driveway:

Someone please tell me this isn't a sign of things to come.

Back In The Saddle

I'm going to a club tonight to shoot a band.

The last time I shot a musician was a year and a half ago when I took pics of my friend Chris Parker at the Yamaha Groove Night at NAMM. Actually I did a whole series of blogs on my reunion with Chris, whom I first met when he was drumming for Paul Butterfield's band Better Days. If you haven't read the five part series you don't know what you're missing. Here they are in proper reading order for your procrastinationary enjoyment:

Chris & Me Part 1
Chris & Me Part 2
Chris & Me Part 3
Chris & Me Part 4
Chris & Me Part 4

The band I'm going to shoot tonight is Crash Hot. They're Australian. I met them at the photo shoot on Tuesday. Randee was shooting them after she was done with me.

My son was there too...in case you don't know, he's taken to shooting bands live of late. You can see his stuff here. He recently shot Rooney and Tyler Hilton.

We are both going to shoot Crash Hot tonight. How weird is that? Chesher & Son Rock'n'Roll Photography at your service. Old school and new school all rolled into one. This should be fun.

Picture Day

This is a test polaroid for the photo shoot I did today. I'll be using the pictures as my publicity shots for the book. Hopefully the talk shows will consider me TV friendly. Don't worry, I actually cracked a smile a few times during the shoot.

Thanks to Tasha for a great make-up job, and of course Randee, who is the best photographer I know, bar none.

F&Gs

As if I haven't already had my share of late nights getting Everybody I Shot Is Dead off to the printers, here I am again. It's after 1am and I am in front of my computer printing F&Gs. What are F&Gs? They are something my soon-to-be-PR firm will need.

That's right, I'm hiring a PR firm. On Starart (my last book) I did the publicity myself with the help of friends and a full time assistant. And we did a pretty good job. I did some TV (Merv Griffin, for one), lots of radio (K-Earth and KMET), had a full page feature in Playboy, among others, and also had lots of newspaper features, reviews (all good, btw) etc. But these days there's just way too much ground to cover for the little engine that could. So I made what I hope is the wise decision to go in further debt for the book and bring on a real PR firm - one that is very well connected with everyone in the media and although they can't make any promises, I'm confident that we will get results. I'm really looking forward to the experience of having a PR team working with me on getting the word out there and am planning to sign the contract tomorrow and go out with guns blazing...

There's a few important deadlines that need to be met immediately. And that's why the publicist needs F&Gs asap. F&G is short for "folded and gathered." They are what you give the press for reviews before your book is printed so you can get reviews and/or features in publications that have long lead times. The F&Gs need to include The first one we need to hit up is Publisher's Weekly. There are a trade magazine that goes out to all the bookstores and if you don't have a review in PW you are pretty much dead in the water. They are also the first review (usually) that you see on a book's Amazon page. And they have a three month in advance of the release date deadline. So, figuring they will get the F&Gs by August 1, I am setting the official book release date as November 1. Not to worry...the people who order[ed] from my website will receive their books earlier.

So the F&Gs are basically just the text from the book plus a selection of a few photographs. But knowing that first impressions are everything, I'm printing out all the text pages just as there appear in the book with the photographs. Then I'm going to include one color spread and one black & white spread from the wet proofs in each of the five F&G packages that the publicist has requested. The whole thing is turning out to be a lot of work because there are 80 pages in the book that include text, and I'm printing double-sided which means I have to pay close attention to what I'm doing.

It's now 2:34am...I think I need sleep and will have to finish the remainder of the pages tomorrow.

zzzzzzzzz........