A Departure From My Usual Blog

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Someone asked me why I write about celebrities or persons of note when I am an author. Most authors, they said, write about writing, or their books, or the business of publishing. I should be trying to get readers—correction—book buyers to want to buy my stories.
They are probably right. Of course I want folks to buy POINT SURRENDER, or any of my several novels currently available. But I also want to entertain. As a person who reads many blogs, both as a writer and a reader, I grow weary of much of the hype, the endless dissertations on craft, marketing, format, etc. Most of what I could come up with has been said so many times by so many people (and so much better) that the words sometimes become invisible on the screen. But my intent is not to diminish in any way the efforts of my fellow authors; on the contrary, I laud you for your tireless contributions and thoughtful words.

When I write about people whose lives I find interesting, I feel that others might find them interesting as well. And therein lies a connection, however remote it might seem. I loved learning about James Herriot, Jackson Browne and Oscar Wilde. There is a certain romantic thread weaving these talented people together, a creativity I hope I share in just the least bit.

I wasn’t looking for a niche. Were my books biographical in nature, my blog topics would seem more relevant. Would it help to say I base my characters (somewhat) on public figures I find intriguing? Is that enough of a link to legitimize my habit?

So perhaps the answer is that I sprinkle in a subliminal, or at least subtle, plug for my books now and then. Kind of like those brief, 15 second TV commercials that aren’t long enough for a bathroom break. Let’s see:

“Looking for a great gift for the literary gal on your list? Escape the ordinary and pick up POINT SURRENDER by Anne Carter from Amazon today! Write me for a free, autographed book plate to personalize your gift—sure to thrill your most avid romantic mystery fan!”

There. Commercial duly posted. Have a great weekend!

November 14: Another Tough Choice!

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1840: Claude Monet, Painter
1900: Aaron Copeland, Composer
1904: Dick Powell, Actor
1906: Louise Brooks, Actress
1908: Joseph McCarthy, U.S. Senator
1921: Brian Keith, Actor
1922: Veronica Lake, Actress
1948: Prince Charles

There’s a hundred years’ worth of people worth talking about. Tune in Friday to see who I’ll profile!

Mitchell et Mitchell – Part Two

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Had she not been struck down by a drunk driver, Margaret Mitchell Marsh would have been 108 today. Born in 1900 in Atlanta (where else?) to a family well-defined by its number of soldiers and patriots, young Margaret (“Peggy”) grew up immersed in stories of the Civil War. Not surprising, her upbringing was not too dissimilar to that of her famous heroine, Scarlett O’Hara. Her free-spirited intelligence set her apart from fellow debutantes, and by the early 1920’s she was considered a “headstrong flapper”.

While courted by both ex-football player Berrien “Red” Upshaw and newspaperman John Marsh, she married Upshaw but found him to be inadequate support so soon took a job as a writer working for Marsh at the Atlanta Journal. She was paid $25.00 per week as one of the first woman columnists at the South’s largest newspaper. Her marriage didn’t last long; Upshaw was found to be a bootlegger, and she divorced him in 1924. In 1925, she married Marsh.

It is said that she began writing her famous, Pulitzer prize-winning novel while laid up with a broken ankle. Having exhausted all of the historical books her husband brought home to amuse her, Peggy set up a Remington typewriter and took to heart Marsh’s suggestion that she write her own book.

While she always claimed that Gone With the Wind was entirely fictional, historians have since discovered a number of undeniable parallels with actual people living before and during Mitchell’s lifetime. Surely the death of Scarlett’s mother from typhoid matches Mitchell’s own mother’s passing, a result of an epidemic flu. More enlightening is the discovery by Dr. E. Lee Spence of ties between fictional Rhett Butler and real-life blockade runner George Alfred Trenholm. It would seem that Ms. Mitchell based Butler’s character quite specifically on Trenholm. (See Spence’s book: Treasures of the Confederate Coast: The “Real Rhett Butler” and Other Revelations for more on this astonishing discovery, which Life magazine called “overwhelming evidence.”)

Peggy was a reluctant author, hiding her manuscript from all except her husband. It was only after a friend commented that it was unimaginable that “anyone as silly as Peggy” could write a book that she gave the novel to MacMillan talent scout Harold Latham, who bought a second suitcase with which to transport the massive manuscript back to New York. Mitchell was immediately regretful and sent a telegram to Latham, asking for the book back. However, the editor had no intention of returning it, having determined it had the potential to be the blockbuster it later became.

Some stats: It took her 9 years to write, both typed and hen-scratched onto heaps of scrap paper;

The book was released in June, 1936; by early 1949, it was announced that the book had sold 8 million copies (Mitchell had hopes of selling 5,000 copies.)

David O. Selznick paid her $50,000 for the movie rights;

The ending of GWTW was written first, Mitchell writing her way back toward the beginning. The first chapter had not been written when she submitted to MacMillan;

Mitchell hated publicity, and wrote: “My time is not my own. It has not been my own since ‘Gone With the Wind’ was published. The very fact that since 1936 I have never had the time to sit down –to my typewriter and write—or try to write—another book will give you some indication of what I mean.”

She added that “being the author of ‘Gone With the Wind’ is a full-time job, and most days it is an overtime job filling engagements and meeting visitors. In addition, I am giving all the time I can to war activities and future commitments in this field which will take me out of the city.” Although the fame disrupted her life, it brought her an estimated $1,000,000 in book royalties, movie payments and other returns in less than four years.

The off-duty taxi driver who struck Mitchell had 23 prior traffic violations on record. He was charged with drunken driving, speeding, and driving on the wrong side of the street. Gov. Herman Talmadge ordered the flag over the State Capitol lowered to half-staff until after the funeral.

(Gone With) The Wind is in From Africa

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Okay, that was sort of a lame title. But there’s a reason. Stay tuned.

November 7th finds us celebrating the birthday of one of my favorite recording artists, songwriters, painters… Joni Mitchell turned 65 today but somehow I doubt she rushed to file for Social Security benefits. Parts of the title, of course, are lyrics from one of her biggest commercial hits, “Carey”, and Mitchell’s fans will know that. Joni has been called “iconoclastic and unconforming”, and “restlessly innovative.” I can’t compete with those articulate descriptives, but I will say that I liked her because she didn’t care if her syllable count matched from stanza to stanza. Not every line had to rhyme, not every note had to follow any kind of pattern. She traversed octaves in leaps and bounds, not worried if her vocals were consistent from song to song.

She was born in Alberta, Canada, as Roberta Joan Anderson, and at age 9 contracted polio. Under her mother’s care, she recovered and later, taught herself to play the ukulele (she couldn’t afford a guitar), attended art school and joined the local folk music set. After making her way to Toronto, she got the “Mitchell” from ex-husband Chuck, whom she married in 1965. The couple relocated to Detroit, then parted ways and Joni found herself in New York and making a record for Reprise with help from David Crosby. Stardom followed, and her 1970’s Ladies of the Canyon brought forth both “Big Yellow Taxi” and “Woodstock”, the now-infamous cover of which went on to become a huge launch for Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.

It occurs to me at this point that I couldn’t possibly paint a viable picture of Joni on such a small canvas, and those hungry for more about his talented woman should check out this immensely consuming page about her life, works and many talents. Contained therein is the surprising revelation about a 43 year old daughter, alluded to in song but never acknowledged until the 1990’s.

For the record, my personal favorites include “A Case of You”, “Little Green” and “Free Man in Paris”. Although I haven’t personally heard her live for many, many years, I understand her voice has been diminished from her 56 years of smoking (yes, she admits to starting at 9 years old.) Check out http://jonimitchell.com/ for more.

Come back tomorrow for Part Two….

Halloween Birthdays!

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Happy Halloween!

I was curious about those born on this eeriest of holidays. Did (do) they suffer teasing at the hands of schoolmates? Did/do they worry that they were somehow flawed or subject to paranormal leanings? My mother was born on Friday the 13th, and she always spoke as if that fact had skewed her luck for life. She was a bit of a pessimist, to be sure.

Born today were:
Peter Jackson, New Zealand filmmaker, of the Lord of the Rings franchise, King Kong; Happy 47th, Peter! (For his birthday, he wants The One Ring…)

John Candy, Canadian actor much beloved in our household; favorites are Planes, Trains & Automobiles as the annoying but amiable shower curtain ring salesman, and who could forget his portrayal of Barf, the “mawg” (half man, half dog) in the classic Spaceballs? Candy was taken from us much too soon; he was 43 when he passed on 3/4/04, a victim of a heart attack.

Dale Evans, cowgirl extraordinaire and wife to sweetheart cowboy hero Roy Rogers. She really did write “Happy Trails To You.” 1912 – 2001.

And… Michael Landon, eternally youthful heartthrob of the Ponderosa. (“Little Joe’s” hair would be a good rival for Patrick Dempsey’s today…) Michael was born Eugene Orowitz to Jewish and Irish Catholic parents, grew up in the East. Many people remember him for that role as the youngest Cartwright on Bonanza, and probably even more think of Charles Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie where he played one of TV’s most endearing dads.

But did you know he was married three times, and had nine children (including two step-children) that range thirty years in age? That his sports specialty was javelin throwing, which got him into UCLA on a scholarship? That he smoked up to 4 packs of unfiltered menthol cigarettes a day? (He later attributed his pancreatic cancer to years of poor eating habits, moderate drinking and, of course, the smokes. He was diagnosed just three months before his death at 54.)

He wore “lifts” when shooting with comparable giants Dan Blocker and Lorne Greene, his co-stars on Bonanza. It is said that he was devastated by the deaths of Blocker, and later, his Highway to Heaven co-star, Victor French. He counted among his close friends Johnny Carson, Ronald Reagan and Ernest Borgnine.

As to his stage name, Landon said he picked the name out of a Los Angeles telephone directory.

Landon is credited with saying, “I want people to laugh and cry, not just sit and stare at the TV. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I think viewers are hungry for shows in which people say something meaningful.” I tend to agree, and would venture to apply his philosophy to today’s viewers as well.

As a young child, I had quite the crush on Little Joe. (I swooned over Pernell Roberts until I was told he wore a wig!)

Oh, and Patrick Dempsey? I just couldn’t resist. It’s the hair, you know. You’ll have to wait until January 13th for more on McDreamy.

October 24: Chantilly Lace an’ a Pretty Face

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Jiles Perry Richardson, Jr., was born in Sabine Pass, Texas, on this day in 1930. His career span reminds me of a bottle rocket; once lit, it soared quickly skyward and then extinguished at the height of its brilliance, leaving stunned watchers behind. J.P. got his start as a deejay in Beaumont, Texas, establishing a world record in May of 1957 for broadcasting for six days straight, during which time he lost 35 pounds! [Note: my voice begins to go after one weekend at a bookfair.] That same year, the self-named “Big Bopper” (after the dance “The Bop”) recorded his big hit, “Chantilly Lace” which went on to become the 3rd biggest hit of 1958. (Remember, “a wiggle in her walk and a giggle in her talk”? Would today’s listeners dig that crazy sound?)

J.P., or “Jape” as he came to be known, toured throughout 1958, thrilling teen audiences with “Oh, baby, that’sa what I like!” It was on one such tour, tagged the Winter Dance Party of 1959, when Jape came down with the flu. Along with Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and Waylon Jennings, the group rolled into Clear Lake, Iowa, in early February, 1959, amid freezing temperatures and snow. When Holly chartered a four-passenger Beechcraft Bonanza to take his band on to their next gig, Jape asked Jennings if he’d give up his seat on the plane so that the Bopper could get to some medical care. Jennings complied, and the plane took off in a blinding snowstorm. It crashed in a cornfield eight miles away. Remembered by Don McLean in “American Pie” as the Day the Music Died, the February 3, 1959 accident took the lives of Holly, Valens, the Bopper and pilot Roger Peterson.

Jape was 28, and left behind his wife Adrianne and two year old Debra Joy; Adrianne gave birth to son Jay Perry two months later. Over time, rumors grew out of the discovery of a gun near the crash site; conspiracy theorists were convinced that the handgun, with two rounds missing, had played a part in the downing of the plane, and that Richardson was somehow involved. By early 2007, son Jay had had enough, and ordered his father be exhumed for examination. No bullet wounds were found, and the Big Bopper was again laid to rest.

According to our friends over on Wikipedia, an upcoming film spotlighting J.P. Richardson is slated for release on the February ’09, 50th anniversary of the crash. The title? The Day the Music Died.

A bit of ironic trivia: It is said that when Holly found out Jennings had opted out of the plane ride Holly had paid $36 a seat for, he quipped, “I hope your old bus freezes up!”, to which Waylon reportedly responded, “I hope your damned plane crashes!” The late Jennings, of course, went on to become a huge country star, despite years of experiencing survivor’s guilt over his perceived part in the deaths of his pals.
(Jennings died in 2002, due to complications from long term diabetes.)

What’s My Line?

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Thank you for coming here. I know, am acutely aware of how many words are competing to be read every day. I have a handful of blogs I follow, in addition to reading the daily news on-line, and there isn’t enough time in the day for all the information and entertainment I want to absorb. Since I began posting my mini-bios, my readership has gone up considerably, and this tickles me to no end since I like knowing that other people are interested in, well, other people. So thanks again for stopping by.

How do I pick whom to blog about? Mostly they are just people I find interesting myself, or I discover something surprising I think others would like to know. Using “born today” lists, I can mine for writers, entertainers, remarkable people or ordinary people with remarkable stories. For example, my choices for Friday include US writers Sarah Hale, Moss Hart, Denise Levertov and Brenda Ueland; blind US harmonica player Sonny Terry; cartoonist Bob Kane, creator of Batman. Also sharing October 25 are actors Kevin Kline and F. Murray Abraham, and rocker J.P. “Big Bopper” Richardson.
They are like cyber faces imploring, “Pick me! Pick me!” Who will it be?
Tune in Friday.

Literary Giants Born Today

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Not a lot of blog time this morning but couldn’t let October 16th pass. If you were born today, you share your birthday with some great literary talent, too much so to ignore as coincidence, right?

Happy Birthday to playwright Eugene O’Neill, born this date in 1888. O’Neill, who spent much of his life plagued by depression and alcoholism, won the 1936 Nobel Prize for Literature and a number of Pulizers for popular works such as Beyond the Horizon, Anna Christie, and Strange Interlude. Some of his plays were made into films The Iceman Cometh, Mourning Becomes Electra, and Desire Under the Elms to name a few. Sadly, O’Neill disowned his daughter Oona for marrying comic film star Charlie Chaplin, and both of his sons committed suicide as a result of various addictions they suffered. O’Neill’s spirit is said to inhabit a dorm room at Boston University, the former Sheraton hotel room where he died in 1953.

Irish poet and playwright Oscar Wilde would have been 154 today. The author of The Picture of Dorian Gray was born in Dublin, but left Ireland permanently when his then love interest became engaged to writer Bram Stoker (of Dracula fame). He later lived in London, Paris and U.S., and spent years in prison over issues arising from his many homosexual and bisexual relationships. Also famous for the play, The Importance of Being Earnest. Like O’Neill, Wilde’s Dorian Gray, his only novel, has been brought to the big screen more than once. Wilde succumbed to cerebral meningitis in 1900.

Called the “Father of American Scholarship and Education”, Noah Webster also shares this popular birthdate. The title is well-deserved; who hasn’t referred to a Webster dictionary in their lifetime?


While she is not known as an author herself, she plays one on TV: Angela Lansbury, sometimes better known as Jessica Fletcher from “Murder, She Wrote”, turns 83 today. Ms. Lansbury deserves a whole blog page onto herself, and will get one in the near future.

October Ninth: Lennon and Browne

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Where were you the first time you saw or heard John Lennon sing? I remember well, 1963, when we had a little black and white portable on a shiny gold wire rolling stand in the eating area of our kitchen. Someone (probably me) yelled, “fix the antenna!” and my dad lumbered over to adjust the rabbit ears so that we could get a better picture of the The Beatles doing “I Want to Hold Your Hand” on the Ed Sullivan Show. I was in 4th grade.

Likewise, I remember exactly where I was seventeen years later when the announcer on my car radio sadly proclaimed that John Lennon had been shot and killed. Today, October 9th, is the 68th anniversary of this genius’ birth, tagged “Imagine Day” by followers. It is also the birthday of his younger son, Sean Ono Lennon, aged 33. “Imagine”, the song probably most representative of Lennon’s philosophies and non-materialistic ways, paid homage to his belief in the possibility of an ideal world.


Like Lennon, American singer-songwriter Jackson Browne is no stranger to expressing political and social convictions through music. Born in Heidelberg, Germany, in 1948, Browne has been called “precociously gifted” and “introspective”, writing and performing tunes that fueled the confessional movement of the early 70’s.

His roots were folksy. In 1966, Browne was a member of The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. He later wrote songs performed by Joan Baez, Tom Rush, the Eagles, Linda Ronstadt and the Byrds, but signed with Asyllum Records in 1971 and began his solo career with the release of “Doctor My Eyes” in 1972. He has since become an icon of socially conscious efforts, participating in organizations such as Musicians United for Safe Energy (“MUSE“) and No Nukes, playing numerous concerts benefiting Farm Aid and various presidential campaigns. A longtime liberal, Browne supported Ralph Nader, John Kerry (as part of the “Vote For Change” tour) and most recently, John Edwards. In August of this year, he sued John McCain and the Republican party for using his 1977 hit “Running on Empty” in a campaign attack against Barack Obama. As one of the most politically immersed artists of his generation, Browne was “incensed” at the illegal use of his material.

In 2007, Jackson Browne covered John Lennon’s “Oh My Love” on the album “Instant Karma: The Amnesty International Campaign to Save Darfur.”

It would appear that these two music giants share more than just a birthdate.

~Anne – Beacon Street Books

The Loss of a Hero

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I was going to begin this piece with, “Cancer steals another of my heroes…” but I didn’t want the focus to be on either me or on cancer. This insidious scourge already gets more press than it should.

Still, Paul Newman was nothing if not a hero. He was my hero, for as long as I can remember watching him on the big screen. So much so that he became a sort of “role model” for Dane Pierce, the classic bad boy anti-hero of STARCROSSED HEARTS, my first big contemporary romance (Wings ePress, Sept, 2001)

Apparently, I am not alone in my appreciation of this sexy, shining star. Nominated 9 times for Academy Awards, he took Oscar home only once for “The Color of Money.” He remained married to his second wife, Joanne Woodward, for fifty years. He created a charitable empire unrivaled by his peers.

One of my favorite experiences of Paul was his appearance on “Inside The Actors Studio” (he was their first guest) where he was interviewed by James Lipton. Normally elusive, this serious Hollywood icon was candid, comic, self-effacing and charming. I couldn’t stop smiling during the entire program.

I can’t really add anything to the multitude of eulogies being written this week about Paul. I loved him, I’m grieving, and I feel so much remorse over his suffering. My heart goes out to Joanne and their daughters, who most certainly are devastated at his passing.

Here is a brief video prepared by NEWMANS OWN organization. Grab a hanky.

Rest in peace, dear Paul.