Monday, February 1, 2010

Just a Picture of a Person I Don't Know

I lived life as a elementary school teacher before what I am now. The only adult male in the building, save for the itinerant Arts teacher, who came to us twice a week when he wasn't on service to the National Guard.

It made for good stories. I used it for ever. Bluegrass Writing Project Friday readings, you know the drill.

Lynn S. Hightower even interviewed me and I became Keaton Daniels, for a moment, in her 1995 thriller Flashpoint.

That's me on page 118 of the Harper-Collins hardcover edition:

"You know how women, when they work together, their periods synchronize? How'd you like to go to work in a building with forty-five women all having their period?" Sonora coughed violently. Keaton leaned over and patted her on the back.''

Lynn signed a copy for me with this: "To Michael Miller- I could not have done this without your help-"

Without an appropriate transition, then, there's this:

My Grandfather, Douglas Miller, Baptist minister, former Supt. of Estill Co. Schools and author of a vanity press publication, Rain in Lyle Hollow, signs an edition of his novel with this, in his brilliant, elderly handwriting that I cherish:

"To my grandson, Michael J. Miller who is a good teacher. He is also a good singer, an outstanding actor, and an excellent dancer. He can go to the top if given a chance. My hope and prayer for Michael is that the Movie industry or television systems or both will find him and give him a chance to show his talents to the world. signed Douglas Miller"

Who am I, anyway?

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