Barbara Harris is doing well.

So right now, I’m working on the Steinbeck opening of “Four Days with Barbara Harris.” I’ve read copious amounts of literature on the Sonoran Desert, as she was living in “the Valley of the Sun” or, Scottsdale, Arizona.

There’s a desert writing prize I’m applying for in a few days, which gave me a good idea, as I’ve been eyeing this prize for a couple of years, wondering if there was a way to incorporate the land, the area we were in, as it struck me that we were in the desert.

And it turns out that the Sonoran is the lushest of the deserts, which I did not know. Barbara Harris and I, in my head, are trying to encourage people to be environmentalists. We’re in the desert currently, and I’m describing the topsoil, I’m in that section of East of Eden.

I think it’s true that this story is about connection, actually, so that’s why I started with that opening because it begins with the land. And I found evocative imagery that relates to her, rooting her in nature.

I’ll spend some time with the chapter outline next and keep moving that one along. I find it to be a juggle, there’s a publication with a FAME theme that agents read — so I’m going to submit a nonfiction about Barbara Harris.

I submitted something for another contest, but it’s like anything else, you get rejected. But at least, with this opening I’m doing for the contest, I’ll have the beginnings of a sample, so I’ll be able to move that along quickly.

And then, absurd, absurd. The sex scandal I was in, when I was four. I described Dr. J, my mother, as a Disney character, which is what she looks like, I mean—LOOK. And I describe Angelita as “the stork that flew in and snatched a baby back.” That’s what she LOOKS like.

Dr. J arranged for her youngest daughter and me to attend the same fancy prep school in LA for a couple of years. She 100% ignored me, hence Angelita’s weird smile. And, of course, my father took this picture, when we believed he was a child rapist, molester, a threat to me, simply.

Dr. J showed up in her limo, one day, randomly, I think, with my father. And we had a weird photo session.

I can’t analyze this snapshot. But that’s it, now you know everything I say is true. Dr. J = Disney.

“The whitest woman I have ever seen,” that’s what Angelita said.

”Unusual shade.”

“Very very likely” Alice Munro was molested, “very very likely.” Margaret Atwood said.

It’s rated PG. Which is what Dr. J was. What this whole spectacle was. Four years.

I’m working on a piece for EPIC, so I got to the end of a rough draft, and then, I went through my chapter outline again and refined it, as I was seeking to find the right scenes to tell the story. It’s tighter, and I’ll be moving onto the next draft. And from there, I’ll be able to extend my chapter outline into a book outline. That feels like the more relevant book, right now. I’ll adjust my website later.

I launched an undercover investigation into this sex scandal when I was eight, nine, on that cusp. it lasted four years and grew to include the Catholic Church as an organization. So that’s how I’m framing it, though the Catholic Church isn’t in the EPIC piece.

What’s really “funny,” is that I spent my time in church, when I was four, thinking about child abuse, sexual abuse, actively. My first field of study was “pure regards.” Dr. J had “a pure regard.” She had a pure quality to her, which was so strange because she was so impure.

Evidently, I reopened this investigation these years, which changed my life.

And though I had to go through so much resistance to get here, nobody reading it going to know what was true or not. It doesn’t sound good.

So that’s in progress, I hope to be done in the next couple of weeks. I always find writing takes longer than you want it to. Somewhere in that span, 2-4 weeks.

I’m going to get back to it.