{"id":2409,"date":"2013-02-04T10:45:57","date_gmt":"2013-02-04T18:45:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/onelife\/?p=2409"},"modified":"2013-02-04T10:45:57","modified_gmt":"2013-02-04T18:45:57","slug":"the-virgin-marries-do-malibu-town-sluts-daughter-forthcoming-novel-excerpt","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/?p=2409","title":{"rendered":"THE VIRGIN MARRIES DO MALIBU-“Town Slut’s Daughter” forthcoming novel excerpt"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>
\nHeading to the studio, they wound their way along the curves of Pacific Coast Highway past sunning sea lions, surfers bobbing at Point Dume, shithawks\u2014seagulls\u2014bombing the pier. Fiona watched Dennis ogling a busty brunette astride a Palomino stallion bareback, galloping through roiling surf.
\n\u201cYou can see the gray whales during migration.\u201d He told them smugglers used to run liquor, opium and Chinese labor through the area.
\nThe studio sat under the lee of the mountains, a veritable citadel by the sea. The massive foyer, a circle of mahogany pillars, opened teepee-like, rays of sun warming the slate floor.
\n\u201cHey Virgins, it\u2019s your first time!\u201d joked Dennis. \u201cIn a studio.\u201d
\nProducer Dan Foley ambled in, gently gruff in a RECOVERING CATHOLIC t-shirt, black jeans, lizard skin cowboy boots. He sat, Virgins arranging their bums on a bank of white couches.
\n\u201cOkay, so what kind of a production values are you going for?\u201d he asked, voice like sandpaper.
\n\u201cDon\u2019t you know?\u201d Jackie clung to her guitar case.
\n\u201cIt\u2019s your music. You tell me.\u201d
\nFiona knew. \u201cRaw. Gritty.\u201d
\n\u201cRight,\u201d said Rita. \u201cAnd we want it tight.\u201d
\n\u201cMonster bass!\u201d said Jackie. \u201cI play bass like no one, melodically, but with a lot of guts.\u201d
\n\u201cDescribe your sound. As a band I mean.\u201d
\nGawd. I wish we had a manager. \u201cWe sound like the Virgin Marries. Our drummer is a walking, talking, sonic boom. Our bass player is an original. Dolores plays her Les Paul like a band saw. It rips! We write excellent songs. The singer can actually sing. I have great stage presence too. We all do. Right, girls?\u201d They nodded. \u201cWe\u2019re talented. Fucking brilliant in fact.\u201d
\nDan feigned ducking, as if to avoid a blow. \u201cAlright then. We have a band in the studio. Who\u2019s responsible for the arrangements?\u201d
\nDolores groaned. \u201cArranging is for wimps. We don\u2019t arrange our stuff.\u201d
\nRita brandished her drumsticks. \u201cYes we do! We don\u2019t want a ton of effects, Linn drums, or a million overdubs.\u201d
\n\u201cNo cowbells!\u201d said Fiona. \u201cI hate fucking cowbells. Let the farmers have \u2018em.\u201d
\n\u201cOr synthesizers,\u201d said Dolores.
\n\u201cI hate saxophones almost as much as I hate cowbells. And flutes! I hate the flute. It reminds me of beatniks. And hippies.\u201d
\nDan stood at the window looking out over the mist-shrouded hills. \u201cOkay, so you know what you don\u2019t want. I will venture to say I think you need a clean sound. Organic. Unrestrained. Untainted.\u201d
\n\u201cOrganic?\u201d bleated Jackie.
\n\u201cYeah. Organic, as in authentic. Virginal. Pure. Virgin Marries, doing what comes natural.\u201d
\n\u201cEr, yeah, okay.\u201d Jackie feigned gagging. \u201cBut we are not hippies!\u201d<\/p>\n

Pink Sombreros<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

The cowboy led his horse to water
\nThe horse refused to drink
\nThe cowboy roped a steer one day
\nThe steer was full of sawdust
\nThe cowboy saw a sign in the sky
\nRevolving neon stars<\/em><\/p>\n

Dudes in white fringes live here now
\nDudes in pink sombreros are here to stay<\/em><\/p>\n

The cows are lowing, the myth is dying
\nThis land can break my heart
\nI have no place to go
\nBeyond my wild whisky dreams<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHow about piano?\u201d
\n\u201cGimme a break! Do you want us to sound like the Eagles?\u201d
\nRita glared at Fiona. \u201cWe couldn\u2019t sound like the Eagles if we tried!\u201d
\n\u201cIt is a ballad,\u201d said Dan.
\n\u201cYeah, it\u2019s a ballad,\u201d said Fiona, \u201cbut it\u2019s a cowboy song. I hear guitars.\u201d
\n\u201cGuitar yes, of course, but this song, a wonderful song by the way, should be played on acoustic. Just the rhythm parts.\u201d
\n\u201cAcoustic!\u201d yelped Dolores.
\n\u201cYes. Acoustic will make it a classic. Showcase the vocals. A little piano in the bridge.\u201d Dan leveled his eyes at Fiona. \u201cAnd another thing. Hit songs do not have minor chords.\u201d
\nLet\u2019s hit you. Fiona sighed.
\n\u201cI thought you were tired of wasting away on the fringe,\u201d said Dan.<\/p>\n

Dear Mom<\/em><\/p>\n

How are the provinces?
\nNo I can\u2019t come home
\nI have viewed the greatest paintings
\nBut none of them move me
\nI hear so many voices
\nBut none of them move me
\nI wish he would draw me in<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s it about?\u201d
\n\u201cAlienation?\u201d
\nJackie thought it sounded derivative. She\u2019d been pulling out the ten-dollar words lately, as if she could compete with Rita.
\n\u201cIt\u2019s not very original,\u201d parroted Dolores.
\nRita was bothered by its overt pathos.
\n\u201cChrist. Everybody\u2019s a critic.\u201d
\n\u201cDon\u2019t worry about being original.\u201d Dan took his seat at the console. \u201cIt isn\u2019t possible. There hasn\u2019t been a new chord written in over three hundred years. Shoot for distinctive. Or better yet, just be your inimitable selves.\u201d He shooed them out of the control room. \u201cGo set up.\u201d
\nThe twins started each song with a loud thwack on their guitars, Dan wincing. \u201cTurn down please. We have to get out of the red. At least once in a while.\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s too crunchy,\u201d reported Dolores. \u201cI need more fuzz.\u201d
\n\u201cI love these musical terms of yours. And you\u2019re going to have to turn down.\u201d
\n\u201cCome on, Dolores!\u201d Rita rose from her kit. \u201cIt\u2019s not the same as playing live for Chrissakes.\u201d
\nThe twins plugged, unplugged, tuned, re-tuned, Rita complaining that she couldn\u2019t hear herself in the click track of her headphones. Hurry up and wait. Waiting for all the Virgin Marries to be happy could take forever; only one reason Fiona was beginning to detest recording.<\/p>\n

Everything Gets In Your Mouth<\/em><\/p>\n

She stops his heart with red lips
\nI can see him staring
\nI can hear lies resounding after each sigh
\nSense secret desires, the lies and shame<\/em><\/p>\n

Everything gets in your mouth
\nShe tries to touch color
\nShe tries to kiss truth
\nBut it just gets in her mouth
\nThere\u2019s too much to swallow
\nToo much to choke down
\nSo much to swallow
\nIt just gets in your mouth<\/em><\/p>\n

They finally managed to piss Dan off, smoking hash in the control room. Dolores and Jackie refused to turn down or play any song more than twice. Fiona found them blowing smoke rings, Jackie sitting queenly on her amp, Dolores leaning against her stack o\u2019 Marshalls.
\n\u201cWe\u2019re on strike,\u201d said Dolores, crushing a Marlboro. \u201cI hate the way he\u2019s making my guitar sound. It\u2019s so wimpy.\u201d
\n\u201cYeah,\u201d said Jackie, \u201cthe overall sound is way too thin.\u201d
\n\u201cOh, so now you\u2019re experts all of a sudden.\u201d
\n\u201cHe\u2019s not listening to us! He doesn\u2019t know what the fuck we\u2019re about. I mean, look at him. He\u2019s just a big old hippie,\u201d Dolores the teapot, short and stout, calling the kettle fat.
\n\u201cHe\u2019s doing us a huge favor, and you\u2019re making Dennis look bad. Besides, Dan\u2019s not a hippie. He\u2019s a hipster.\u201d
\n\u201cWho gives a shit?\u201d
\nDan emerged from the control room, smiling despite the tension. \u201cMaybe I should pull a Phil Spector on you. He once held the Ramones at gunpoint you know, forced them to play with a string section.\u201d
\nThe twins recoiled, not in mock horror.<\/p>\n

Many hours later, working on lead vocals in the isolation booth, Fiona flattened notes and flubbed lyrics.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re coming across hard,\u201d said Dan. \u201cCold.\u201d
\n\u201cYeah. So?\u201d
\n\u201cWell you\u2019re not hard, or cold, so why do you want to come across that way? You should be thinking beyond punk, remember? You\u2019re writing some heady tunes here. At the same time, you\u2019re holding back.\u201d
\n\u201cHolding back!\u201d
\n\u201cSurrender. Learn to surrender.\u201d
\nSurrender what? She was not about to ask. With concerted coaching, things slowly turned around, eventually leading to a series of superior takes. They took a break.
\n\u201cWas it good for you too?\u201d
\nThey laughed and listened to the playback as the other Virgins descended for their scheduled tracks, Dolores toddling into the control room, pupils like nail heads.
\n\u201cWe should fire her ass!\u201d hissed Rita. \u201cI hate it when she plays all fucked up like that.\u201d
\n\u201cYeah, well,\u201d said Dan, \u201cshe\u2019s not playing through the nod on this recording. You\u2019ll have to come back tomorrow.\u201d
\nJackie may have quit smack but it hadn\u2019t dampened Dolores\u2019s appetite. She used to follow Jackie\u2019s lead but lately it was one way the twins differed. Dolores represented a deep cavity of vague yearning but Jackie knew what she wanted and how to get it. They tried to keep Dolores away from the stuff but the scoring process was nearly imperceptible. As soon as they hit town, any town, it was as if smoke signals went up. Locals ran out, tracked down dope for the guitar player of that all-girl band, the Virgin Marries from Vancouver.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re sabotaging everybody\u2019s hard work!\u201d
\nRita\u2019s lectures had no effect. All she could do was warn Dolores not to buy drugs from bikers. Dolores continued playing down the volume of her inside dope, no sleeve long enough to cover her festering itch, once mewling, \u201cI\u2019m just trying to crawl back into the womb.\u201d
\nFiona went off on her. \u201cOkay, I get it, supreme bliss, but why does everyone talk about the womb as if they remember? How do you know it\u2019s the same way you feel when you\u2019re high? I\u2019m so tired of that fucking clich\u00e9. It\u2019s almost as tedious as a rock star-junkie.\u201d<\/p>\n

Recording wrapped the next day and the Virgin Marries didn\u2019t implode. They traipsed down to a beer bash a few houses up the beach, relishing hot, homemade salsa, barbecued chicken and a bonfire. The Honeydrippers ambled over after playing at a nearby wedding reception, Fiona just as thrilled to meet country singer extraordinaire Candy Kane and her friend, ultra blonde, super-stacked Los Angeles poet Saint Teresa Stone, radiant in a silk bridesmaid\u2019s gown.
\nAn hour later, Fiona snuck away to rendezvous with Dan. She breathed in his musk-citrus aftershave, still pleasantly surprised by his carnal aptitude. He threw a big, powerful arm over her hips.
\n\u201cSo why\u2019s the record called \u2018Mnemonic Device?\u2019 \u201d
\n\u201cUh, let\u2019s see. Because I use them all the time?\u201d
\n\u201cWill you remember me?\u201d
\n\u201cYou sound so sad Dan. What is this if not a fling?\u201d
\n\u201cWhat is it for you?\u201d
\n\u201cA fling. With Dan the Man, the married man with children, the married man with a seven-year itch. How\u2019s that for a mnemonic device?\u201d
\n\u201cVery effective I\u2019m sure. Especially the itch part. Wanna scratch it again?\u201d
\nShe did. He did, placing a series of furtive phone calls in the following few days.
\n\u201cDan! It\u2019s okay. I have no regrets. I know you care for me.\u201d
\nHe wanted to see her again. Though sorely tempted, Fiona declined. \u201cI know you don\u2019t want to lose your family.\u201d
\nHe was not happy. It seemed no one else was happy either.
\n\u201cThe mix is way too treble,\u201d said Jackie. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t have enough bottom.\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s too bad,\u201d said Rita. \u201cWhat he calls atmospheric, I call hollow.\u201d
\n\u201cThe only thing he didn\u2019t fuck up was your vocals,\u201d said Dolores, eyeing Fiona with suspicion.
\nShe sighed, determined to view it all as a gift.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Heading to the studio, they wound their way along the curves of Pacific Coast Highway past sunning sea lions, surfers bobbing at Point Dume, shithawks\u2014seagulls\u2014bombing the pier. Fiona watched Dennis ogling a busty brunette astride a Palomino stallion bareback, galloping through roiling surf. \u201cYou can see the gray whales during migration.\u201d He told them smugglers […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[10],"tags":[149,246,321,342],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2409"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2409"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2409\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2409"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2409"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2409"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}