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Overview
A fascinating blend of adventure, myth, and romance, Grammy Award-winning musician Michael Nesmith’s The Long Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora is a timeless love story that transcends and redefines the boundaries of faith.
A musician, entranced by an intriguing voice he hears on an old tape, embarks on a mission to find the ever-mysterious Neftoon Zamora. Beginning in Mississippi, he soon finds himself traveling through the New Mexico desert, encountering strange and mystical inhabitants who all have conflicting yarns to spin about the ephemeral Neftoon. Is she a Zuni High Priestess? Is she part Martian, part Delta blues singer? Was she born in Mississippi—or on Mars?
As the story continues, Neftoon’s spirit grows stronger, gradually encompassing everything. People, animals, objects -- all are affected by her legend, and all are imbued with a greater meaning beyond their mere existences. Therein lies the beauty of the Neftoon myth. By encircling all, it excludes none. Ultimately, Michael Nesmith’s The Long Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora is a look at a unity so complete, a peace so profound, that we cannot bear to look away.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780312246150 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | St. Martin's Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 04/01/2011 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 256 |
| File size: | 237 KB |
About the Author
Michael Nesmith (1942-2021) was a singer-songwriter, actor, author, film producer, and entrepreneur, who was a member of the legendary band The Monkees, which was also an Emmy Award-winning television show. The band produced three #1 singles and four #1 albums in 1966-1967. He periodically reunited with his bandmates Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, and Peter Tork between 1986 and 2021 for concert tours, television specials, and to record new albums.
Nesmith’s music with the First National Band has been credited with pioneering country rock as a genre in the 1970s and he made several critically-acclaimed solo albums including the Grammy Award-nominated The Garden. He won the very first Grammy for Video of the Year in 1981 for Michael Nesmith in Elephant Parts, a collection of music videos and comedy skits. He further developed the format in 1985 as the variety series Michael Nesmith in Television Parts, featuring such guest performers as Jerry Seinfeld, Whoopi Goldberg, Jay Leno, Jimmy Buffett, and Rosanne Cash. PopClips, his music television concept that aired on the Nickelodeon Channel, became the basis for MTV.
Nesmith’s film productions include Alex Cox’s cult, punk rock movie Repo Man, starring Emilio Estevez, Tapeheads with John Cusack, and Timerider: The Adventure of Lyle Swann. He was the author of the novels The Long Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora and The America Gene, and his memoir Infinite Tuesday: An Autobiographical Riff.
Read an Excerpt
The Long Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora
A Novel
By Michael Nesmith
St. Martin's Press
Copyright © 1998 Michael NesmithAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-312-24615-0
CHAPTER 1
HERE LET ME SET DOWN A TALE OF NEFTOON ZAMORA. Somewhere in the southwestern United States, in a region unclear on the maps of its generations, there is said to exist a town named Chuchen. Those who suppose, suppose it only fancy, fluttering and sweeping with the sands in the desert wind, but those who know, those who have been there, place it in New Mexico, south of Gallup and north of Lords-burg, somewhere along the Continental Divide. I traveled there in search of the town and Neftoon Zamora and found what I thought were signs of the city, but I was never sure: only a few relics among some of the locales entwined in my own adventure. But the exact declinations of the town are not important. What is important is what happens there in certain times and its effect on our lives.
I first heard of Neftoon Zamora in the late 1900s, in the spring of the year. I was south of New Orleans, in one of the outlying swamps, visiting Doc and Aileen. Doc lived in the swamp in a house built on stilts with little more than a few sticks of furniture, a generator which he connected to a blender he used for margaritas, and his books, thousands of them.
He was a medical doctor, a neurosurgeon, but had retired from what he called the barbarism of his practice. He had become convinced healing could come about some other way than by cutting people open and manipulating lumps of their flesh. He was one of the wisest men I knew, so whenever I traveled anywhere near his home I made the effort to see him and Aileen. Aileen was his pet alligator.
I never knew what to expect from him, but through the years his words and thoughts had had a profound effect on my thinking and how I viewed life. So, on this visit I listened with great interest as he told of Neftoon Zamora.
His tone was reverential and he deferred his wisdom to Zamora's. Doc told me Neftoon Zamora had lived among the Indians in New Mexico for a time and was venerated by them as chief or high priest because of a heroic act, the details of which he was not certain.
The legend of Zamora's advent was most strange. According to the stories, he was part Zuni, part Martian, and part Delta blues player and had come from the Great Spirit, Mars, or some place in Mississippi, thousands of years ago. It was the Delta blues part that captured my immediate interest, though it turned out this was the least of it.
Doc said he had a recording of Neftoon Zamora singing some of these blues, rummaged around, produced an audio cassette, and played it.
For those unacquainted with the blues, it is not necessary to know much except all blues sound essentially the same. What counts is the individuality of the singer, the soul of the performer. Everyone plays the same three or four chords; the melodies are almost indistinguishable, so the captivating part is what the player brings to the form. In the presence of a rare and gifted player or singer, one can capture for a moment a special feeling. It may cause you to cry or laugh. Sometimes it can change your life. It is this essence that compels everyone who hears the blues to listen to more. That is what riveted me to the music of Neftoon Zamora that day.
The sound was ordinary enough, the words unremarkable, but the soul of Neftoon Zamora was indescribable. It crept into my mind like a great truth, ineffable, instructive, uplifting in the way it vaporized the illusion of the material world. I knew I would have to search Zamora out.
I suppose Doc knew this as well, since he took care to give me the very few details he knew of Chuchen. From time to time, most unexpectedly, something like this tape of songs will come into my life and rearrange my priorities. I will drop everything and head off on a search. These are the most exciting times for me, and these adventures require all my balance. Too fast and it's like tearing open the petals of a spring blossom to find the flower and in the process destroying what I was looking for; too slow and the opportunity slips away, closing around me like the sea into the wake of a passing ship. It was a delicate and precise act, this dashing off on an expedition into the unknown. But by this time in my life I was used to these impulses, knew how to pack, when to run and when to walk, when to go and when to stop. This was a time for going.
I listened carefully to Doc's scant instructions, and determined at once to find Chuchen. I said an abrupt thank-you and good-bye, which would have been impolite outside the purview of our friendship and his deep understanding of the force that was upon me. Just as I was about to drive away Doc held up his hand to stop me, reached into his pocket, took out the tape, and tossed it to me. I had forgotten it. He shook his head in a knowing way. "Just remember," he said, "the New Mexico license plate says 'Land of Enchantment' right above the number. A Dios."
I drove all day and into the night until I came to the small town of Quemado in New Mexico. At the café there I asked for directions to Chuchen. The man next to me, a Zuni I think, began to chuckle.
"Son, you've been tricked," he said. "Chuchen is a town Indians tell of when they want to make a fool of a tourist."
I told him I was really looking for Neftoon Zamora and he laughed.
"That's even more of a trick. Neftoon Zamora is an old myth, told by fools to children. Outsiders hear and come looking for him, but he never existed. You are searching for Santa Claus." He winked at the cook behind the counter, got up and left.
In the parking lot I was approached by an old woman selling jewelry. She held up some items and showed me one in particular, a small pendant. She said it had been made by Neftoon Zamora. I couldn't tell if she was serious or not, or whether she had overheard my conversation in the café. I didn't remember seeing her in there.
The pendant was unremarkable and just like many I had seen sold at curio shops. I decided to play along for a bit and asked her to tell me what she knew about Neftoon Zamora.
"Neftoon Zamora was from Chuchen, but Chuchen is gone now. It was east of here, in the mountains, in a place only hikers can get to. It was a small village with no connection to the world. There were maybe a hundred people there once. Neftoon Zamora lived there. She was their chief."
I shouldn't have been so surprised. I don't think it showed. I thought about the recording and realized the voice was genderless, sometimes low like a man's, sometimes high and lilting like a woman's.
"She was a big woman. Six feet tall. Very handsome. She had long sandy hair that hung to her waist and a beautiful body, hard and powerful. She dressed in many different ways, but most like the Navajo, with a velvet shirt and leather pants and white moccasins. This was the pendant she hung around her neck. It was the only jewelry she wore."
"Did you ever see her?"
"Yes. Many times," the woman said. "She would come from the mountains and visit the children in the towns. But all the people would come to hear her stories. This was in Old Horse Springs. She would tell tales and give the children some of the jewelry she had made. I was one of those children. She has not come for many years now. I last saw her when I was eleven."
"Have you ever been to Chuchen?" I asked. "Do you know where it is?"
"No, but there is a man at Apache Creek who knows the way. He is Little Horse. I haven't seen him for years but you can ask anyone there. Whether he is alive, I don't know."
I bought the pendant, as much for the story as anything else, thanked her, and decided to head to Apache Creek.
In the car I put the tape on and listened again to the voice. It was true. There was little to identify the sex. Sometimes Zamora sounded like a woman and sometimes like a man, though when she sounded like a man she really sounded like a man. But one thing was clear. Whether I was searching for Santa Claus or not, no matter if the old woman was playing me for a fool, someone was singing on that tape, someone who was real, someone who sang with an authority and purpose that springs only from the highest musical spirit.
It was night and I was tired, so when the gas station attendant told me of a gravel road that would cut some time off the trip to Apache Creek, I was grateful. I headed east to Pie Town and turned right onto the road. It would be about twenty-five miles to the next paved road.
The soft night air blew through the car window and the moon turned the sky purple as it rose over distant mesas. In this moonlight I could barely make out the figure of a man walking by the side of the road when he suddenly jumped in front of the car and waved me to a stop.
He was an old black man—how old I didn't realize until I pulled to a stop alongside of him and he stuck his face in the window. He must have been ninety. His hair was snowy white and thin, barely covering his head, and his skin was a blue-black that shimmered in the night. His black eyes laid perfectly against pure white.
"Gimme a ride to the highway?" he asked.
We were on a desolate road, I hadn't seen another traveler since I had been driving, so I couldn't say no. He walked around the car and hopped in, sprightly and agile, the age I saw in his face not seeming to affect his movements or presence of mind.
"I'm looking for the town of Chuchen," I said. "Have you ever heard of it?"
"Oh yeah. The home of Neftoon Zamora."
"That's exactly why I'm looking for Chuchen. What do you know about Neftoon Zamora? What can you tell me?"
"Oh," he said, "I knew Zamora well ... was a long time ago, though. Been dead, mebbe fity—sisty years now. Only people I know tries to find Chuchen, really lookin' fu Zamora, not the town."
"But you knew him?" I was excited. Something in his casualness rang of truth. I didn't believe the old woman; I did believe him.
"Oh, yeah. See, I growed up in Chuchen ... well, not all the way up. Left there when I was fifteen. But Zamora come to town, I guess it was when I was around nine or ten. Was a mulatto, black as me but with light skin and long sandy-colored hair. Come from Mis'sipi, tol' me. Got run outta there fu'be'n white. Somebody was white somewhere's cause boaf Mom and Dads was black. Chuchen's a lil' town wif lots a different folks, lots a different race. Was even a Chinese guy there. But mostly Eyetalians. They was almost white but, you know, kindly green-like color to 'em. Chuchen been built up from lotta people got run off from they home. When Zamora gots to Chuchen's when the Indians showed up."
"I thought the Indians built Chuchen."
"Nossir, they was the Anasazi built Chuchen. They left when the Eyetalians come in. No, Indians, like, you know, Bombay and Calcutta. You know, from India. They showed right about the time Zamora come in. Lot of them thought Neftoon was Indian too. But I knows that weren't so. Zamora come from the Delta, tol' me, lil' town on the river called Chotard. Tol' me that anyways. But you know, I never knowed that fu'sure. Wadn' no Indian. Knowed that. Could play music too. A playin' fool. Played music better'n any I heard."
"I know." I turned on the tape I had in the player. "A friend of mine gave me this. That's why I came here, looking for him."
Zamora's voice rang out over the speakers and drifted out across the desert, over the Chamisas, into the night.
"That's Neftoon all right. You know it. Where'd you get that?"
"A friend. I don't know where he got it."
The old man smiled, obviously pleased.
"I haven't heard that sound for years. Oh, my but don't it sound good. Yeah, that's Zamora singin', playin' too. I remember that old guitar. It was a Silvertone or somethin'. Used to play to us and sing. How many songs you got. I don't remember no recordin'."
"There are thirteen on this tape. I've learned some of them, trying to learn all of them. I'm a musician myself."
We were approaching the paved highway and the old man was leaning forward, peering through the window, as if looking for something on the countryside, when the paved road came into view and he began to shuffle in his seat.
"There. This is where I can get out."
"But ... can I buy you dinner, or ..." I was trying to think of some way to get him to tell me more about Neftoon, anything to keep him with me a little longer. "Could you ... do you know where Chuchen is?"
I stopped the car at the intersection and he opened the door and stepped out into the moonlight.
"Where Chuchen is? Hmmm. Cain't get to it by car anyways. I don't think I could find it mysef. Nossir, not by mysef."
I took one last leap.
"Neftoon Zamora ... he was, I mean, he was real. Not like ... Santa Claus?"
"As real as me. Real as that tape. Real as those songs. Thanks fu' the lift."
He walked away from the car, down the highway, and was swallowed in the darkness.
I turned onto the highway toward town when waves of emotion began to roll over me, slowly at first, then wave after wave rushing in, somewhere between terror and awe, between sadness and loneliness, flooding the chambers of thought until it seemed I would drown in tristesse. I pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road, got out, and stood silently in the night air looking up at the stars. Who was that old man? Where was he from? What was his strange accent?
I leaned against the side of the car and gathered my wits. Up in the sky I saw a shooting star. At first, when I look up into a star field, it always appears static, but after a few moments, when the eddies of thought subside and my field of vision settles into expanse, the sky comes alive and I can sometimes see shooting stars. Watching the night sky for a few minutes, the anxiety faded, and I pondered my search for Zamora.
The word that kept rolling around in my mind was Spam. It had many popular uses now in slang but I realized it was more than a word, it is the only real American pate. A crow flew overhead—was this a sign of good luck? A song sprang to mind. I only remembered some of it but it seemed like a good song. Was there a clue here? Then it all faded and I thought about Spam again, a registered trademark for a food product.
I slipped back into the car and put on the tape of Neftoon Zamora. I wanted to see if his could be popular songs as well, but my heart froze as I listened. The tape had changed. It was a language course, in some unusual dialect and tongue. A woman repeated smarmy then said in the new language—ungerret—then smarmy, then a man said ungerret.
Clearly I was being taught an unknown language. I ejected the tape from the player and looked at it. It was the same tape Doc had given me, but now it was different and Neftoon's songs were gone.
All the way out from New Orleans I had listened to the tape and had memorized many of the songs, so I still had them in mind, but the feeling of loss was overwhelming.
It must have been that old man, that old black man with the funny accent who had somehow tampered with my treasured tape and put in this language course. For all I knew that old man could have been Neftoon Zamora himself. At the instant I had that thought another crow flew over—another sign of good luck?
I put the tape back in and listened to more of the language course. The woman said recalcitrant, then a long moan followed by a click of the tongue against the hard palate, then recalcitrant, then a low moan ending this time with a snap of the fingers. I didn't know whether to follow after the old man or continue on my journey, but it was certain I had been given a message. I was really getting ticked off about losing Neftoon's music. I wanted to continue my quest for Chuchen.
I roared up off of the shoulder, throwing a spray of tiny road gravel and screamed into the night. I began to sing the songs of Neftoon in an effort to drown out the language tape, but the louder I sang the louder the tape would play, even though I never touched the volume control. The woman said floral, giggled, and said what sounded like an Arabic number pronounced backwards.
Here, alone with the heartbreak of losing the tape, I became determined to shout down the new tongue. The woman said ineffable and then something like flamella then ineffable then a man said flamella.
A crow flew across the path of the car and I smacked into it, a black rag tumbling into the weeds. In my rearview mirror I saw the crow get up and try to fly off. It didn't seem to be doing too well, sort of listing off to one side and drifting into a circle in the sky. If he keeps that up, I thought, he'll end up right where he started.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Long Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora by Michael Nesmith. Copyright © 1998 Michael Nesmith. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
What People are Saying About This
The Long Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora is a first rate novel, informed by an imagination that turns the story in the direction of myth. To read it is to be enchanted. To have read it is to be haunted. Michael Nesmith is accomplished in several worlds. To these accomplishments he now adds a significant contribution to the world of fiction.
— Author of Man Made of Words and House Made of Dawn
Interviews
On Thursday, November 19th, barnesandnoble.com welcomed Michael Nesmith, to discuss THE LONG SANDY HAIR OF NEFTOON ZAMORA.
Moderator: Welcome to the Auditorium, Michael Nesmith! We are all very excited you could join us this evening to chat about your debut novel, THE LONG SANDY HAIR OF NEFTOON ZAMORA. Your fans have been crowding the gates, so without further adieu, let's go to the audience questions...
Nick Esposito from Jericho, NY: Mr. Nesmith, those of us who've been reading Neftoon since the beginning -- when you began posting and editing the still-experimental pieces in the early days of Videoranch -- know that there is a strong autobiographical element running through the story. Was there a particular incident in your own life that directly spurred the writing of the novel?
Michael Nesmith: The book is symbolic. I drew heavily on my own life, but the symbols are universal. These are issues I have thought about for a long time but have never felt ready to tackle by putting them down in a book. I made some early attempts, but they were awful. I discovered the reason for this was my own life had not informed enough of the spirit I was trying to convey, so the ideas were sort of half-baked. When I moved to New Mexico and had the time to think deeply about things, everything started falling in place to set these ideas out, but it was not a single event, just the slow development over time. I'm looking forward to doing more.
Shane Worden from Oshkosh, WI: Hello, Nez!! Michael, we have known you for many years as an actor, producer, musician and comedian -- but not really as an author. How has writing THE LONG SANDY HAIR OF NEFTOON ZAMORA compared with some of the other undertakings of your career? Additionally, is this something that you would like to focus more of your future energies on? Thanks much!!
Michael Nesmith: NEFTOON ZAMORA was the hardest thing I ever did artistically. But I learned a lot and have started on my second book, and it's a lot easier. I hope to do more, but much will depend on how NEFTOON ZAMORA fairs in the marketplace.
Terri from Cleveland, OH: During a discussion with LittleHorse, Nez starts to answer the question "Do you believe in God?" but is interrupted. Since I have heard the book described as autobiographical, I am curious to know what religion you were brought up with and what religion you embrace now.
Michael Nesmith: I was raised a Christian Scientist. In the first iteration of NEFTOON ZAMORA I got into that, but the editor(s) wanted it out, so I agreed. I studied many religions, spent a lot of time with some of the Eastern teachings, but I find that I have never had a question that the teachings of Christian Science failed to answer. I am most certainly not a proselytizer, though.
Trish Adkinson from Knoxville, TN: As a longtime fan, I was particularly touched by your recollections of your childhood in NEFTOON. How did you come to the decision to weave autobiographical passages into a fictional novel?
Michael Nesmith: In the first iteration online I had even more in there than appear now, but St. Martin's was uncomfortable with it. As I said, though, to Nick, the book is symbolic, not autobiographical, and so I was happy to leave some of the anecdotal elements out, as long as what remained got the point(s) across. The decision to put in the autobiographical elements in the first place had as much to do with a lot of strange and wonderful things happening to me over my life, and I found myself wanting to share that.
Harriet L. Perry from New York City: I think it was very progressive and generous of you to make the first seven chapters of NEFTOON ZAMORA available to your fans via the Internet. My congratulations on your courageous, continued penchant for innovation, as well as on a remarkable work. I have a three-part question for you in light of this: 1) What do you think of the recent controversy regarding the offering of albums as downloadable files on the Net, and the record companies' efforts to block this? 2) Did your publishers have reservations about your posting your work on your site? 3) Would you like to see other authors making their writings available to the public in this way? Thank you, and best wishes for continued success.
Michael Nesmith: I have always believed in the free sample. There is a point at which the author has to get paid, though, so it gets tricky trying to decide just how big a sample to give. I'm expecting to make my music available in MP3, but again, only samples of it, hoping it will interest people enough to buy the whole thing.
Rick from Long Island, NY: Hey, Nez...I've been a longtime fan of all your work, and it comes as no surprise to me that you now add "author" to your long list of accomplishments. I've read that you've written some songs that go along with NEFTOON ZAMORA -- do you have any plans to do a companion album to the book? And let me say thanks for sharing your gift of music with all of us -- it has certainly been a big part of my life!
Michael Nesmith: Thanks. Yeah, I did write some songs to go with Neffie, and they are still around, but I didn't have the time or energy to go and record them. The song "Got to Trust the Pilot" is one of the original ones, and there are a stack of others. Whether I will ever record them will depend on the success of the book. If it tanks, I'll just hum them to myself in the car and annoy Victoria.
Laura from New Orleans, LA: Hi, Michael! First I wanna say that I love your work. Your music, your movies, what I've read of your book so far...it's all terrific. I wanted to ask you about the book-signing tour I've been hearing about. I heard you were supposed to go out this month, but I haven't yet seen any dates and places. Is there gonna be a book-signing tour? Just curious...I'd really like to meet you. Peace and Love.
Michael Nesmith: Sorry, no book-signing tour. There has been a lot of confusion getting the book out. NEFTOON ZAMORA has been finished for a few years now, and the timing just got worse and worse. If the first printing takes off, then I'll go out, but otherwise, it's just me and Videoranch.com and the new 3dVranch.
Jan Swanton from London, England: You mention Rousseau in the novel, to what extent did classical philosophy influence you when you wrote the book?
Michael Nesmith: Well, I also mention "I Love Lucy," and I'm not sure where the emphasis is. I have very little patience with classical philosophers. Rousseau is one that I find particularly silly. Then I never had him over for dinner, and that is really the best way to tell. But he won't take my calls. Is he OK? What ever happened to him? I mean, Buffett still tours, for cryin' out loud.
MM from NJ: Your book's cover shows red rock formations like the ones in Monument Valley (where I just visited recently). Tell us about your love affair with the Southwest landscape.
Michael Nesmith: Well, the Southwest is really a state of mind, from John Ford's "Stagecoach" of John Ford to "Thelma and Louise." I can't describe what happens to one in this territory, but it is magical. I mean even Leone tried to build the Southwest in Italy...and came up with Clint. The sky and the land meet somehow and give substance to the idea of infinity, and that just jacks me up. So to speak.
Angela from North Carolina: When you write, do you think primarily in words or images? Or does it depend on what you're writing -- i.e., song lyrics vs. prose?
Michael Nesmith: The most important thing I learned in writing was to be comfortable with not knowing exactly how the idea would express itself. I thought this was weird at first. I had no real idea how Neffie would end, even though I knew what it was about. But then I found out that all my favorite writers start off blind like that, and I just began to trust the process. Of course the medium is words, and I think in words a lot, but the challenge comes when one encounters the ineffable, or needs to describe something special. That takes a lot of thought of many different types, and a lot of rewriting.
Leisa Heitman from Texas: I enjoyed reading the beginnings of NEFTOON ZAMORA at Videoranch. Where did the idea for the story come from? Did it just evolve as you went along, or did you have a definite idea of where you were headed?
Michael Nesmith: The idea was to convey the existence of a special place inside all of us. Something deep, a kind of mental buzzer that goes off when we get near something that moves us. It had evolved by the time I started to write, but I didn't know the specific beats of the story.
Barbara Oakley from Rhode Island: Is Neffie a real person?
Michael Nesmith: Yes
Dobolina* from Vermont: How did you come to choose the cover art for NEFTOON ZAMORA? Did you have a concept that you shared with an artist, or did an artist present you with his/her idea?.... Have you created any visual art yourself?
Michael Nesmith: I described the art to the folks at St. Martin's, and they rendered the idea. I think they did a good job. It looks just like it did in my mind.
MM from NJ: Your writings so far have all had a similar theme... . NEFTOON ZAMORA is about the "secret place" inside each of us. THE PRISON's big message was, "You were free all the time, you just didn't know it." Those concepts are so similar to the theme of "Head," where the Monkees try to escape the prison their fame has created and find that secret place.... Does everything in your writing and your life go back to that Monkees experience? Are the wounds from that experience still there?
Michael Nesmith: The Monkees have had very little lasting effect on me. It fits somewhere in there with my high school prom, sort of half remembered, a girl with red hair and green eyes and a corsage. It is always a nice spot in my mind, but I was an actor for hire, had bigger fish to fry, and have been frying them ever since. I loved the show, but...
MagBun the Geek from Madison, WI: I read an article in an old Hit Parader magazine in which you mentioned that you had written a book (or giant poem?) about a kid who somehow ended up as a photograph in the sky, but weren't going to publish it, ostensibly for fear of comparison with John Lennon. Does that book exist? Do you plan on publishing it? P.S. -- You rock! Thank you for all you've given to Nezheads and society in general.
Michael Nesmith: Yeah, I tossed that. I was with Lennon a bit in the '60s, during "Sgt. Pepper," (see the documentary?) and was more or less outside everything that was happening there. But, then, when I found myself writing and coming up with various ideas, I was surprised to find a lot of what I was thinking was going on in everybody else's head as well, so I thought I'll just pull back and hum to myself. They all sang better than I did, anyway.
Michelle from Virginia: How did your mother come up with the idea of Liquid Paper?
Michael Nesmith: She was a part-time graphics artist, and they paint out their mistakes. She was a secretary by day, and when the electric typewriter came along, and she kept hitting all the wrong keys, she just connected the dots, and bingo.
Samantha Lane from Waltham, MA: Michael, what was the hardest part about writing this book?
Michael Nesmith: The writing was a joy. I love to write. It's the getting it published and marketed and so forth that is the toughest.
Lorrie from Wisconsin: What did you discover about yourself after writing this book?
Michael Nesmith: I'm writing a new novel now called THE AMERICA GENE. It's all in there. I'm trying to avoid my own personal Las Vegas.
Francie from Atlanta, GA: Greetings, Michael! I have ordered a copy of the book from Videoranch and am eagerly awaiting its arrival. I have one question (actually, too many to ask them all here) to ask you. Do you feel any connection to the dreamtime? When I read and reread (and reread, ad infinitum) the chapters posted on your web site, I could not help but feel the surrealism within the sentences. It is almost like Nez is walking somewhere in the twilight. Did any dream help influence this book? Thanks so much, and peace. ;->
Michael Nesmith: Not much dreamtime going on in here. More magical realism. I find those thoughts most wonderful when they are actively with me, when I am awake.
All of Us from Ohio: Cookies? Chocolate chip or peanut butter?
Michael Nesmith: Oatmeal.
Andia Love from Florida: Hi! Allow me to make this disclaimer: Being one of your younger fans (16, to be exact) I'm just a little nervous about trying to word this question correctly, so if it doesn't make much sense, bear with me. I read the first few chapters of NEFTOON ZAMORA on VR, and was greatly intrigued, especially by the resemblance of your style of writing to Lewis Carroll's. Therefore I have a two-part question. 1) Do you find younger individuals relating much to the abstractness of the ideas presented in the book (I love them); and 2) Will your second novel be any sort of sequel to this one?
Michael Nesmith: Terrific. Lewis Carroll, the company of kings. He is one of my favorites. It seems to be, the younger the better. When one is mature and can think deeply for a long time (by just having the time to do it, I mean) then the ideas hold up. But the first rush of understanding seems to be the provence of youth. Young or old really doesn't have all that much meaning, though, it is the state of mind that counts, time being the illusion that it is.
Samantha from Massachusetts: Who's Victoria?
Michael Nesmith: The one final great love of my life.
Ida from Florida: Hello, Mr. Nesmith, I have a question. As far as songwriting and writing in general goes, who are your major influences?
Michael Nesmith: Cole Porter, Hoagy Carmichael, and Xavier Cugat.
Cynthia Perkins from Gasport, NY: I've been very impressed with all that you've accomplished over the years. I've been a longtime fan. I was wondering if Neffie from your book is made up partly of people you've met along the way, or is she someone entirely imaginative?
Michael Nesmith: She is an amalgam in the book, but she represents the various parts of the ideas the books contained. I have never met anyone person who embodies all the qualities Neffie does in the book.
Barb from Cincinnati, OH: Michael, What's the last good book you read?
Michael Nesmith: The last one was LOVE IN THE TIME OF CHOLERA by Gabriel García-Márquez.
Cinzia from Florence, Italy: Ciao! What was the most exciting and interesting place that you ever traveled to?
Michael Nesmith: I love the Riviera, and spent some happy times there. Baja California has always been a special place for me, as is the Southwest, but I recently went to Dublin, and have never been as affected by a city as I was by it. Something in the water, in the air, in the eyes of its people. My spirit soared. But in the last analysis, it makes little difference where I am; so long as the spirit of great art and beauty are expressed, I am happy.
Sarah from Missouri: Who are your favorite authors or the ones that influence your writing the most?
Michael Nesmith: García-Márquez, Italo Calvino, Milan Kundera, all sitting at the feet of Lewis Carroll.
Lindsay Sample from Pittsburgh, PA: Hey, Mike, just wondering where in the name os Sonny Bono you came up with the title of the book.... Not making fun of it or anything, but there seems to be a story behind everything; how the Hermits got their group name, the Mijacogeo name, etc. I just wondered why you chose this title. And another question: Any issues on "The Princess Show" (Fairy Tale) in your book? :) ~Jewels
Michael Nesmith: It came to me one day when I was standing in front of my bookshelf. A voice spoke, maybe it was the neighbor, and it said THE LONG SANDY HAIR OF NEFTOON ZAMORA, over and over and over and over until I finally said, "All right already, I'll call it that. Sheesh."
Diane from Pennsylvania: Hi, Mike! I have been mesmerized by your many talents, from acting to singing, etc., etc.... I would just like to know, where is your favorite place to write?
Michael Nesmith: I write on my computer in my studio in my home in New Mexico; that's the only place I ever tried, but I'm thinking of taking a cruise and...
Cat from Bristol,VA: I know you probably have better things to do than answer this, but.... If Liquid Paper dries practically as soon as hits air, how did you get it out of a ketchup bottle into one of the little containers?
Michael Nesmith: They were squeeze bottles. Stick the little pointy end in the bottle and squeeeeeze. No air got in.
Jessica Nienstedt from Oshkosh, WI: You mentioned earlier in this chat that Neffie is a real person. Is it too personal to ask who?
Michael Nesmith: Yep.
Magnolia from Silver Lake, CA: What music have you been listening to lately?
Michael Nesmith: I can't pronounce or spell their names. I went out and bought all the recommended titles in the September issue of Wired and listened to them. Once or twice. Then it's back to Rachmaninoff, Bernstein's "Rhapsody in Blue" with the New York Philharmonic, and the French Impressionist composers, Ravel and Debussy. No, not "Bolero," but I've heard worse.
Oatmeal Cookie Monster from Cookie Land: *hands Nez some homemade oatmeal cookies*
Michael Nesmith: Nez virtually scarfs and then blows down some milk.rwx
Cat from Bristol, VA: Hi. Its me again. I'm a young writer,just starting out. Any words of wisdom?
Michael Nesmith: Yes, but not wisdom, just encouragement. Do it! Make it happen. Ideas are the most important currency we have. The more the merrier.
Andy from Britain: Hi, Michael. In later chapters on the Internet it seemed to me at one point that the novel would develop into a UFO story. Have you ever witnessed a UFO encounter in the New Mexico desert, and if you haven't, do you believe in them?
Michael Nesmith: No, and beats me.
Starbright from San Francisco, CA: Nez -- what's your opinion on waffles?
Michael Nesmith: Well, ummm, sometimes I think this, then I think maybe I should think this and not that, then again, I think maybe it should be that and not this, and then it just keeps going on like that until I'm not hungry anymore.
Moderator: Thank you so much for joining us, tonight, Michael Nesmith! On behalf of your devoted fans who came online to chat with you, we're thrilled you took the time to answer all our questions! Before you go, do you have any closing comments for your audience?
Michael Nesmith: Does this mean I have to leave?
Sarah Ervin from Waco, TX: Mr. Nesmith, I think you're a really great man in everything you do and have done, and I have one question: In your long, successful, and productive musical career, is there one song out of all of them that you are particularly proud of, and if so, why?
Michael Nesmith: I like "Rio" and "Tapioca Tundra."
Stephanie from California: Mike, I heard that you were getting involved in some sort of movie version of THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY. Is this true? And if so, when's it coming out?
Michael Nesmith: Sold it to Disney. Summer 2000, big movie.
Samantha from Waltham Mass: Have you heard/read the booked called SHE'S COME UNDONE? I find a great similarity between your book's character and the main character in that book. If you have ever read it, have you been influenced by its author?
Michael Nesmith: Haven't read it.
Sabrina from Texas: Of all the accomplishments that you've achieved in your life, which one are you the proudest of?
Michael Nesmith: Whatever has been impelled by the Spirit is the most fulfilling; personal accomplishments really are a misnomer.
Jan Swanton from London, England: Not really a question...but did you notice "Neftoon Zamora" is an anagram of "amor, a toon f'Nez" (love, a song for Michael).... When I spotted it, I couldn't believe it!
Michael Nesmith: I didn't either, until you pointed it out. Nice note.
Carrie from Walla Walla, WA: Okay, we've established Neffie's state of reality. Now, more importantly, are you a real person? ;)
Michael Nesmith: Yes...yes, sure...ummmmm...
K.Lyn from Colorado: Do you ever get writer's block, and, if so, how do you overcome it?
Michael Nesmith: I do not. Writer's block means one can't write, I assume, so I don't, but I don't think of it as a block, just a "not now," and I go do something else.
Linda Deng from Weston, FL: So, Nez...exactly what type of furniture do fish eat, anyway?
Michael Nesmith: Chippendale.
Moderator: Well, I didn't mean to boot you out so soon -- thank you for staying to chat for a little while longer! Now, before you go, do you have any last words for your fans tonight?
Michael Nesmith: It looks like the chat is over, so goodnight all. May the Spirit of Peace, Truth, and Beauty be your guide, steer you clear of weird 'burgers, and above all, help you watch! So long, and thanx for the ride. nez