Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ and

Monday, July 23, 2007

Nor'easter Monday

We have a nor'easter, very unusual for July, going on here today. "Nor'easter" being a word that we who live in the Nor'east love to use. It's basically a backwards storm pattern: coming upon us from the southwest and swinging around with winds out of the northeast. Generally our storms come from the northwest and west...

But it means it's cool and lovely, temps in the 60s!!! And big wind coming straight in my window, billowing the curtains, and rain rattling on the a/c and hissing in the street. Lovelovelove it.

I think I shall spend the day in bed, eating fried shrimp and rereading Harry. The gym can wait till tomorrow. But tonight I get down to work in earnest on "California Screamin': Murder at Monterey Pop." I've scored the DVD on eBay, for research purposes, not that I haven't already researched extensively in numerous books, including bios/autobios of the Dead, the Airplane, Grace Slick, David Crosby, Janis, the Mamas and the Papas, Brian Jones, Jimi and the Who. Plus two superb books on the Summer of Love and the Festival itself by my fellow critic Joel Selvin (nice guy, friend of my former editor, interviewed me for Days), and a fun one by publicist extraordinaire Derek Taylor.

The murders are rather creative and pretty nasty, if I do say so myself, and Rennie meets Turk for the first time, though no blue sparks go off for them. All that comes later.


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