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I reduced Paramore the Jean-Betty tale to sound bites and sold

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I reduced reveals paramore pressure the Jean-Betty never let this go retells tale to sound bites and sold it wholesale The book was passionate and achingly rendered. My publicity performances were compelling and glib concurrently The tour was an effort of banishment I addressed Jean and Betty brusquely. I've surmounted you, I've superseded your influence, I'm done with you now. I was wrong. I decided to live in L. A. -then exclusively I wrote "The Big Nowhere" and lived in L. A 1950 "L. A Confidential" covered '50 to '58 "White Jazz" ran into '59 I called the body of work the L. A Quartet. I told the Jean-Betty tale to the point of mind-numbing attenuation and riffed blithely on L. A. -then Repetition killed the wonder of L. A. -then for me My trips to now-L. A confirmed my burnout I had a name, I had money I lived in hotel suites and chased women I tried to reclaim L. A on the basis of my success It didn't work I decided to leave L. A creatively I decided to write non-L. A books. My personal life advanced recklessly. I met a woman, married her, divorced her and married another woman I moved from New York to Connecticut to Kansas City My work habits were megalomaniacal. I guzzled large carafes of coffee and wrote 300-page outlines for my novels My books were monumental models of construction My book tours were epic journeys My friends warned me to slow down I ignored them. "American Tabloid" was published in '95.

It was a big look at systemic corruption during Jack Kennedy's ride I turned L. A. -then into the U. S. A. -then I upgraded my L. A vision to the whole country I thought I'd knocked L. A out of me paramore lyrics Paramore - wikipedia . I thought I had my hometown dicked. Again, I was wrong. Events intersected A reporter friend saw my mother's murder file He was writing a story on San Gabriel Valley homicides My wife got me a Christmas gift It was a news photo dated 6/22/58 I stood in a neighbor's garage I was blank-faced all we know is falling . A cop had just said, "Son, your mother's dead. "I can read signs I know confluence I know opportunity. I hustled a magazine assignment Go--see your mother's file and write about it. L. A slammed me anew I flew out and saw the file paramore tour 2010 . A sheriff's detective named Bill Stoner walked me through it It was pure neck-prickle revelation It was my mother and L. A Paramore . Paramore tickets -then uncontainable I knew I had to write the magazine piece into a book parmore . I knew I had to reinvestigate my mother's murder Paramore - paramore . I hustled a book deal and cut Bill Stoner in for a percentage We tracked my mother's killer for a year and a half We drove around and rediscovered L. A. It was a brand-new L. A The San Gabriel Valley redux. Still smog-smacked, still sun-seared, mucho multicultural now. New freeway loops, potent pollution, many mini-malls with nail nooks and Thai take-out. We looped We talked We read file reports, ran interviews, cataloged clues I discovered my mother, now more alive than dead I began to love her for real We did not find her killer It didn't matter I found a portent of her My collateral discovery was portents of L. A now and then. New migrations Immigrants galore Tailors, spice merchants, doughnut entrepreneurs.