I have been involved in a now-long-running attempt to reclaim a bank account I established at the Bank of America in Chicago in 2003. I needed to have a bank to “close” on a condo there that was going to be my daughter’s residence while she attended DePaul for College. The year was 2003. I do not remember why I selected the Bank of America. Perhaps it was the proximity of the branch on West Roosevelt and Canal.
Later, I opened a literary account with them, as well, one for which I got no reports for 7 years. Of course, it is possible that reports were sent to my old AOL account, but there are 375,000 pieces of unread e-mails in that one, while I have been using Gmail for at least the past ten years. The state of Illinois has circled, vulture-like, on 3 occasions, trying to take the funds in my literary account, declaring it “abandoned.” On each occasion I have written them a REAL letter saying the account was NOT abandoned, but that I was merely blogging these days and no longer writing “long.”
David Morrell (yes, THE David Morrell, creator of “Rambo”) told me during a one-on-one conversation at a Writers for New Orleans conference many years ago that I should establish a separate bank account for my literary earnings. I hoped this meant that he saw promise for me as a writer. I have revised that opinion downward. It was probably very good advice—-if you’re David Morrell.
For me, it has set up a cumbersome set of aggravating interactions with the Bank of America that make the Pope’s experiences in trying to arrange for a transfer of funds from a Chicago bank an object lesson in questionable customer service. It’s lengthy and frustrating and almost impossible to explain, but I shall try in some installments.
But first let me share with you the story of the Pope trying to gain access to HIS Chicago money and being told that he, too, had to come in, in person, with 2 forms of ID.
Pope Leo explained that he was out of the country and would not be able to come in in person. He asked, “Would it help if I told you I was the Pope?:
The bank hung up on him.
THE BEGINNING
I made three trips, on foot, from my condominium to the Roosevelt Road location to set up direct transfer of funds from my Amazon account to this literary account. Most of it had to do with e-books. It is at least a mile if you walk it. I walked it in those first days after retirement, giving me some much-needed exercise after I wrote all night long in my writer’s lair.
From 2003 to 2019 I was productive, at least, once writing through the worst blizzards in Chicago history and watching the sun come up over the Field Museum building across the street from me. I remember these two blizzards well, as I wrote through them and never left the building while motorists abandoned their vehicles on Lake Shore Drive, which I could see from my window:
January 31-February 2, 2011, 21.2″
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I had hoped that David Morrell recognized dormant talent when he suggested I open a literary account.Ran into him again as a panelist at the last Hawaii Writers’ Conference.Think he selected one cover illustration over another when I asked his opinion. Got a blurb from a complete stranger who wrote “Flashback” (very nice guy). Did not get any help for my effort(s) from “Rambo’s” father. But I did have that special “literary” account, awaiting riches beyond my wildest dreams.
I did my best, advertising using Amazon and Facebook. Videos were made for various books (“The Color of Evil,” “Hellfire & Damnation”). Most videos are still up on YouTube and the e-books, at least, survive. Some videos are now making a belated appearance on Instagram and TikTok. (I hope the Chinese don’t sell all my contact information).
Alas, the flow of riches that Morrell experienced in his legendary career did not flow to Yours Truly. My account had brief moments of solvency. But, in 2019 when DJT was running for office the first time, neither Amazon nor Facebook would allow me to advertise the “BEE GONE” satirical take-down of Trump’s contest with Hillary Clinton UNLESS I CHANGED THE COVER. I refused.
Things took a dark turn. I became one of DJT’s first victims of retribution for the crime of making light of Donald J. Trump. In that regard, I was and am in good company. If only the Seth Meyers-es and the Jimmy Kimmels would mention my little book, which has admirers amongst those who think Trump is absolutely awful, [like Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut, who recently gave us the video detailing “500 Days of Corruption.”]
The MAGA threats on Amazon increased and even a few relatives bought into Trump’s always-changing lies and distortions at that early point in time. For my part, I think the dangers the small book pointed out were right on target. I’m still very proud of it, especially of the great illustrations from Gary McCluskey. And I hope the relatives have realized the error of their vote(s).
I quickly leoarned that mocking DJT, even very gently, was not well-received in MAGA-land. In addition to negative and violent attacks on my fairly gentle take-down of the Orange One, I’ve only come that close to death threats during the presidential run of 2008, blogging for Associated Content, when Yahoo named me its Content Producer of the Year for Politics and got me inside the DNC in Denver. People who had read my prediction that Obama would carry Iowa would say things like, “I’m going to come back and make you eat those words.”
Only they did not. Because I tip-toed off to review film for The Movie Blog and did not look back. Until the phone call fro Quixote Books while wintering in Texas.
It was one of the single greatest political nights of my life when Obama won, not only in Iowa, but secured the Democratic nomination and the presidency. That was then; this is now. It was a different country, then, with hope and optimism and “Yes, we can” vibes. What are we now?
Before I move on from this story of how I was a precursor of Stephen Colbert, told I could not advertise “BEE GONE” on my normal channels (Facebook, Amazon) unless I changed the cover (which I refused to do), let me relate a true story. The thin-skinned DJT apparently did not like the depiction of himself as a bumblebee (a drone) intent on taking over the hive from the Queen Bee. Killer illustrations and prescient observations (made in 2019) like:
“So, the hive lost its honey,
Its queen, and its money.
It was really a mess,
And that isn’t funny.”
My Bank of America personal account that I set up for auto-pay things (HOA dues, electricity, gas, etc.) remained active, but I tip-toed away from the literary account, leaving it to whatever e-book sales might occur. I also quit bothering to check on my Amazon dashboard, which means that I soon lost my ability to remember the password. Why bother? I was done writing “long,” as I called it.
Or was I?
GHOSTLY TALES REVISITED
While I was sitting out the winter in sunny Austin, I received a call from Iowa’s largest publishing concern, Quixote Press. They wanted to revive and redo Volume One of “Ghostly Tales of Route 66,” which they had first published in 2012, because it was the 100th anniversary of the opening of Route 66.
Some changes were to be made, including new material, but the “Resurrection Mary” story that I slaved over in 2007, [which was one of the winners of a Chicago “Tribune” scary story competition 5 years before the book came out], was omitted. There still is a “Resurrection Mary” story that I sleuthed out with my daughter-in-law in tow many years later, but the explanation of how the myth of Resurrection Mary came to be was spelled out more fully in earlier books pictured.
But the first Volume One had a very bad cover (IMHO) and some very short stories that were not up-to-par. It also was never “proofed” prior to publication, for reasons that I cannot explain. I handed it in and the next thing I knew, it was “out there.” It had no pictures, unlike volumes 2 and 3, which depict my travels along the road from Chicago to Santa Monica.
Normally, I might not have bitten on the project, but the publication site for Quixote Books had moved from Wever, Iowa, near Burlington to my old hometown of Independence, Iowa. Bruce and Marilyn Carlson sold the business to Shari Hartkmeyer and, subsequently. Sadly, Bruce died in March of 2026, having sold over two million books. I always told Bruce that I was looking for a ghost that could cook, since he had cornered the market on ghost books and cookbooks. I’m still searching for that Culinary Casper.
It must be a sign from above that the new home of Quixote Books (and the Hearts and Tummies cookbooks) was Independence, Iowa. Now we could properly proof the stories I had written and put on a better cover. Also, we could remove the clip art, but that didn’t happen. Still, it is a collection of tales told me on the long journey from Illinois to California. I investigated to the best of my ability, unlike someone sitting in their living room (without the Internet) making up extremely short stories with no story “arc .”
If you want to read the lengthier backgrounding that I undertook for the story of Resurrection Mary, you might need to purchase the older books, too, but that’s completely up to you. I won’t be taking them to future Printers’ Row outings, because the reprint is much more error-free and has new material and a better cover.
Now comes the part about my dealings with the Bank of America that I will have to serialize, since it is an ongoing struggle the likes of which anyone who has ever attempted to do something by phone with a bot on the othr end can relate to.
End of Installment One