There's this scene in my novel, Porn Happy, where Lucy Love, who's a reporter, is standing at the window of her office at the San Francisco Times. Night is falling, it begins to rain, and the neon light of the adult theater across the street lights up. The name of the movie is "PORN TO BE ALIVE," and the star is Annie Body. Lucy clicks the heels of her red stilettos together three times. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. That's when the telephone rings. In his clock tower office, William Randolph Hearst III sits across from Lucy behind his felled redwood desk. Behind him, one clock hand points to heaven and the other clock hand points to hell. Last night, he was at the Trocadero Tropicana Hotel and Casino Good Luck Club with Henry Denton, bon vivant of the City by the Bay, and a Japanese whale, wearing black tie, playing a rich man's game: What's in Your Wunderkammer? And that was when he heard this word, the one he's written on a piece of paper and passed across his desk to her because he won't dare say it outloud. This is the word that will send her back to Porn Valley to get her story.
