Who Killed Tupac Shakur?

From PR-USA.NET Photo, above, is last one taken of Tupac alive (from cover of The Killing of Tupac Shakur. Who Killed Tupac? Interview by Anton Batey with Cathy Scott Who killed Tupac? Was it really Suge Knight, Crips or police? Why wasn’t the case ever officially solved? This insightful interview with Cathy Scott conducted by Anton Batey attempts to answer these questions. Award winning journalist Cathy Scott, author of several books and featured in the 2pac DVDs Before I Wake and Tupac Assassination, and will be featured in Part II of Tupac Assassination, is interviewed regarding the murder of rap icon Tupac Shakur. Interviewer Anton Batey asks Cathy a wide range of questions, talk at length about Orlando Anderson, the alleged killer of Tupac, the “Suge Killed Tupac” theory, the police investigation, Tupac’s record deal and much more. If you have any interest in justice, you’ll want to hear this! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Interview is about 45 minutes in lengh. Contact Anton Batey at Anton_Batey@yahoo.com

A Monthly Arts and Literature Review

I just came across this book review in OPEN LETTERS: A Monthly Arts and Literature Review and wanted to include it here. Review of Pawprints of Katrina by Steve Donoghue When Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans in August 2005, dozens and dozens of city blocks became inundated swamplands of festering sludge, and thousands of people were displaced and evacuated, n most not knowing when – or even if – they’d ever be able to return. The haphazard squalor of their subsequent fates became the shame of a nation, but there were those who suffered even worse – the pets left behind in the drowned ruins of the city. Cathy Scott was embedded with the Best Friends Animal Society, a group that ended up rescuing nearly half the estimated fifteen thousand stray or stranded animals scrounging and starving in the wake of the storm. In this meticulously-reported (albeit ploddingly written) account, she tells the stories of all the desperate animals, and all the heroic volunteers who boarded flatboats and searched through attics and garages to find them (the included photographs by Clay Myers, of formerly pampered cats and dogs reduced to haunted-eyed scavengers skulking in the wreckage, are indelibly wrenching). These are stirring stories, and Scott tells them all – lacking a more poetic touch, this will certainly be the definitive account of Katrina animal rescue. Everything’s here: the owners cruel enough to leave chained and fenced dogs behind; the kittens and puppies born right as Katrina or Rita made landfall, the white-faced older animals who survived against all odds. And, happily, the beginnings of legislation to prevent such ancillary tragedies from happening again:

As a result [of the media attention given to abandoned pets], Hurricane Katrina was a wake-up call with a resounding message: along with people, pets also need to be protected during a disaster. What came out of the televised images, as the world watched in horror, was the vow never to let it be repeated. Katrina proved that people need to be prepared, from individuals putting identifying tags on their pets’ collars or microchipping them to cat owners keeping crates on hand to government officials at all levels mandating provisions for not only humans but their pets.

The essential promise all good, conscientious animal owners make to their charges is rock-bottom simple: I will protect you from harm. If legislation arising from the tragedy of Katrina helps in the keeping of that promise, then some good will have come of those high waters. Photo of first responder Craig Hill in the Lower Ninth Ward by Clay Myers.

Looking back, moving forward

Photo of Ali MacGraw, with Jemima, and Cathy Scott, with Mia, by Clay Myers. The year 2008 was more than good to me. Pawprints of Katrina, a book near to my heart, was released to a crowd of 200 at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in southern Utah on a beautiful July day. There to welcome the book was actress and animal advocate Ali MacGraw, who lent her good name to the project by writing a beautiful foreword. In late January, I walked with volunteers, and covered, the Mardi Gras Barkus Parade. We received a rousing welcome from the crowd and VIP stand as we carried the Best Friends Animal Society's banner through New Orleans’ French Quarter. One weekend, I taught a writers' workshop for Authors of the Flathead in Kalispell, Montana, and met wonderfully inspiring future authors eager to make their mark in the literary world. I went on a book tour that included, besides the kick-off event in Kanab, Utah, a signing in La Jolla, CA, at Warwick's, three signings in Las Vegas, one in Santa Fe (more about that, below), Washington, D.C., and went on numerous speaking engagements. In September, I spoke at the 2008 National Book Festival in Washington, D.C., on the Mall before 250 people about the animals rescued from Hurricane Katrina. I had breakfast at the White House and dinner at the Library of Congress, both hosted by First Lady Laura Bush, who has pushed literacy during her eight years in D.C. It was an incredible weekend and one I won't soon forget. Then, in November, photographer Clay Myers, whose heartwarming photos grace the pages of Pawprints of Katrina, his wife, Cathie, and I flew to Santa Fe, New Mexico, for a book signing there with Ali MacGraw, where she lives. It's been a joy getting to know her. She's unpretentious, giving and truly cares about all creatures. She took us for a quiet dinner at Cafe Pasqual, where the red carpet was rolled out. The book signing at Garcia Street Books was a great success, with many of Ali's friends stopping by. I now count Ali and her son Josh Evans and daughter-in-law Charis Michelsen as friends. They're grounded, thoughtful people and I'm richer for knowing them. For two days, I walked a precinct with childhood friend Vickie Pynchon -- blogger, mediator/negotiator, author, literary editor extraodinaire in Los Angeles -- and then attended a November 4 election party with Vickie and her husband, attorney Stephen Goldberg, at the Rio Hotel in Las Vegas. Vickie was one of 1,000 attorneys who converged in Las Vegas -- because Nevada was a swing state -- to make sure all was copacetic at the polls. I have another true crime book in the works -- and a contract with St. Martin's Press True Crime Library -- and I have assignments I'm working on for Best Friends Magazine and Web site. Life is good. I look forward to 2009. I'm enormously grateful to readers and animal lovers worldwide!

'loves me loves me not'

I've just been published in the latest online edition of R.KV.R.Y. Quarterly Literary Journal. My good friend Victoria Pynchon is editor-in-chief of the online magazine she founded four years ago and has invited me in the past to submit something nonjournalistic. So I finally, last summer, got around to writing a literary nonfiction piece I'd been toying with for years. It's not that it was too lengthy to write; it was the topic that was difficult -- dredging up the past and all. After a couple false starts, I hunkered down and finished it. And then Vickie accepted it for inclusion in her quarterly. I'm thrilled to sit on a page beside Vickie and her esteemed stable of literary writers. My contribution is titled "Loves me loves me not." Writing it was definitely cathartic (which you'll understand once you've read it), while, at the same time, quite private. I feel a bit naked, now that it's in a quarterly and on the Internet for all to see. But, life and circumstances happen, and we move on. That's what I tried to do, successfully or not. Today, for me, it feels like it happened in another lifetime. C'est la vie. You can read it here.

A Letter from Laura Bush

Just before Thanksgiving, I received a letter from First Lady Laura Bush, thanking me for participating in the 2008 National Book Festival. What struck me about the letter was that it spoke directly to the 30-minute speech I gave -- one of several dozen given throughout the day on the National Mall. Originally, I thought the First Lady probably didn't write it herself -- that she just signed it -- but I was told by her former personal speech writer Charlie Fern that Mrs. Bush works side-by-side with writers and takes the time to personalize correspondence herself. Her letter mentioned that the Pavilion I was in was overflowing with people who listened to my speech that September day. The story of a 12-year-old boy and a dog named Cujo brought the audience to tears at the Eighth Annual National Book Festival in Washington, D.C. Just retelling it brought me to tears as well. Cujo's is one of many stories in my book Pawprints of Katrina. I was one of 70 grateful authors, illustrators and poets invited to the weekend’s prestigious event, organized and sponsored by the Library of Congress and hosted by First Lady Laura Bush. I spent the weekend in the company of such authors, writers and poets as Salman Rushdie, Tiki Barber, Cokie Roberts, Kimberly Dozier, Jon Scieszka, Judith Viorst, Daniel Schorr, Bob Schieffer and Eleanor Clift. I spent time with Pauline Frommer, author with her father, Arthur, of Frommer's Travel Guides, because we share the same publisher -- John Wiley & Sons. We hung out in the Hospitality Pavilion with PJ Campbell and Keira Kordowski, in charge of events at Wiley, as we waited for our respective events to begin. All the writers ate breakfast in the State Dining Room in the East Wing of the White House. Afterward, Mrs. Bush went outside with us, on the White House steps, and a photographer took our photo (above; that's me, second row, fourth from the right wearing a white blouse with a Best Friends Animal Society logo). Having a book about the rescue of pets from Katrina included in the festival was special beyond words. And getting an acknowledgment, no matter our politics, from Laura Bush, who promotes reading through the Library of Congress, was the icing on the cake.

Time flies ... too fast

Time flies by, so much so that nearly 16 years passed before seeing school friend Noni McGowan's son again. Circumstances changed, and Morgan moved to Michigan when he was around 13. The last time I saw him he was 18; he was in town and showed up on a holiday, at my doorstep, to say goodbye before leaving for Michigan again. Growing up, he spent weekends at my beach house in South Mission Beach (San Diego) with my son, Raymond, and me. For a few months, he and his mom lived with me. Morgan loved hanging out at Hamel's Surf Shop, located on the boardwalk, to inline skate and skateboard just north of the lifeguard tower. Earlier this week, Morgan was in San Diego with his family, so I flew down for the day for a get-together at Sammy's Woodfired Pizza in Pt. Loma. It was great fun, reminiscing. It was as if no time at all had gone by. Morgan went on to college, graduated, moved to Kalamazoo, now works for a communications company and has a family of his own. I couldn't be more proud if he were my own son. Group photo (standing), Morgan, Emma, Drew, Cathy, Cordelia, Bob, Claire, Raymond, and (seated), Karen and Jake.

NPR Features 'Beneath the Neon'

I stumbled across a front-page story on National Public Radio's site a couple days ago. To my pleasant surprise was a feature story and interview of my friend Matt O'Brien about his wanderings underground in Las Vegas. The story and radio interview, titled "Sucked Into The Tunnels Beneath Las Vegas," can be heard and read here.

Matt’s research is a five-year, hands-on study of a different kind for Las Vegas' underworld; this one isn't connected to the Mob. His book Beneath the Neon, released in 2007, was reviewed by local media as well as national, including Salon.com. And CBS weighed in too. Getting on NPR, however, was a real coup.

It's amazing what a national presence brings. Sales rankings on Amazon for Beneath the Neon rose to between 1,000 and 2,000, which is an incredible ruler for how it's doing online -- very well, in my book. A few days later, it was back down to 10,000 (which is still very much a respectable sales ranking).

Matt's a humble guy and kept the news of the story mostly to himself.

"Is it on your blog?" I asked him.

"Nah, I didn't want to look like I was bragging."

"Brag," I told him. "Post it."

Being the modest guy he is, the NPR story still isn't posted on his blog, so I'm blogging it for him by posting it to my own blog. Here's to you, Matt. Congratulations.

Not-so-distant look back at competitive news coverage

Charlie Fern, an editor in the early '90s at the now-closed Vista Press, a daily newspaper in North San Diego County, reminded me recently in a Twitter comment of the strong competitiveness we had in the newsroom in those days. The 50-year-old Vista Press was in direct competition with the San Diego Union's North County edition. The Union (this was before it merged to become the San Diego Union-Tribune) was huge by comparison. Still, Charlene, who was managing editor -- and my boss -- of the Vista Press, an Andrews McMeel Universal-owned paper, recalled that we scooped the SD Union on a regular basis. Maybe it was because the reporters all had fire in their bellies to get it first. This last weekend, she started a Twitter conversation about her view of some print reporters and their current complacency. ""Do what you say and say it in color," Charlene said, "because it matters." The Vista Press, she wrote on Twitter (quite complimentary), "was at its best (when Cathy Scott, Russell Klika, Leslie Hueholt, etc., were there), proving a small paper could run circles around a metro. We had a great, competitive staff, for the most part, and a lot of competition. That drives excellence." She also reminded me of a breaking story I wrote, on deadline and calling it in from the scene, of a garbage truck worker who, while standing behind a truck with a full load, was buried alive underneath garbage. It took an army of law enforcement -- and even medium-security California state prisoners -- 12 hours to locate his body. I remained at the scene and Charlene held the presses until the story was done. It made the first edition in the morning, beating the other papers in the area. "Holding the presses was thrilling, even if I got in trouble for it," she said. While at the Vista Press, I also covered Camp Pendleton Marine Corps base, went on training missions with Marines on base and out to sea, and to Somalia to cover Operation Restore Hope. Fellow reporters and photogs at that small paper mostly moved on to bigger and better journalism jobs: Klika, for one, became a combat photographer, with two tours of duty in Iraq, and is now a civilian combat photo instructor for the National Guard; Leslie moved on to the Tulsa World; Deniene Husted to the Los Angeles Times, I went to the Las Vegas Sun, and Charlene, well, she went to work at the White House (after first going to the Texas governor's mansion) as Laura Bush's personal speechwriter. Many others who came before us have moved upward and onward too. North San Diego County was a fertile training ground for us. We worked our tails off, learned to crunch on deadline and also felt the sense of accomplishment with the occasional scoop over our seemingly giant neighbor, the SD Union. It was David and Goliath, and occasionally David won. Photo, by Russell Klika, of Cathy gearing up to board a military helicopter at Camp Pendleton to cover an exercise over the Pacific Ocean.

Reasons to be thankful

Three years ago this week I was at a Hurricane Katrina rescue center in Tylertown, Mississipi, covering the holiday for Best Friends Animal Society. Writing about rescued animals. Working with them. Writing about volunteers. Getting to know them. What a difference three years make. Animal consultant Sherry Woodard took time out to play with a dozen pups (pictured above) -- all post-Katrina victims, born on the streets. They were lucky. Last year I was in Pahrump, Nevada, spending an outdoor Thanksgiving (photo above) covering an unTurkey dinner (delicious) with volunteers who spent their holiday caring for 800 cats confiscated from a hoarding situation. Lots to be thankful for this year. Wonderful job with Best Friends as a staff writer. Nice gig in my spare time writing books. Great old friends. Great new friends. Great family. GREAT companion dogs. Speaking of, I'm taking my three critters hiking in Red Rock Canyon Thanksgiving morning -- just my dogs and me -- then to a friend's house for dinner with my good friend and fellow writer Chip. Good company with my dogs in the morning in a beautiful, quiet natural setting, then good company later with friends in a festive environment. Peace and a happy, safe Thanksgiving to one and all! Photos by me.

Viva Santa Fe

I'm heading with my Katrina dog Mia to Santa Fe, New Mexico, for a second book signing for Pawprints of Katrina with Ali MacGraw -- this one on her home turf. We leave tomorrow, arrive at the Albuquerque airport in the afternoon and wait for photographer Clay Myers and his wife Cathie to arrive. Then we'll drive to Santa Fe, check into our hotel and then meet Ali for dinner. The next day, we head to Garcia Street Books for a book signing (4 to 5 p.m.). I was on local public radio this morning in Santa Fe. A crowd is expected, so it should be fun. Will blog about it, plus Clay is taking photos (and his wife will be stepping in to take some of him with us as well). I'll post them here and also on Mia's blog.

Cartoonist sues SoCal paper

Steve Kelley, one-time political and social cartoonist for the San Diego Union-Tribune, has sued his former employer. Kelley is claiming unfair competition after he says he was employed to sketch a joint comic strip -- scheduled to begin running in the Union-Trib this year -- with Steve Breen, the paper's current editorial cartoonist. The deal, however, fell flat. For its part, the paper has denied any wrongdoing, and its attorneys have countered by asking a San Diego County Superior Court judge to toss out the suit. The case is expected to be heard in February of next year. There's no love lost between Kelley and the Union-Trib. In May 2001, he was fired over a dispute about a drawing killed by the editorial-page editor before it was published because it showed partial butt cracks of two teenagers. After Kelley was sacked, he went to work as an editorial cartoonist for the New Orleans Times- Picayune while continuing to live in San Diego. Meanwhile, the family owned San Diego daily, affectionally known to locals as the U-T, is for sale. So far, three rounds of lay-offs and buy-outs have occurred as the paper tries to stay afloat during tough economic times. Cartoon by Steve Kelley, copyright The Times-Picayune To read more, click here.

Red carpet Hollywood-style -- Behind-the-scenes

Late last week, I covered a celebrity event and found myself surrounded by paparazzi at a red-carpet affair in Hollywood. The media were there for the Best Friends' fundraiser, but as each celebrity appeared and walked down the red carpet, some reporters asked them about everything except the real reason they were there -- the cause for Los Angeles-area animals -- at the newly renovated Hollywood Palladium. "What do you think of the presidential election?" The Hollywood Reporter asked Rene Russo. Looking surprised, she paused for a second and said it was great, that she liked the outcome. Robert Culp said the same thing, then got down to the business at hand by talking about his cat and his wife, Candace Faulkner. "Candace and I got together because our cats hate each other," he told the reporter. They lived a few houses away from each other and their cats used to fight. "That was years ago," Culp continued. "Then we met again at a FedEx office, and here we are." Then he kissed her. Some celebrities brought their own dogs with them, to escort them on the red carpet. Those who didn't used prop dogs, like Fluffy, who appeared in several pics with celebrities. House's Lisa Edelstein carried her small dog in a handbag and Emmy Rossum held her small Yorkshire Terrier in her hand. The list of big-name celebrities was long. But for one paparazzo, they weren't enough -- until Rene Russo showed up. "Who's that," I asked a photographer when a female actress I didn't recognize walked down the carpet. "Nobody," he said. "I'm waiting for somebody." Then Russo arrived and he jumped around yelling out her name. "Somebody" had arrived. At one point, a paparazza's iPhone rang. She answered it, then said quietly to her neighbor, "There's been a sighting," because a star they were tracking was sighted somewhere in Hollywood. They stayed put, though, and didn't leave the red carpet as more celebrities began showing up right. When comedic actor Arte Johnson arrived, a young reporter told someone standing next to her, "He's on General Hospital." "And Laugh-In," I told them, dating myself, as they gave me blank looks, obviously not registering the 1970s TV show. Inside, veteran actress Cloris Leachman talked to me about animals. "I just rescued a dog two weeks ago," she said. "He was wandering on my street. The first thing I did was give him a bath." He was reunited with his person the next day, she told me. On stage, country blues singer Emmylou Harris performed, making a poised, regal appearance. "Remember," she told the audience, "animals are people too." I was nearby when a cameraman with x17 Video asked former Full House child actress Jodi Sweetin a question. "What brings you out tonight?" "Anything for the animals -- it stirs my heart," Sweetin told x17 Video. "To come out for a great cause tonight is a lot of fun." Indeed. Photos by Andy Sheng

Girard Avenue

Sunday in La Jolla. Nice. It was the annual Holiday Open House at Warwick's books, coinciding with my signing for Pawprints of Katrina. Tons of people stopped by -- including friends and family. It was a great day. Also stopping to say hello (and buy books -- (thanks very much, all) were a couple from New Orleans and another from Pennsylvania who adopted a Chow-Golden Retriever mix from Camp Tylertown, Best Friends Animal Society's rescue center in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Singers from a local school were there too, as were carolers at a shop next door to Warwick's. Wonderful early holiday ambiance. It felt like a mini reunion, with Linda and Roger from high school, and my step-mother's nephew and niece, and friends Nancy and John. My twin sister and her husband and my son and grandkids were there too., which made it even more special. Old friends from my days living in South Mission Beach were there too. Then dinner in La Jolla. Great evening too. Just glad to be back in San Diego again for a visit. Photo of Cathy with Mia by Susan McBeth, event planner at Warwick's

History in the making...

After the polls closed on election day, I attended a campaign party at the Rio hotel-casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. I was there with my lifelong friend Vickie Pynchon and her husband Steve Goldberg, who joined her for the last few days of the campaign. Books will be written, analyses will be done, campaign strategies will be studied. On this night, November 4, 2008, the world witnessed a monumental, seminal moment in U.S. history. Vickie worked tirelessly for three nonstop weeks, knocking on doors, encouraging voters to go to the polls and help make a difference -- one vote at a time. Her efforts, along with thousands of others, clearly worked, as evidenced by overwhelming election results. Vickie was among 1,000 attorneys watching to make sure voting procedures were strictly followed and nothing was amiss. As I write this, Vickie and Steve are driving back to California -- leaving Las Vegas -- victorious. Also in town was my friend and fellow writer Susan Gembrowski with three other journalists who recently took buyouts from the San Diego Union-Tribune (I affectionately referred to them, while they were here, as Union-Trib refugees; the family owned paper from my hometown is being sold and each bailed ahead of the sale). Vickie, Steve and I watched President-elect Barack Obama's acceptance speech while standing in a bar at the Rio on our way from the buffet to the ballroom where Congresswoman Shelley Berkley was about to give her own acceptance speech. "We're missing it," Vickie said as we walked past the bar's widescreen TV. "Obama's speaking." We walked to the bar and stood mostly silent in front of the screen and listened to his acceptance. During his speech, Obama addressed people like Vickie when he described his grassroots campaign:

"It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy ... who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep. "It drew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on doors of perfect strangers, and from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized and proved that more than two centuries later a government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the Earth. "This is your victory."

It was, indeed, Vickie's victory. She owned it. I asked her why she did what she did -- left her life and her legal mediation practice temporarily to immerse herself -- on her own dime and without pay -- in the presidential run for office. It was the first time in 40 years she was moved to help with an election, she said. And this one was too important not to help. After Obama's speech, I told her, "He was talking to you." She smiled and quietly said, "He was." Vickie walked in October during record-breaking temperatures on the streets of Henderson, Nevada, getting out the vote. After the speech, she looked to be on the verge of tears. I've known her most of my life, since she was 5 and I was 8, and she is one of my dearest friends. I am so very proud of her. Way to go, Vickie. And way to go, America.

'Private and Pithy Lessons'

I was by accident at a book signing and lecture one evening this week. I was writing on my laptop at a Barnes & Nobel in Las Vegas when, next to the area I was sitting at, author Raymond Arroyo began speaking to a small group of people. He told them he'd done a book signing the day before in Thousand Oaks, California. "Three-hundred people were there," he told them. Amazing, considering about 25 showed up for this event. In a method that was reminiscent of stand-up comics -- but this one delivered by a religious writer who came across as a minister preaching at the pulpit -- Arroyo used a high woman's voice off and on throughout his talk, mimicking Mother Angelica, who is the subject of his new book by the same name (Mother Angelica's Private and Pithy Lessons), (Mother Angelica's Private and Pithy Lessons). The group seemed to enjoy it and laughed at the voice and his jokes. To his great credit, his book has reached the New York Times' bestseller list. He cut the evening short at just under an hour. Maybe he was disappointed at the turnout.

Shutters to the newsprint edition of the Monitor

Reading my morning fix of media news on mediabistro.com, I don't know why I was surprised with this week's announcement that the Christian Science Monitor, a magazine-like daily newspaper, was turning weekly to concentrate on producing Web news. Given the diminishing nature of the newspaper business, the Monitor is just one in a string of large dailies scaling back in one form or another. Over the years, I've freelanced my share of feature stories to the Monitor. The editors were on top of articles, always making suggestions to flesh out the stories even more. A few years ago, during an interview with Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman, he told me how much his elderly mother enjoyed the paper. "She's a subscriber," he said. She read the hard copy, of course, not the Web edition. Now, the Monitor, after 100 years of print journalism, will become the magazine it's felt like anyway for a long time -- in-depth coverage and think pieces with a wide appeal. They also like publishing international stories with a local flavor. I learned that in 1998 when I visited Rachael Levy -- a former reporter with me at the Las Vegas Sun -- who at the time was living in Amsterdam with her husband Marcel. Rachael had written a piece a couple months earlier about a Dutch version of Santa Claus that got a lot of notice. That was my real introduction to the Monitor, although I'd casually read it over the years. After I flew home from The Netherlands, I readied a pitch for an article for the Monitor. They took it, and I continued writing for them, off and on, for nearly a decade. I'll miss the daily Monitor. But I look forward to reading it online. Alas, the future of journalism is upon us.

Sex & Lies in a Lifetime movie

A Las Vegas movie that just aired on Lifetime is based -- loosely -- on a true story. Sex and Lies in Sin City is a made-for-TV film about the reckless life and death of Ted Binion, heir to the Binion Horseshoe Casino fortune. In September 1998, Binion was found dead in his Las Vegas estate by his live-in girlfriend Sandy Murphy. The media at the time made Sandy out to be a murderer. She along with her new boyfriend, Rick Tabish, were charged months later with killing Binion. The problem was, the coroner ruled the case a probable suicide and the police didn't cordone off the house and property to treat it like a crime scene. Binion, who'd been addicted to heroin since 1985, had enough drugs in his system to kill a horse. Then, six months after his death, in an unprecedented change of heart, the Clark County (Nevada) coroner ruled the death a homicide, despite a palpable lack of evidence against Murphy and Tabish. The first trial ended in murder convictions. But because the jury was not given certain instructions before deliberating -- vital information they needed -- the Nevada Supreme Court overturned the convictions and they were given a new trial. The second time around, with famous civil rights attorney (radical but respected) Tony Serra at the helm, along with co-counsel Michael Cristalli, the jury this time found them "not guilty." Justice prevailed, something the Lifetime movie barely touched on. Buffalo News Columnist Alan Pergament had this to say about the movie:

Speaking of embarrassments, the script chooses to use conversations between journalists to present several alternative and inconclusive theories about how Ted Binion died. The scenes are so stiffly played and presented -- it is reminiscent of a bad 'Murder, She Wrote' ending — that it almost is sinful. With all the talent wasted in 'Sin City,' this is one story that should have stayed in Vegas.

I covered both trials gavel to gavel, from the courtroom. The result is a book, Death in the Desert. The other result is a list of stories published in Las Vegas CityLife.

Writers' groups

I just discovered a wonderful writers' group in San Diego (to where I'll eventually be moving). It's San Diego Writers, Ink. My lifelong friend Vickie Pynchon, an attorney-mediator, columnist and blogger extraordinaire, is a member of a close-knit writers' group in Los Angeles. Vickie was a part of my first group, Sisters of the Pen, when we were kids. Who knew then how much writing we both would go on to do? (My sister Cordelia, also a former member and now an antiques dealer, is also blogging). I wasn't in another group again until a couple years after I broke into the news business. Fellow journalist and friend Susan Gembrowski, who's now an editor on the metro desk at the San Diego Union-Tribune, once hosted a few writers' meetings in Ocean Beach for local freelancers. The meetings eventually dwindled as we all moved on with our respective journalism careers. The first time I participated (about five years ago) in the Authors of the Flathead conference in Whitefish, Montana, I was envious. The group is chock full of talented, aspiring authors who encourage and constructively critique their respective works. After giving a workshop at their annual conference last month, in early October, I told myself I was going to find a group of my own, even if I had to be the one to organize it. I haven't found a group in Las Vegas, although freelance writer Terrisa Meeks runs one in Vegas where I was once a speaker. When I worked at the Las Vegas Sun in the mid 1990s, a handful of reporters started a writers group there. We'd meet once a month at a local Starbucks and go over each other's lengthier feature pieces we each were working on. With time, those meetings, too, slowly dwindled. Then this week, on the Internet, I stumbled across the San Diego group. Writing is a craft; the more you do it, the better you get. Thus, I'm hoping to not only learn from other writers, but to help others as well. The goal is getting words on the page and getting feedback along the way for works in progress. Fellow writers' feedback is invaluable and a gift when you can get it.

Tour heads to La Jolla and Santa Fe

The book tour for Pawprints of Katrina is heading for, first, on Nov. 9, La Jolla, California, to Warwick's books. Then, on Nov. 22, photographer Clay Myers, his wife Cathie, and I are going to Santa Fe for a signing with Ali MacGraw at Garcia Street Books. My Katrina dog Mia will be with me again. I'm excited about, once again, sharing with readers the rescue and reunion stories of Hurricane Katrina -- this on the heels of teaching a workshop in Whitefish, Montana, at the Authors of The Flathead and then participating in the National Book Festival in Washington, D.C., But I'm especially looking forward to visiting with Ali. She is a genuinely real person and very nice and giving of her time. While there, I'll be visiting a friend, artist and fellow writer, Paulette Frankl, who has a studio and home in Santa Fe. In the meantime, I'm pecking away at my computer on other writing projects (including articles for Best Friends magazine and a crime manuscript in my spare time!). Onward and upward.

Writers helping writers

The way you define yourself as a writer is that you write every time you have a free minute. If you didn't behave that way you would never do anything. --John Irving (1942 - ) Having just spent six days in Whitefish, Montana, at the Authors of the Flathead writers' conference, I'm inspired. It wasn't supposed to be that way; I intended to inspire others when I taught a three-day workshop, then shorter sessions over the weekend, to conference attendees. But they, too, said they were inspired -- and that's what it's all about, writers helping writers. I wish I knew then what I know now when I wrote my first nonfiction book, The Killing of Tupac Shakur, in 1996 and '97. The writing transition, from newspaper stories to a book, was a struggle. And this was before full-on Internet use; my research came from libraries, book stores, magazine racks, newspaper clips and interviews -- the old-fashioned way. It was a crash course on becoming an author. Also teaching a three-day'r was screenwriter Rick Reichman. Presenting with us that Saturday and Sunday were Pulitzer-prize-winning journalist, blogger and soon-to-be-author John Woestendiek (very witty guy; check out his blog), and literary agent Stephanne Dennis, romantic suspense author Laura Hayden, and fiction editor Denise Little. Thoroughly enjoyable week!