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2016-03-31T00:00:00.000Z

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Wrong Clay Moore?

Clay Moore

Artist

Shades of Night

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Shades of Night

Background Information

Employment History

General Manager, Software Division

Labelmaster Limited

General Manager

TEXT-Trieve, An American Labelmark Company

Education

Bachelor of Computer Science

Northwestern University

M.B.A.

Foster School of Business at the University of Washington

journalism degree

University of Georgia

Web References (27 Total References)


About Bitter TEA Studios

www.bitterteastudios.com [cached]

Clay Moore- Cover Artist, Writer, and Artist (written by Nikki)

Soon to be seen much more on this website, this artist will be creating the cover for Dead Ringer issue 1. He is also the artist for Shades of Night #1 put out by Jester Press.


About Bitter TEA Studios

bitterteastudios.com [cached]

Clay Moore- Cover Artist, Writer, and Artist (written by Nikki)

Soon to be seen much more on this website, this artist will be creating the cover for Dead Ringer issue 1. He is also the artist for Shades of Night #1 put out by Jester Press.


Chapter One: Dreams, Newspapers, and Newspapermen » by: Harold Michael Harvey » Paper Puzzle

paperpuzzle.net [cached]

Rubbing his eyes and clearing them of crusty mucus formed by drainage from his sinus cavities, Clay focuses toward the clock radio on the night stand. It's 5:30 a m. It seems mere minutes ago he woke from the first dream.

"The ragweed must be out in full force today," Clay said out loud, diverting his thoughts from the third dream of the night. He removes the yellowish substance from his eyelids. Middle Georgia is known for its ragweed. This allergen appears around Labor Day and intensifies Clay's miseries as late summer gives way to early autumn.
In twenty minutes the alarm will sound. Clay will hear the nondescript voice of the local weatherman. He hates awaking to the sound of the alarm. He has a penchant for stepping between time and space. A maneuver designed to change the outcome of an event, just like awakening from a nightmare before being struck by a sniper's bullet.
Clay doesn't enjoy being told what to do. He gets a kick out of seeing his feet on the floor before Jerry Powell, the aging weatherman, at radio station WAZM, delivers his weather announcement. It's time to get up. Clay does not need an alarm clock to tell him when it is time to get up. "The alarm is a crutch. I'm not a cripple," Clay was fond of saying.
Far from it, he is independent by nature. Clay relies upon his internal alarm clock. His body instinctively knows when it's time to get back to the business of another day, the business of publishing a newspaper. One of this job's most solemn requirements is protecting the public's right to know the state of affairs of local government.
As the managing editor, protecting the public interest falls directly upon Clay's shoulders, quite by accident. Solely by virtue of his job, Clay has become the protector of the constitution for the local folks. It is a role he takes seriously. The Macon Tribune & Journal (MTJ) is a newspaper he enjoys delivering to the public each morning.
Clay rolls over and yawns, delaying his departure from the bed another few minutes. "Gotta get moving," he mumbles.
...
After all, Rudy is the editor of the newspaper and Clay works under him as the paper's managing editor.
...
Clay likes a smooth shaven face. He doesn't shave everyday and will pass on this masculine ritual each chance he gets.
"A clean shaved face gives a man an air of importance," he thought.
Flipping the covers back, Clay begins a cursory search of his bed for any trace of newsprint. Finding none he breathes a sigh of relief.
"The first morning in months I've not found bits and pieces of faded newspaper in my bed."
He did not want to find them. They seemed to appear out of nowhere during the night. It was quite a surprise to Clay he didn't discover any newsprint in his bedding this morning. Finding newsprint in his bed occurs as frequently as the dream.
He was relieved, slightly; nevertheless relieved. Perhaps, as his fashion, he had stepped in between time beating the nocturnal visitor to the punch. A pleasing smile appears, a smile of self adoration, applauding his effort in awaking before another piece of newspaper is placed in his bed.
Clay competes with every facet of life. He developed this competitive nature from his days growing up in Winnie Moore's household. He likes to be ahead of the game.
Clay detested his mom nagging him about chores he was required to do around the house. He quickly learned what was expected of him. Clay completed each task before Winnie Moore could think to tell him to get it done.
...
Clay has a reputation.
...
Clay stayed away from even the appearance of impropriety on this point. He did not flirt with the other men's wives. He did not engage them long in one on one conversation. He dare not be caught dead alone in a room with someone's wife.
...
Clay would have thought the pieces of newspaper were figments of his imagination, or lingering fragments of a dream, except he neatly placed each scrap of paper on a corkboard. He arranged the pieces in random patterns, looking for a possible message. At the very least the pieces may come together like a puzzle.
The newspaper clippings are real. There is no way to deny their existence.
"If there is a message contained on the corkboard puzzle it is indiscernible," Clay surmises.
Clay determined the bits of newspaper clippings were not from news stories published in the MTJ, but were similar to an event he had covered as a cub reporter.
...
Clay vividly remembers Senator Thomas Eagleston and his dashed hopes of running for Vice President against Spiro T. Agnew, the worst Vice Presidential pick in history, up to that point.
...
How could Clay Moore explain seeking help from a shrink over the appearance of newspaper clippings in his bed?
"How silly," he thought. It's out of the question!
If such an act took down a powerful politician like Thomas Eagleston, surely Clay couldn't withstand any similar public scrutiny.
...
Clay did not have designs on leaving the newspaper business. But a young man has to keep his options open.
...
It is hard to say who is more pleased when Clay appears in the middle of the newsroom, Clay or the city editor. He is put to work running copy throughout the building and his meteoric ascent begins.
Clay's work at the MTJ impresses J. Edgar Scott. He likes Clay's preparedness and quietly monitors his progress at the paper. Clay was a keeper from day one. Everyone who came in contact with him knew it.
Next, Clay is assigned to cover the police beat. The police blotter is his first stop at the beginning of his shift. Reading the police blotter is on the job training for Clay, because they didn't teach a course in Athens on reading the police blotter. Besides no serious journalist wants to be caught dead reading the police blotter. It was honest work as honest work goes and Clay is glad as a bee in a pool of molasses to get it.
...
Clay designed a plan to add humor to the police blotter. He made fun of the antics the police were called upon to defuse. Rather than publish a serious story about the crime wave in middle Georgia, such as it is, Clay convinces his city editor to publish a humorous version of the police blotter.
...
Time and time again, Clay scooped the radio and television reporters in the area.
"Clay Moore, the man in the know, who knows news before it's news," his electronic media colleagues dead panned when Clay came around.
Once a week, Clay rode in a squad car as the police cruised the city looking to avert even the thought of crime. Weekly he featured a day in the life of a police officer. The rapport he built up with the police department came in handy. Particularly when the department was confronted with the biggest police story to hit the town in 50 years.
Although information would prove to be sketchy, Clay gets more information than most reporters covering this event and later reaped the professional rewards. Years later clippings from this news event are finding their way into Clay's bed.
In three short years he went from police blotter editor, assistant city editor, then city editor and finally he was promoted to managing editor. The promotions happened so fast that Clay barely had a chance to learn to respond to one title before he was on to the next. Never it seemed did he have time to learn all the intricacies associated with each level of newspaper work.
As managing editor he manages the news staff and news stories. Clay is a good manager. His style is quiet, but effective. He has that proverbial nose for news. Clay can sense the news worthiness of a story. He can energize his reporters to pull the story out of their subjects. A good editor has to have a knack for doing just that. Like a good athletic coach who inspires the best from his star player. The star player then propels the other players to new heights of performance.
There is much Clay likes about his job. The duty he likes least isn't found in his job description. He serves as the sounding board for Rudy's pontifical editorials.
...
In the beginning, Clay is too polite, too accommodating, too unsure of himself to beg out of the assignment.
...
It is almost as if whoever is pulling the strings to promote Clay must have the same design on the life of Rudy Watkins.
...
Clay took the opposite view, he didn't understand


Macon Native Authors Middle Georgia Mystery » by: Harold Michael Harvey » Paper Puzzle

paperpuzzle.net [cached]

Clay Moore is the white managing editor of the Macon Tribune and Journal.

...
Clay and Jimmy first meet while covering a sensational double murder that soon becomes a media circus; a circus that ends with the abrupt closure of the case.
...
Some years later, when old bits of newspaper stories relating to the murders begin mysteriously appearing in Clay's bed, the pair is forced to close ranks, overcoming social conditions of the times that originally kept them apart.


Chapter One: Dreams, Newspapers, and Newspapermen » by: Harold Michael Harvey » Paper Puzzle

paperpuzzle.net [cached]

Rubbing his eyes and clearing them of crusty mucus formed by drainage from his sinus cavities, Clay focuses toward the clock radio on the night stand. It's 5:30 a m. It seems mere minutes ago he woke from the first dream.

"The ragweed must be out in full force today," Clay said out loud, diverting his thoughts from the third dream of the night. He removes the yellowish substance from his eyelids. Middle Georgia is known for its ragweed. This allergen appears around Labor Day and intensifies Clay's miseries as late summer gives way to early autumn.
In twenty minutes the alarm will sound. Clay will hear the nondescript voice of the local weatherman. He hates awaking to the sound of the alarm. He has a penchant for stepping between time and space. A maneuver designed to change the outcome of an event, just like awakening from a nightmare before being struck by a sniper's bullet.
Clay doesn't enjoy being told what to do. He gets a kick out of seeing his feet on the floor before Jerry Powell, the aging weatherman, at radio station WAZM, delivers his weather announcement. It's time to get up. Clay does not need an alarm clock to tell him when it is time to get up. "The alarm is a crutch. I'm not a cripple," Clay was fond of saying.
Far from it, he is independent by nature. Clay relies upon his internal alarm clock. His body instinctively knows when it's time to get back to the business of another day, the business of publishing a newspaper. One of this job's most solemn requirements is protecting the public's right to know the state of affairs of local government.
As the managing editor, protecting the public interest falls directly upon Clay's shoulders, quite by accident. Solely by virtue of his job, Clay has become the protector of the constitution for the local folks. It is a role he takes seriously. The Macon Tribune & Journal (MTJ) is a newspaper he enjoys delivering to the public each morning.
Clay rolls over and yawns, delaying his departure from the bed another few minutes. "Gotta get moving," he mumbles.
...
After all, Rudy is the editor of the newspaper and Clay works under him as the paper's managing editor.
...
Clay likes a smooth shaven face. He doesn't shave everyday and will pass on this masculine ritual each chance he gets.
"A clean shaved face gives a man an air of importance," he thought.
Flipping the covers back, Clay begins a cursory search of his bed for any trace of newsprint. Finding none he breathes a sigh of relief.
"The first morning in months I've not found bits and pieces of faded newspaper in my bed."
He did not want to find them. They seemed to appear out of nowhere during the night. It was quite a surprise to Clay he didn't discover any newsprint in his bedding this morning. Finding newsprint in his bed occurs as frequently as the dream.
He was relieved, slightly; nevertheless relieved. Perhaps, as his fashion, he had stepped in between time beating the nocturnal visitor to the punch. A pleasing smile appears, a smile of self adoration, applauding his effort in awaking before another piece of newspaper is placed in his bed.
Clay competes with every facet of life. He developed this competitive nature from his days growing up in Winnie Moore's household. He likes to be ahead of the game.
Clay detested his mom nagging him about chores he was required to do around the house. He quickly learned what was expected of him. Clay completed each task before Winnie Moore could think to tell him to get it done.
...
Clay has a reputation.
...
Clay stayed away from even the appearance of impropriety on this point. He did not flirt with the other men's wives. He did not engage them long in one on one conversation. He dare not be caught dead alone in a room with someone's wife.
...
Clay would have thought the pieces of newspaper were figments of his imagination, or lingering fragments of a dream, except he neatly placed each scrap of paper on a corkboard. He arranged the pieces in random patterns, looking for a possible message. At the very least the pieces may come together like a puzzle.
The newspaper clippings are real. There is no way to deny their existence.
"If there is a message contained on the corkboard puzzle it is indiscernible," Clay surmises.
Clay determined the bits of newspaper clippings were not from news stories published in the MTJ, but were similar to an event he had covered as a cub reporter.
...
Clay vividly remembers Senator Thomas Eagleston and his dashed hopes of running for Vice President against Spiro T. Agnew, the worst Vice Presidential pick in history, up to that point.
...
How could Clay Moore explain seeking help from a shrink over the appearance of newspaper clippings in his bed?
"How silly," he thought. It's out of the question!
If such an act took down a powerful politician like Thomas Eagleston, surely Clay couldn't withstand any similar public scrutiny.
...
Clay did not have designs on leaving the newspaper business. But a young man has to keep his options open.
...
It is hard to say who is more pleased when Clay appears in the middle of the newsroom, Clay or the city editor. He is put to work running copy throughout the building and his meteoric ascent begins.
Clay's work at the MTJ impresses J. Edgar Scott. He likes Clay's preparedness and quietly monitors his progress at the paper. Clay was a keeper from day one. Everyone who came in contact with him knew it.
Next, Clay is assigned to cover the police beat. The police blotter is his first stop at the beginning of his shift. Reading the police blotter is on the job training for Clay, because they didn't teach a course in Athens on reading the police blotter. Besides no serious journalist wants to be caught dead reading the police blotter. It was honest work as honest work goes and Clay is glad as a bee in a pool of molasses to get it.
...
Clay designed a plan to add humor to the police blotter. He made fun of the antics the police were called upon to defuse. Rather than publish a serious story about the crime wave in middle Georgia, such as it is, Clay convinces his city editor to publish a humorous version of the police blotter.
...
Time and time again, Clay scooped the radio and television reporters in the area.
"Clay Moore, the man in the know, who knows news before it's news," his electronic media colleagues dead panned when Clay came around.
Once a week, Clay rode in a squad car as the police cruised the city looking to avert even the thought of crime. Weekly he featured a day in the life of a police officer. The rapport he built up with the police department came in handy. Particularly when the department was confronted with the biggest police story to hit the town in 50 years.
Although information would prove to be sketchy, Clay gets more information than most reporters covering this event and later reaped the professional rewards. Years later clippings from this news event are finding their way into Clay's bed.
In three short years he went from police blotter editor, assistant city editor, then city editor and finally he was promoted to managing editor. The promotions happened so fast that Clay barely had a chance to learn to respond to one title before he was on to the next. Never it seemed did he have time to learn all the intricacies associated with each level of newspaper work.
As managing editor he manages the news staff and news stories. Clay is a good manager. His style is quiet, but effective. He has that proverbial nose for news. Clay can sense the news worthiness of a story. He can energize his reporters to pull the story out of their subjects. A good editor has to have a knack for doing just that. Like a good athletic coach who inspires the best from his star player. The star player then propels the other players to new heights of performance.
There is much Clay likes about his job. The duty he likes least isn't found in his job description. He serves as the sounding board for Rudy's pontifical editorials.
...
In the beginning, Clay is too polite, too accommodating, too unsure of himself to beg out of the assignment.
...
It is almost as if whoever is pulling the strings to promote Clay must have the same design on the life of Rudy Watkins.
...
Clay took the opposite view, he didn't understand

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