Rothenberg - Chill: A Confession

The bizarre tale of a penny stock fraud wrapped in adysfunctional relationship sprinkled with addiction

Otherwise known as

What on earth was she thinking?

A Novel

(Based on a True Story)

By Danielle Rothenberg

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Published by Danielle Rothenberg atSmashwords

Copyright 2015 by Danielle Rothenberg

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook.You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may bereproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes,provided the book remains in its complete original form. Thank youfor your support.

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CHILL is a novel based on true events. Its thestory of a series of very poor decisions. A cautionary tale.

But even now, Im struggling with the karmicconsequences of putting my story out into the world and whetherdoing so will cause more harm than good.

The events on which this novel is basedhappened over 30 years ago. But they changed the course of my life thankfully. There are some who think I didnt reap enoughpunishment for the harm that I caused, but I beg to differ.

I have carried this story around with me allthese years. Originally, it was written around 1987 as a stream offacts for a psychiatrist who requested it after my attorney decidedit was a good idea to have someone evaluate my state of mind, i.e.,whether I intended to commit a crime. But more about thislater.

The psychiatrist was stunned at the 80 pagesI presented him, when hed only asked for a summary, but he readit. Wow, he said, in a rare moment of unprofessional, butego-flattering, reaction. You should write a book about this. SoI did.

Adventures in (Not) Publishing

Fear made me fictionalize the story, changingeveryones name to protect well me. As time went on, I tried toget the book published.

Had an agent who insisted Barbara Streisandwould be interested in a movie. But after a year of nothinghappening, I realized that my ability to be deluded had not yetdiminished.

Over the years, I made feeble attempts to dosomething with this story that I nurtured and fed with edit afteredit (nine complete revisions so far, and currently containing anIntroduction, a Prologue, 17 chapters, and an Epilogue). My lifeimproved as I made better decisions and began to recover fromcompulsive overeating and drinking (alcohol was nothing but refinedflour and sugar, both of which are highly dangerous and addictivedrugs for me). But I continued to carry this story in my soul,reaping unintended consequences long after the fact. It was likesome sticky stuff that I just couldnt wash off myself.

Once, a lawyer wanted to sell the movierights and thought she could get me $10,000, but not even a storyby credit. I passed on that, but two years later, when I reallyneeded the money, I swallowed my pride and approached her again.She wasnt interested.

Years later, a friend with industry contactsgot the story in front of a producer she knew who worked on truecrime. He handed it off to his reader, who said the writing wasjust abominable. And, other than one or two query letters to TVshows like American Greed, that was the last time I dipped my toeinto the shark-infested waters of the Industry.

In retrospect, this was for the best as thereis a law preventing people from profiting off their crimestheSon of Sam law.

Why Now?

I turned 60 this year. Im now disabled, withnothing life-threatening, but enough to make my old life impossibleto live. The desire to share my story, as a cautionary tale, andprobably to satisfy my egos urge to have others read what Ivewritten about what happened, has washed over me like a tsunami overthe past few months.

The publishing world no longer controlswriters. The TV and movie industry longer controls filmmakers. Now,no one has to take no for an answer. I am free to publish my storyhowever and wherever I want, and no one can stop me exceptmyself.

I kept fighting this mounting desire, tellingmyself that its just garbage and no one will be interested inreading my story. My husband says to forget about it because itsold news, that other scams have eclipsed this series of unfortunateevents that occurred in my life. But I just dont know if thatstrue.

The Facts are Not the Story

You see, its one thing to read the facts ofa case. Quite another to know the story behind it. And the storybehind the penny stock fraud, and my relationship with a con artistwho one reporter said could sell voodoo dolls to nuns, is a talethat others who have read the book have found compelling.

In addition, women who have read themanuscript, especially those who have made unfortunate decisionsaround choosing and staying with inappropriate partners, andallowing themselves to be manipulated into going against their ownbest interests, enjoyed the story because they recognizedthemselves in Linda Golden, the main character, and found solace inknowing they werent alone. So it is my hope that women, and men,who relate to those types of self-destructive behaviors may readthis story and find comfort in that recognition.

But mostly, I hope that by finally justputting my story out there, the last vestiges of its grip willleave me.

Do No Harm

I try hard now to consider the consequencesof my actions. So as I thought about how to share my story, itbecame clear that it had to be freely available to read, bothbecause of that law and because Im just not looking to profitfinancially off the harm I helped cause.

But then, there is also the issue of causingharm to those in the story itself. While Im using a pseudonym forthis endeavor, it wouldnt be hard to figure out, with a littleresearch, who the actual players were.

And I fear that my impressions are drippingwith a sardonic mean streak, which is not the way I communicatetoday. It is not my intention to hurt anyone, but to share, from mypoint of view, an experience that I went through that wascompletely out of character for the person I thought myself to be.And there is no question that I am hardest on myself.

So I apologize in advance if anyone happenson this story who believes I am writing about him or her and takesoffense. I insist this is a novel, because the filter I used torefine the story over many years has surely rubbed off some of thehard edges of truth.

And Finally, about Sex

OK, so I had a hard time breaking through theself-imposed morality barrier and writing the sex scenes, madeworse because Im using a satiric voice. But I did it. As a writingexercise, it was truly the most fun part of the book other thanthe description of Mona, a character in Chapter Fourteen.

So, without Further Adieu

I present the unedited version of Chill: AConfession

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This story takes place in the 1980s, a time beforecell phones proliferated; before the Internet gripped the world;before Wall Street went under yet again; before Carrie Bradshaw wasan inkling in a writers eye or Lena Dunham could walk or talk.Nevertheless, there have always been gullible women, men who takeadvantage of them, and a world too easily conned out of moneybecause of greed.

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Judge Robert C. Maynard wason a mission. "Ms. Golden, I am sickened by the loathsome nature ofyour actions..." Oh God, I thought, I'm going to jail. I felt anocean of perspiration soak right through my new white, silk blouse.The fires of Hell were licking at my heels. I was sweltering.

But there was a lot more at stake thanembarrassing wet spots, so I turned my attention back to the judgethey called "Dudley Do-right."

"Though I've been told there are extenuatingcircumstances surrounding your actions, I cannot treat thissituation lightly.