Thursday, with Isiais still loping along out there in the Gulf (of MEXICO). Last time I looked, we here in New Orleans are out of the danger zone, or so it seems. I’ve not yet checked this morning, but before I went to bed it was heading in more of a between-Mobile-and-Pensacola landfall, continuing north. As long as I leave New Orleans by one-ish, I should be able to miss any outer bands spinning our way. It will be weird to be in a massive thunderstorm up there in a motel, but probably pretty cozy. OKay, I checked and yes, New Orleans is outside of the cone completely, with that landfall still even further east a bit this morning. The storm won’t get up to where we’re staying until Saturday night, which should make the Georgia-Alabama game messy, to say the least. Should at least be interesting…I also wonder if the storm has changed Palpatine the Incompetent’s mind about attending; every home team he sees play loses, so Bama fans best hope their foul god changes his mind about going.
I finally slept well last night and feel rested and good this morning, at least for the moment. I was very tired yesterday when I got off work, but did manage to run an errand and do some chores when I got home. Tonight I’ll need to start packing for tomorrow–I can’t believe it’s tomorrow already–so hopefully I’ll have a good night’s sleep tonight as well. I got some of the things done on my list that needed to be done before I leave, which was cool–hopefully today I’ll be able to do the same again–and leave town with a clear conscience. Shadowlands is queued up on my Spotify to listen to, and I am going to take some things with me to write/work on while I’m gone, so we can see how that all works out, too. I’m coming back next Friday, so I’ll be gone a week–and pretty much out of pocket for that time; not even sure that I’ll be able to keep this up while I am gone. Maybe I can also get some newsletters out; stranger things have happened.
It is so amazing what a good night’s sleep will do. I feel so good this morning! It may not last of course; sometimes it works out that way. Usually I am already tired going into the work day, but after having restless sleep most of the week, sleeping well made a huge difference. Good thing, because I need to be productive today, both at home and at work. I have to run errands after work tonight, and may have one to run on my way out of town tomorrow morning. I’ve got a list of things to get Paul to eat during my absence, and of course, I don’t want to leave behind a messy apartment to come home to, which always kind of sucks. I also want to do some more editing work before I leave, and work on a short story. We watched another episode of Neagley last night, which was amazing; maybe we can finish it tonight before I leave. We also still haven’t watched the finale of Lanterns yet, which is also amazing; we got so caught up in Neagley that we don’t really want to watch much of anything else until it’s done.
Sigh. I am going to take a lot of stuff with me on this trip, only to end up not doing any of it, aren’t I? But…better to have it with me in case I want to work on it. If I don’t take it, I’ll want to; if I do take it, I won’t. I am also probably packing too many books to take with me, too. I’m not sure what all we’re going to get up to while I’m in Kentucky, but generally I end up not having a lot of time until after eight-ish or so to do anything with; but I should be able to get some of my horror reading out of the way, at the least. I’ll probably finish Shadowlands in the car on the way up, and will probably pick out another horror to listen to on the way home; there’s a few more books in Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield series, which I absolutely love. And I still have to rewatch A Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time since I first saw it back in college.
And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, heat up my breakfast sandwich, and head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow before I hit the road.
The St. Roch chapel supposedly helps cure the disabled, who then leave their prosthetics behind….
Wednesday morning Pay the Bills Day has somehow moved back up onto my calendar and somehow is today again. Seriously? When did this happen? My word, the way time flies. Anyway, yesterday was a pretty good day at work, overall. I got a lot done–with more to do before I leave Friday–and felt pretty good about the day. I was tired after work and was able to go straight home (errands tonight), and was too tired to do much of anything except sit in my chair with Sparky and watch the season finale of Real Housewives: Ultimate Girls’ Trip, and then two more episodes of Neagley before I went up to bed. I woke up several times during the night, but I feel rested–at least for now, at any rate–and tonight I need to start getting ready for the drive on Friday, which I am looking forward to. Peter Straub’s Shadowlands will make an excellent travel companion, methinks.
Well the system that sprang up in the Bay of Campeche started moving north, but the cone of uncertainty this morning has shifted more east, so landfall is moving away from New Orleans, which is a good thing. There will be rain and high winds and flooding from Isaias (named as a storm overnight) and it’s not going to be ashore until around one a.m. in the morning Saturday. I’ll beat the storm driving north, but it will impact us in Alabama and the cone extends all the way to Kentucky, but hopefully all will well and past when we head north on Monday. I was also a little concerned about leaving Paul and Sparky with a storm coming, but with the eastward shift I feel a little more relief.
I’ve seen a lot of chatter on-line since Monday night about how the “Saints let the city down.” First of all, fuck you, and second of all, winning this game wasn’t nearly as important as it was in 2006. It was twenty years ago. The average age of Saints players is 26, so they would have been pretty damned young when that game was played and a year younger when Katrina hit. Unless they experienced Katrina themselves, they probably have very little memory of it, or how important the 2006 Dome-coming game was to everyone in New Orleans; a city still mostly in ruins, and how wonderful it felt to have the Saints playing at home, and then winning in an incredibly exciting game? I remember Paul and I watching at home, screaming and yelling and jumping up and down–I’ll never, ever, forget Steve Gleason’s blocked punt–and how it gave us something besides misery and rebuilding to think about, and how proud and happy everyone was before, during and after. I wondered about it before hand; would the expectations be too heavy on the players? And the day did not have the same feel to it as it did twenty years ago. I noticed it at the start of the game, and owrried that maybe it was drilled into their heads how much this mattered, and they freaked out because of that combined lack of understanding and the pressure to not let us down.
So, yes, it was disappointing–and it’s always disappointing to lose to the dirty birds–but it wasn’t the end of the world and guess what? We’re all still here, aren’t we?
As for the MAGA trash in Nebraska? The next time I see any fucking farmer whining about getting exactly what the fuck they voted for, I am going to post that clip in response with the caption “This isn’t as funny to me as you losing your generational farms, assholes.” I say let it go back to prairie; the buffalo can repopulate it. And don’t come for me about blue dots in a red state–I am a blue dot in a red state. And if that was a Louisiana crowd, we’d deserve every bit of hate we’d get as a state.
And for the record, we are watching in real time as billionaires develop Skynet, because they think somehow it won’t affect them…you know, like farmers in fucking Nebraska. Miss me forever with that bullshit “real America” shit. Maybe real losers’ America, but never real America.
For the record, you inbred imbeciles, San Diego is the primary base for the Pacific Fleet, and there’s also a Marine training camp there. WAY TO SUPPORT THE TROOPS, you piece of shit traitors. Now do the two ports.
It’s the fucking death cult Sarah Palin told us about in 2010, but she said it was the Affordable Care Act that would set up death panels, the lying skank. Why doesn’t she ever get asked about that? Her party is the anti-science, anti-abortion, anti-intelligence, anti-health insurance, anti-vax party, not the Democrats (the corporate ones can lick my asshole clean the next time I have Taco Bell)–I have spent my entire life listening to the stupidest lies told from the right; they love nothing more than to bear false witness against thine neighbors…while warning us that we’re going to hell. “See you there!” is the proper response to that garbage.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back bright and early tomorrow morning.
Sexy Robert Kelker-Kelly, who I crushed on during his days as Sam on Another World. You can see why. Sadly, he passed away this past weekend.
Tuesday morning and here I am, about to head into the spice mines again. Whew! Yesterday was a day. We were busier in the clinic than we have been (I saw ten people in just under four hours), and so was very drained and tired by the time my shift ended. I also ran errands on the way home, and finally dragged myself into the apartment tired, and just wanting to collapse into my chair, Sparky was a love bug, which was just what I needed, and I slept deeply and well, too. It was a very weird energy day; cloudy and gray and humid, we were supposed to get thunderstorms but it felt like one was ready to go at any moment, the air was so thick and heavy. We started watching the Saints game, but switched over to Neagley–the game wasn’t worth watching–and got two more episodes in. It is excellent, I have to say; I may even like it more than Reacher, and that’s saying a lot. Neagley is such a bad ass!
I have to be more focused today because I have a lot to get done before I leave on Friday. I didn’t make as much progress on moving forward as I would have liked, but any progress is progress. I also just looked at the calendar and realized there are two full weeks left in October when I get home from Kentucky next weekend, so that’s somewhat better. I’d also like to get a newsletter out before I head up on Friday afternoon, but we’ll see how that works out, won’t we? Behind on everything; losing the weekend to a lack of energy and brain fog from the vaccines didn’t help much; I also think part of the reason I’ve had stronger reactions to these shots these last few years has everything to do with me having an auto-immune disorder. Duh, right? I need to remember to start seeing my health through that lens, don’t you think? That would make the most sense, would it not?
The hilarity with which I am experiencing this “Medicaid ad” Sarah Slanders had run promoting her “you have to work to get Medicaid” rules and the blowback from her supporters for using a young white dude (pushing the whole “gamer in his mother’s basement” trope) instead of someone Black just has me in stitches. Your ad needed to be racist is a stance I didn’t have on my 2026 MAGA Filth Bingo card, but here we are. I suppose these things shouldn’t surprise me any longer, but…I am nothing if not inwardly optimistic, despite my bitter cynicism. Likewise, I am deeply distrustful of all this “blue wave” reporting. Polls aren’t votes, and it never ceases to amaze me how it never occurs to any news broadcaster that people have any number of reasons to answer questions honestly. Some people don’t want to admit to anyone who they’re voting for; etc. etc. etc….and whenever I get a call from a right wing pollster (or they send me a survey in the mail; the RNC has gotten some amazing survey responses from me, heh heh heh) I lie to them….unless I am in a mood to let them have it with both barrels. And now they are back to shoving Nate Silver, a noted piece of shit, as an “expert” down our throats again because they need and want big ratings from the midterms. (24/7 news is not, nor has it ever been, a boon to the American public.) They also prefer election narratives rather than actually reporting what is going on in the world and the country.
Dennis Hastert died recently, and the only sad thing is that it didn’t happen sooner, the pedophilic traitor. Hope they slathered your corpse with butter for basting your pasty ass in hell, Hastert! You are the reason people need to believe in hell, you know.
Maybe I can talk about the Saints game later this week.
And on that sad note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Taco Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.
The night the kudzu gets your fields, you sleep like the dead–“Kudzu” by James Dickey
Monday and back to the office with me. Friday I am driving up to Alabama to meet Dad to visit Mom for their birthdays, and then I’m following Dad up to Kentucky for a few days. I need the time away from the office, methinks, and it’ll be a nice break. I feel pretty good this morning, all rested and everything–I woke up several times during the night but was able to easily fall back asleep–so we will see how the day goes, won’t we? I was still a bit out of it yesterday, woozy from the shots I suppose, but managed to get some things done despite not having much energy. It was lovely coming downstairs to a clean kitchen this morning, and so hopefully when I get home tonight from work I can empty the dishwasher and reload it. I also didn’t have anything delivered over the weekend–I just couldn’t ask someone to deliver things when I didn’t want to go out in the pouring rain, especially since there was street flooding happening. We’re out of bread, too, so I definitely have to stop tonight. Sigh, it’s always something, isn’t it?
I did manage to get some things done yesterday despite being listless–but I still have a lot to do before I leave on Friday. I added things to the to-do list so I hopefully won’t forget to do anything. I actually felt kind of like I didn’t do much of anything, but…this morning thinking about it, I did do some things. I worked on the book yesterday, which was pleasant and surprisingly fun. Even with the anxiety medication, you see, I still get reluctant to reread work in progress because I’m afraid it will suck and I won’t be able to fix it, and it’s going to mean so much more work…but once I started, it went very well and I actually had fun with it, and made lots of notes and marked it up pretty well. I need to do Chapter 5, and then it will all be caught up and I can move through and fix it all; and then move on the next third of the book. It’s going to be short, and I am getting more and more excited about writing this book and telling this story.
We were in either a flash food warning or watch pretty much the whole day yesterday, and it rained all day, which gave it that lazy feeling I love so much. I did spend some time reading The Dead Zone, and the book is really exceptionally well done. King’s early work is all so amazing, really. He was on a major streak until The Tommyknockers was released, and I really hated that book. I’d have to go through the list of all his books, but I don’t think (off the top of my hand) that any of his post-Tommyknockers work was as good as his pre-Tommyknockers work. I could be wrong, probably am–I did love the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, and especially Holly Gibney.
I still felt low-energy yesterday. My legs and joints ached, and I had a bit of a fever making me uncomfortable. We watched the sixth episode of AHS:13, moved on to The Mandalorian and Grogu, which wasn’t amazing but was entertaining enough; I don’t know why people hated it so much unles people are just really into hating Star Wars nowadays…and then we started Neagley, which is excellent; as good, if not better, than Reacher. Huzzah!
I had to get the ISPN number for Hurricane Season Hustle for the Louisiana Book Festival bookseller, and as always, it’s just easier to get it from Amazon, and I noticed the book has twenty reviews (isn’t that the magic number?) and they average to 4 1/2 stars, which was pleasing to my ego; I don’t ever look because I’d rather not know and I don’t care, really; I don’t need outside validation anymore for my writing. I’m glad people enjoy my work, and i am grateful people do, believe me, but I love Bette Davis’ response: “Other people’s opinions of me are none of my business.” It’s much better that way, really; we can’t care what other people think or say about us when we aren’t around and I don’t want to know. Everyone talks about everyone, it’s human nature and some people enjoy being snarky and bitchy with their gossip; I know I certainly do (although I am usually just listening these days). So, no, it doesn’t bother me when people talk shit about me. And even if someone shares that shit with me, I don’t get upset or angry. How can I when I do the same? I don’t like every book I read or film/television program I watch. If people don’t like my books, I’m sorry you were disappointed, but…there’s nothing I can do about it now so…shrug?
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines on this gray gloomy possible drizzly morning in New Orleans. Have a great day, and I will see you again tomorrow morning. Ta!
Sunday morning and rather gray out there this morning as I swill coffee and battle Sparky for my desk chair (he’s sprawled across my desk playing with things on it, in full attack and knocking things off to the floor mode). My shoulder still aches and I do feel a bit inside-out this morning, but much better than I did yesterday. I slept deeply and well last night, too–a side effect of the shots, perhaps?
It started raining yesterday morning as I headed uptown to get my flu shot and my next COVID vaccination, and it was pouring by the time I got home. I felt a bit underwhelmed after I got inside–the way I’m usually mildly feverish and dramatically lethargic whenever I get the shots. My shoulder was also sore, and as it rained pretty much the entire (our flash flood warning flashed across the screen just before five), it felt chilly and damp inside, which also makes me just want to huddle up under a blanket. I figured since the day of the shots is always a lost day (anything I may get done is a bonus to be proud of), what better day to have such a day as a college football Saturday? That way I’m guaranteed easy entertainment all day with very little effort on my part. I didn’t have anything delivered because it seemed like a shitty thing to do–make people go out in this weather, but then again, they’re out there because they need to be, which makes it even shittier, and around and around the moral question goes–but it was coming down so consistently I didn’t want to walk to the gate to get anything, either. I also decided the trash could wait until I won’t get drenched…but the day wasn’t a total loss: there were good games on all day (more on that later), and I did get the kitchen under control again–the previous few days I’d let it slide a bit.
LSU made mincemeat out of McNeese State (63-14) last night, which was nice to watch leisurely. It was a crazy day in college football, with strange outcomes and so forth, and no way of knowing how good anyone is. Minnesota beat Michigan yesterday for the first time since I was a senior in high school (1977), which was wild as hell, and maybe the most interesting game of the morning. But seriously, what the hell, SEC? Missouri embarrasses Florida a week after losing to Mississippi State and Florida humiliated Ole Miss; Alabama blew out Mississippi State, and Kentucky–two weeks after embarrassing Texas A&M in College Station, looked terrible against the South Carolina team Missouri and Alabama have already destroyed at first, before bouncing back with an overtime one-point win.. How does any of this make sense? So far, it looks like (to me, anyway) that once again Georgia and Alabama are the best teams in the league; Texas is also undefeated but I don’t think they’ll beat either. Auburn lost to Tennessee, but it was a good game at least. Miami also blew out Clemson last night, so….maybe LSU is as good as Miami? Like I said, it’s too early to tell this season who is going to the playoffs and who is not. Northwestern also applied belt to ass to Penn State. Good thing they fired their coach midseason last year, right?
It looks like it’s going to be gloomy with off-and-on rain all day, with the flooding storms coming later this afternoon, so any deliveries have to be here by four, something I will look into once I post this and move over to the easy chair with the laptop. I did start writing some things yesterday, which was nice, considering how discombobulated and off I felt. I dug through my last three journals looking for the start of said short story yesterday, and I guess I didn’t write it down, but I remember it. It’s set in the late 1970s in a small Kansas college town, and starts with a girl witnessing an attack from her dorm window on a Saturday night–it’s for the no-corpse anthology due later this year–but I am not sure how I can end it just yet. My mind, despite my spaciness yesterday (and the tired legs this morning), was being fertile and creative somehow through all of that, and I do have another story I started percolating up there in my head. I have some things I need to do, and some emails to answer, and I really do need to start getting organized as the last quarter of the year is now here.
This whole Cornell thing has women up in arms, and rightly so. I personally think the MEN who did this–and it was clearly not the first nor the last time–should be chemically, if not physically, castrated1. There is no excuse and no way out of this, no way to justify any of it, and the victim-blaming is not flying this time. This societal reckoning is way overdue, and yes, I absolutely one hundred percent believe they did this, thought nothing of it because women are just living sex toys and sperm depositories to so many of them, and yes, it’s definitely a pack mentality.
And on that note, I am going to let this whiny cat have my desk chair and I am moving to my easy chair. May you have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.
An abandoned bridge in the woods in Alabama. Rather evocative, isn’t it?
Including all the professional adults who failed everyone here. ↩︎
Saturday in the Lost Apartment and all is well, or so it seems. Yesterday wasn’t the worst day, just kind of a quiet one where I felt off most of the day and couldn’t quite puzzle it out until later in the afternoon: I wasn’t in my normal routine. I had to go to the office for a meeting yesterday morning, ran an errand on the way home, but they had turned off the water to install a new shower in the carriage house, so I couldn’t do laundry or dishes or anything until it was turned back on. I definitely was out of sorts throughout the day. This morning I have to get get my shots (flu and COVID), and run another couple of errands while I am uptown. We didn’t have any gully-washer thunderstorms, either–when we did get rain, it seemed to be that kind that forms when the humidity gets to 100% and it solidifies as water/rain. I also have a lot of my plate this weekend. As I was lying in bed this morning waiting for Sparky’s “feed me” chirps, I started thinking about all the things I do need to get done and was like, when did I get so busy again? I kind of don’t like it! But naught to do but make a list and check things off as they do get done. We’re also supposed to get a lot of rain between now and Monday night, but it’s sunny right now–the forecast claims a thunderstorm will be here within the next hour, but that’s New Orleans for you; the sun can be shining and not a cloud in the sky one minute, and then twenty minutes later it’s pitch black outside and the streets are flooding.
It’s always an adventure.
We watched more AHS: 13 last night, which isn’t as off-the-rails as I had originally thought, but still not very tightly written, despite the brevity of the episodes. I also answered a question I’d been asking myself for a long time: why do I keep watching Ryan Murphy shows when I know they will inevitably be disappointing? As I watched Jessica Lange last night, I realized I watch for the cast. Murphy always has this interesting mix of really talented performers and not as talented but beautiful boys…and then you have someone like Evan Peters, insanely talented and incredibly beautiful. Murphy is also strong into casting nepo babies, but I remain committed to never watching anything with a Kardashian in it.
There are a lot of good football games on today, but LSU is playing McNeese State tonight in Baton Rouge. We’ll watch, even though better games are on because, well, LSU. I’ll miss the start of Alabama-Mississippi State–both are undefeated–but Alabama hasn’t lost to them since 2007 and maybe has lost to them maybe less than ten times historically? I remember it was Mississippi State that broke Alabama’s winning streak in 1980–they hadn’t lost since the early part of the 1978 season–so it is possible, but I’ll believe MSU can win when I see it happen. I almost always default Alabama to win, because they generally do. I do think this is a make-or-break year for their coach; if Alabama misses the play-offs for the third year in a row, he might be done for. Alabama hasn’t won the natty since 2020–which is a long time now for those spoiled fans, who got used to playing for it almost every year under Nick Saban.
The bar there is set even higher than the one in Baton Rouge.
I did spend some more time with The Dead Zone yesterday, which is a marvelously constructed novel, and reading again after so many years I am appreciating the book so much more than all the previous times I read it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed every page on every read; but this time, I am marveling at the craftmanship and the incredible structuring of it. It really is a masterwork (I had always liked The Shining but never loved it. When I revisited that one again sometime in the last years, I appreciated it more (I don’t really like toddlers-in-danger stories; hence why I never connected with either Pet Sematary or Cujo) than I ever had before. If The Stand wasn’t so damned long, I would love to revisit it as well. That, for the record, has always been my favorite King novel.
I must admit, when I learned Vanity Fair was doing a big profile on Erica Kirk I literally rolled my eyes and thought, not this Nazi bitch again and thought, this is why I didn’t renew my subscription (it wasn’t; I’d just forgotten and hadn’t gotten around to it yet) and didn’t. Silly me, Vanity Fair–I forgot you have game, and what you did to the people around Trump in that “emperor has no clothes” piece and photoshoot you did with them, showing that they are actually more awful and stupid than previously believed. I should have known you’d lure the fame-hungry grifter in with the promise of a profile and photoshoot, setting her up to look as bad as humanly possible. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I will be renewing today. You deserve my money for how you cover the narcissistic grifters to whom any attention is better than no attention. Thank you for your service to the Republic.
I also love that Governor Hochul has appointed bad-ass Leticia James to oversee the new investigation into the Cornell gang-rape situation. If the victim is going to actually get any justice, Leticia James will get it for her. I feel a lot better about this case now, and I also think it’s time to do away with campus police. They can be security, but the campus needs to be under the local police jurisdiction at the very least, if not the state’s. The campus police don’t work for the good of the students they work to protect the university. So parents, don’t think campus police are there to protect your children. They are not, just like the police only protect property, not people (and yes, those priorities are askew).
And on that note, I am going to post this and then do some chores around here before it’s time to head uptown for my shots. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.
Friday morning and in a bit I am off to the office for a meeting before I run errands on my way home. It has been a pretty decent week, in all honesty. I didn’t sleep as well as I would have preferred, but that happens, and I think I was drinking coffee after twelve noon the last couple of days, which could be the cause. Caffeine and I walk a very thin line together; too much makes me sick, and if I drink any after noon I won’t sleep as well. So it goes in the life of a senior citizen. But I did sleep through the night, and feel pretty rested and good this morning (I think my body doesn’t know I am going to the office in a moment, or maybe the extra hour this morning made a huge difference).
It did rain a bit yesterday (and more so while I slept, given how wet everything outside appears to be), and now that I work in a testing room with a window (it faces Elysian Fields1) the temptation to just sit there and watch the rain is very powerful. I am a sucker for rain, always have been, which is yet another reason I love living in New Orleans. I lived in California for eight years and I can’t even remember it raining there, which was awful. The rains of Houston, where I moved next, were awesome though. Unfortunately, that meant the humidity returned after it stopped and the sun came back out. Wednesday it was in the 80s most of the day, but when I left the office it was pleasant out–meaning no humidity–and it wasn’t hot inside the car, either. I managed to get home and into the house without breaking a sweat, and it’s been months since that last happened.
Well, the always problematic Joyce Carol Oates showed her entire flat, unwashed ass by claiming the only genre where AI would be useful would be romance–which she claimed was formulaic and thus of no value, apparently–which is such a disgusting thing for any woman to say, especially one as famous and respected and praised as Joyce Carol Oates. Way to shit on an entire genre, which is predominantly for women and dominated by women. Surely, Ms. Oates doesn’t mean to imply that she hasn’t written anything formulaic, does she? Because I cannot believe every single thing that has come out of her typewriter has been so completely original and never done or tried before and had has advanced modern literature by breaking new and important literary territory? Or is she just another one of those women who dislike other women? I know some of her buddies are misogynist pigs, and despite all evidence that her buddies are garbage, she proudly stands by them. Probably thinks she’s also a feminist while playing pick-me to be one of the guys. I don’t write romance, but I know a snobby bitch when I see one. I don’t need to boycott her because seeing her clearly as a tool of the patriarchy, I stopped reading her.
And I don’t kiss anyone’s ass, no matter how “powerful” they appear to be. It’s easy to shit on a genre when you’ve never written in it–and frankly, because a HEA is de rigeur, romance writers also excel at character, dialogue and place; no one’s going to read a romance that doesn’t affect their emotions because then it wouldn’t be a romance. I would like to challenge every elitist writer who thinks romance is a joke genre to write one. Let’s see exactly how easy it is, shall we? I remember a few years ago when that South American literary writer wrote a thriller “as a joke” but then published it; shitting all over our genre because, you know, she’s so above it. Turned out mystery fans weren’t going to support a snotty, arrogant elitist bitch anymore than a romance fan would.
I may not write romance, and I don’t read a lot of it. But I have edited a lot of romance novels, I appreciate the skills and talents of romance authors, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for them. I may write one someday, not to see if I can make “easy money” (there’s no such thing in this business), but to see if I can actually do it well. I like challenging myself when I write, and I think writing a romance would be a great challenge for me. Someday. I need to finish the current book and write another Scotty before I start the horror novel I’m itching to start writing.
You come for the romance genre through me, bitch.
I didn’t do much around here last night when I got home because I was tired. I came straight home and crashed out immediately into my chair with Sparky in my lap, and I just kind of zoned out with the news–both national and football. Today is my last full day in the office for the week–we have an in-person meeting tomorrow morning–but the good news is the house isn’t in bad shape, and so won’t take me long this weekend to set to rights. I am dragging a bit this morning, which is to be expected on a Thursday morning, right? I slept pretty well the last two nights and have no trouble getting up in the mornings, but I remain a bit tired throughout the day, and maybe not as alert as I would like by the time I get home every night? Thursday nights usually are nights when I don’t do much of anything; but I do have to get up early tomorrow for the meeting. I need to get back to work on writing fiction–the book and some other short stories, but it’s the newsletter essays I’ve been enjoying writing the most lately, which is odd–but I also think writing those is helping me improve on my skills.
Yesterday was also October 1st and the official start of Halloween Horror Month, when most of my reading and streaming will (and should be) horror. I definitely want to watch Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street again, and maybe pick up on some new ones. I really wish Friday the 13th-the Series was available to stream somewhere, because I’d love to watch it all again; I don’t think I ever saw the entire show. But the antique store of cursed objects–and having to track the objects down before they start killing people–was a most excellent concept, and while the show was done on the cheap–it was syndicated back before money was put into syndicated shows–the few episodes I’ve been able to track down on Youtube are a bit hokey, but there’s still a lot of fun to watch. I love dedicating the entire month to horror; even my juvenile rereads this month will have to do with hauntings, methinks. I think AHS:13 airs its entire season by the end of October, which is nice. It’s also weird to think next Friday I’ll be heading up to Alabama for Mom and Dad’s birthdays, and then up to Kentucky for the rest of that following week. This month is going to fly by, isn’t it? And then it’s November and then Christmas and then Mardi Gras and it’s March before I know it.
And ugh, I agreed to moderate a panel at the Louisiana Book Festival, so I have to do two things up there this year. Given the cost of gas, more bang for my buck is probably a good thing. I’ll probably end up going up on Friday and spending the night; there’s an opening party that night I usually skip, but I’d rather do that then get up early Saturday and drive up there…which means booking a room. Add that to my lengthy to-do list.
The local New Orleans gay community is up in arms over something I cannot really speak to without making the following disclaimer: I do not speak for my day job, I am not authorized to speak on behalf of my day job, and I am speaking here solely as myself–Greg Herren, the local gay author who has lived here for over thirty years, moving here before there was life-saving treatment for HIV. If you want to see what’s going on, feel free to go on Facebook and look at either the Queer New Orleans page or certain Quarter bars. I can’t speak on the situation and again do not speak for the agency where I work, but I would like to thank the local gay community for your support and the pushback against the businesses attacking us. I forget sometimes how important we are to the community here, how much good we’ve done (and continue to do), and how much the community actually appreciates us. I thank you, and the supportive commentary I’ve seen was touching–and you know how cold and dead inside I am.
And you know, even if I didn’t work where I do, I would also be grateful to my agency. As a sixty-five year old gay man who lived through the worst of the plague days, I have nothing but respect and appreciation for any organization that does HIV work. Anyone who doesn’t? Absolute trash–and if they ever seroconverted, you can bet your ass they’d be beating down our doors2 for our help.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning while I wait for the thunderstorms.
Thursday and it’s not my last day in the office for the week; I have a department meeting tomorrow that I need to come in for. I may stay for a few hours after and do some work here, but on the other hand I may just get back in the car and head home. I guess we’ll see how I feel, but it would be incredibly convenient to get all my errands out of the way. We’re supposed to start getting rain from Polo tomorrow, and continue with flooding rains all weekend…so I am not going to want to leave the house that often. I do have to go get my vaccines Saturday morning–I figured if they make me woozy again like they always do, it’s better to be home. LSU’s game is against McNeese State Saturday night–their fifth night game in a row–and I think a lot of the other games this season will be at night again. All the media alarm bells after the Mississippi loss subsided with the trouncing of Texas A&M last week, but…the remaining schedule remains brutal.
Well, Sparky closed my browser for me (thanks, babe!) and I lost three paragraphs of this entry which I will now try to reconstruct. Sigh.
I was tired when I got home from work yesterday, Sparky was needy, and I just needed to sit for a minute last night before doing anything, but I got sucked into the news–both national and football–and several wormholes (is it just me, but are Youtube videos becoming more and more AI-generated?) opened up for me before I switched over to this HBO documentary series about Warner Brothers–and old Hollywood stuff always works as research for the book. I went to bed shortly after that, and didn’t do a damned bit of chores at all. The apartment is still pretty well kept-up, but there’s some cosmetic cleaning that needs doing, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and reloaded again, and there’s another load of laundry that needs doing, too. I’ll have to take care of some of that tonight so this weekend I can primarily focus on writing and deeper cleaning issues (baseboards, etc.). The house is also currently being painted, so much as I would like to go outside in this cooler clime to clean the windows…probably not going to happen until the house is finished being painted. (I have to negotiate an obstacle course most days when I get home to get into the house.)
Today is also the first day of Halloween Horror Month, in which I try to make sure all my reading and streaming needs are horror-related. I know I am going to revisit Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street–always excellent choices–and it’s always fun to dip into horror, which I need to read more of. I am going to listen to Shadowland by Peter Straub on my trip next Friday to Alabama/Kentucky–can you believe it’s next week already? I can’t–and will take some other horror along to read while I am up there. I am going to start reading The House That Horror Built, and I think on the way home i may listen to a Grady Hendrix novel.
I also need to get back to writing, either on short stories or on the book. I’ve been focusing a lot on writing nonfiction–the newsletters–and while I have really been enjoying doing that (and my writing is improving, which is always a delightful thing), I need to get back on the fiction horse. I’ve kind of been letting my creativity recharge, after finishing that story last weekend, but I definitely need to be climbing back into the saddle again. Maybe tomorrow, during the rains. We’re supposed to get up to five inches over the next few days–but we shouldn’t have any flooding concerns if the rain is spread out. Five inches in two hours or less and the city is underwater.
And on that note, methinks I shall head into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely Friday Eve, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before my meeting. See you then!
My God, Alan Ritchson is just ridiculously handsome.
It’s very difficult to market books about social issues. How do you promote something like that without looking like you’re trying to cash in on a tragedy, or some horrific real world incident? I don’t urge people to read Murder in the Rue Chartres every time a hurricane threatens Louisiana/New Orleans, nor do I ever try to piggyback promotion of the book which talks about the Upstairs Fire with the tragedy’s anniversary, or any time the fire comes up on social media. I don’t like the idea of capitalizing on tragedy for capitalism. It makes me uncomfortable, and while I don’t judge people for doing that, it doesn’t sit right with me.
Yesterday, I wrote and sent out a newsletter inspired by the breaking news about the mishandled Cornell gang-rape situation. Rape is something I have always felt strongly about–against, for the record–because it’s such a bodily violation. Having something shoved inside you without your consent–it sends a shudder through my body and turns my stomach whenever I think about it. So, I talked about the book I wrote about a similar situation happening in a fictional Midwestern town with a strong high school sports culture. My intent wasn’t to promote the book, which would be a shitty thing to do; the intent was to call more attention to the fact this isn’t something new; the book is OLD. I started writing it in 2015, after Steubenville and Marysville. Almost immediately after I hit post and share, I saw someone on social media bitching about people using this Cornell gang-rape (call it by its real name) to promote their “shitty book1s.” I knew that was a risk I was running by talking about my book in the context of why I wrote it (I had started writing the essay originally after the on-line Rape Academy expose by CNN), but after I blocked her, I shrugged. If she wants to assign that kind of blame to an essay I wrote about rape culture through the context of a novel I wrote about it and why, so be it. Go ahead and put me on your “no-read” list; I’ll put you on my “blocked as a bitch” list. See how that works?
Congratulations on your purity, ma’am.
Although I guess hit dogs do holler. The reason I reacted so strongly was because I was concerned people would think that was what I was doing, and anxiety medication aside, I somehow still feel a need to justify that newsletter. The woman probably wasn’t even talking about me–she just popped up, unasked for, on one of my feeds. It’s a free country and she’s welcome to express herself however she wants to–but I am not required to see, read or interact with her on any level.
And frankly, if people are looking for more information on how bad the sexual assault horrors are–well, authors might be thinking hey, you may want to read this for my research. I researched the fuck out of this over the many years I spent working on my book, but I would also direct people to Jon Krakauer’s Missoula, which examines the relationship between college athletics and sweeping rapes under the rug to protect players. LSU has had these problems over the years–it’s part of the package of why Les Miles was fired as football coach (although the cover-ups were okay as long as the team was winning at the national level), and there’s a rapist on campus today who is on the football team.
But all of this did make me think more about the marketing aspect of publishing, and how I’ve never been good at doing it.
I generally don’t talk about my books with an air to selling them to people; I don’t, as I made clear in my essay, selling books is generally the last thing I think about when it comes to my books. (Nothing bugs me more than when someone says “sell me your book!”) I don’t know how to talk about them in ways that will sell them; a manager I had in my twenties told me “you could sell ice to Eskimoes2” but that was just me being me, you know? I know I’m supposed to use every tool at my disposal to market myself and my books but that isn’t something I’ve ever been comfortable doing; to me, it’s cringe. I always think nobody cares and so I talk about my work and my writing in ways that I find interesting. I can’t write something if I’m not interested in it, and that usually isn’t an issue; I can almost always find something interesting (to me, at any rate) in most subjects…but I never, ever set out to write a blog or a newsletter with the thought this will sell me some books.
My mind isn’t wired that way. I guess other people’s must be? But I also don’t see the issue with writing about a societal problem through the lens of having researched the topic and being moved to write a novel to share these stories with people. I didn’t say buy this book, but rather I wrote this book and this is why I did, and the lifelong education on the subject that led me to write it, to try to make sense of something that is completely alien to me.3
I also wasn’t raised to “sing out Louise”4. Being raised to be modest and not accept compliments hasn’t been easy for me to process out of my brain/psyche, but I am getting better about it. But if you always downplay your achievements and successes, why would anyone else play them up? I also had that terrible anxiety-driven “pick me” bullshit going on, too; there’s nothing wrong with tooting your own horn so long as you don’t make it your entire personality, as so many seem to do. There’s a happy medium in there where I can live and exist, and I hope that someday I’ll be able to find that place where I can feel comfortable. One can hope, at any rate, right?
There was definitely a clown show on Capital Hill yesterday, and good ole Cornpone Kennedy had his stupid ass in it up to his neck. MAGA is such a joke; they are so not serious, but they are just as dangerous as a manic three year old on a massive sugar high who got into his parents’ gun cabinet. Thank God they are all so stupid and inept and incompetent; it’s like we got the Hogan’s Heroes brand of fascists here. Imagine if they were as smart as they are evil.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader and I will check back with you tomorrow.
This photo, from the aftermath of the California fires, never ceases to amaze me.
Anyone dismissing any group of books as “shitty” is always going to get my ire up. ↩︎
Is that offensive now? If so, my apologies, but it’s a direct quote. ↩︎
It did occur to me while I was writing the essay that the reason women have always felt comfortable around me is they somehow sense I’m not interested. ↩︎
A friend of mine says this Gypsy quote all the time, and there is something to it. If you don’t talk well about yourself, who will? ↩︎
Tuesday morning and we survived Monday, did we not? It wasn’t a terrible day. WE were busier than usual in the clinic, so the day passed relatively quickly. I also made an appointment to get my flu and COVID shots for the year for this Saturday; if I am going to react to them, what better way to do so then in my easy chair while watching college football and dipping some more into The Dead Zone? That will also get me out of the house on Saturday, so I may as well run other errands while I am out. I have an in-person meeting Friday, so I am probably going to do all my hours in the office–at least, that’s what I am thinking today; that may change between now and then. Paul went to the gym last night shortly after I got home, so when he got home from that we queued up this week’s Lanterns, which was wild; I really do enjoy this show and not just because Aaron Pierre and Kyle Chandler are very good looking men. It doesn’t hurt, though; I’m not saying that! But it’s very well written, acted, and produced; perhaps the best DC television series I’ve ever seen (I may not be remembering some others, but I don’t think so). I slept very well last night and feel a bit Tuesday-ish this morning, but not terribly bad.
I checked the call for submissions for the story I finished over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised to see the deadline isn’t Thursday, but rather the 31st. That relieves some of the pressure to get it finished and polished, but doesn’t mean I should wait until the last minute, either. I know there are tense and point of view issues with it, so what I am thinking is I should let it sit until this weekend–something else I can do in case I have a reaction to the shots is edit the hard copy with post-it notes and a yellow highlighter. (Yes, I am old school.) I am also glad I checked because the word limit is four thousand, not five. The story checks in now at 4126 words, so it needs tightening for sure. I also got caught up on emails yesterday, which was a very lovely thing. I don’t know why I am so reluctant to deal with emails these days, but I imagine it has everything to do with the hundreds of emails I used to get weekly: who knew volunteer work came with PTSD? I sure didn’t.
I know now. Lesson learned. I eventually always figure it out; it may take me years, but I do.
Today is a slow one in the clinic, so I should be able to get caught up on administrative details. I can also tell I’m feeling better, physically and mentally, because I am keeping up with my paperwork and everything. I finally have a system, and it works beautifully; much better than the disorganized and inefficient way I was doing it–and it was, indeed, a rut I felt into while I wasn’t in top form and just surviving every day (I don’t longingly dream of retirement anymore, either), which was a deeply unpleasant way to live.
I also scheduled a newsletter for this morning; you can click here to read it. I have been working on this one for a very long time; it’s about the incidents that led to me writing #shedeservedit, and what I was trying to do with the book. The Cornell situation pushed me back to the essay and I finished it; I held off on sending it out because I didn’t want anyone to think I was trying to promote the book off the back of that poor victim, but talking about the book and why I wrote it isn’t promoting it; it’s about exploring a major societal issue we don’t seem terribly interested in solving: men’s entitled expectations towards women’s bodies: an unconscious woman isn’t an invitation for rape.
And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.
