Category: books i’ve read

Rock a Little

Monday morning and it’s back to the spice mines with me this morning. There are worse things I could do, one supposes. The cold has arrived; it’s only 29 outside and I can absolutely tell as I swill coffee and shiver a bit here at my home workspace. Sparky has been glued to me since I got up–although why he isn’t cuddled up with Paul in the bed is indeed a mystery to me; that’s where I’d be if the alarm hadn’t gone off and I could have slept another few hours, comfy and cozy and warm under my pile of blankets. But I am awake, it’s not terribly cold inside (it could be worse) and we didn’t lose power, which is a big plus. That was my primary concern–the loss of power and no heat, like that year we didn’t have heat and it froze on Mardi Gras day. Shiver. That was beyond miserable, and not an experience I would like to relive at any point in my life.

This is my first full week of work this year so far–I think; there may have been one earlier that I’ve forgotten about, but it’s been a hot minute since I’ve had to go into the office four days in a row. I don’t think I have to work in the clinic this morning, but have been wrong before. Either way, it’ll be fine. I do hope Dad and the rest of my family in Kentucky have power and are safe and warm and staying inside. They are–I just checked the power outage map up there. Whew. It’s really not feeling too terribly cold this morning; despite the low temperature, but my hips, ankles and Achilles tendons are aching this morning. The most fun thing about being old when it gets cold is these aches I never used to have.

I found myself in a bit of malaise yesterday; more of an emotional exhaustion than anything else. The state of the country and the world just got to be a bit overwhelming for me this weekend–the existential horror of everything was a bit too much and it kind of got to me. What can I say? How are you coping with the daily burning of the Constitution by the fascist administration? I couldn’t focus to write–I did take some notes, but when thinking about anything that I am currently writing, it just seemed kind of pointless and frivolous. I know we need art and literature to help people get through these horrifying times, and feeling and expressing and creating joy in dark times can be a beacon of hope for people trying to cope…but sometimes, I just need to accept that it’s overwhelming and sometimes it causes paralysis. I didn’t do much of anything yesterday other than do some dishes and just mindlessly watch political commentary or old sports highlights or history videos while paging through a non-fiction history (The Fall of the Dynasties, to be exact). I did watch the I Want My MTV documentary–the cultural impact of MTV in the 1980s cannot ever be overestimated–which was kind of fun and had me remembering the early days of it and how we were all addicted to it back then.

One of the few bright spots of this year so far has been the enormous reception to Heated Rivalry, and how its two young stars–Connor Storie and Hudson Williams–have become global superstars in a matter of weeks. I was happy to see they got to carry the Olympic torch in Italy, which was incredibly cool for them. I wish them nothing but the best, and I have to say that I am absolutely delighted for them both, for the show, and the representation. Can we also drop the “but it was written by a woman!” nonsense? Regardless of the politics of who writes who and what is or isn’t cultural appropriation and so forth–which is far too nuanced to be discussed in 120 characters or whatever the fuck the limit is on those Twitter-style social media apps–can’t we just enjoy the fact that a show about two men falling in love is the hottest thing on the planet right now? Can we stop being concerned about straight people watching and their opinions, and whether or not they’re pandering for views or clicks?

I would like to take a moment to remind everyone that the biggest selling gay novel of the modern post-Stonewall era was The Front Runner by Patricia Nell Warren? I knew Patricia very well, and I can assure you that she was definitely not a man.

Heavy sigh.

And on that note, it’s off to the spice mines with me for the day. Wish me luck on the day–who knows what it will bring in its wake. I’ll be back tomorrow, though. No worries!

Imperial Hotel

Sunday morning! It’s seventy degrees outside this morning, with the cold front not quite here yet; it’s going to start raining soon (per the forecast) which is part of the front’s arrival, along with shockingly low temperatures later on today. It looks very gray outside, the ground is wet, and I am incredibly happy I don’t have to leave the apartment today other than to take the recycling out, which I should do right now before the rain gets here. Hang on, I’ll be right back.

Okay, I’m back. My legs are strangely tired and a bit sore this morning–the Achilles tendons in particular again–so I think when I finish this I might do some stretching, which I should start doing regularly again. I never really had to when I was younger–being naturally freakishly flexible meant I didn’t need to, but it was bad to never develop a regular stretching routine. I wonder, if now that my anxiety is under control, maybe the gym won’t be such an anxious experience for me. I’d conquered gym fear back in 1995, but after so long away from it I always had that anxiety whenever I would go back and try to get done as quickly as possible. I am going to return after Carnival and hopefully stick to it; I definitely need more stamina, and I’d like to shave off some extra weight (but without the assistance of the damned ulcerative colitis, of course). I know I’ll feel better the stronger and healthier I get, too.

Yesterday was definitely a day of odd energy. I got up a little later than I should have, and wasn’t as motivated as I had hoped. I would be. I think it was partly the oncoming storm on the horizon that was unsettling? I did run some errands (seven boxes of books to the library sale) and had some things delivered. I also braved the grocery store the day before a horrible winter storm descends upon us here in southeastern Louisiana. It was pretty hectic and crowded, and the check out lines were lengthy. But they were checking people out with a high degree of efficiency (for once), so it didn’t take nearly as long as I had feared it might. It was a very gray day, too–it was just gray and windy and chilly. I got home and unloaded the car and put everything away and relaxed for a bit. Sparky curled up in my lap and I spent some time catching up on the latest horrors from the current administration of fascists and liars and murderers. I also spent some time rereading one of my favorite books of history–Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror. We also watched the first three episodes of Ryan Murphy’s latest pretty production of a disjointed narrative, The Beauty.

In all honesty, I am not sure what to think. of The Beauty. It could easily have just been another season of American Horror Story rather than a stand-alone series. I also could do without child sexual abuse supporter and a friend of Diddy who regularly attended the “freak-offs” on my television screen. I’ll watch, but we’re not giving Ashton Kutcher a redemption arc, thank you very much. I’ve also not seen his ex-wife’s The Substance, but there seem to be an awful lot of similarities between the two. There’s a lot of things that could be said about our American obsession with youth and beauty, but I seriously doubt we’re going to get it from a Ryan Murphy show. It’s also my thought that the show will go off the rails and stop making sense, the way so many of the Ryan Murphy seasons do, before long. One day I may be able to break my hate-watching need for Ryan Murphy’s deeply flawed productions, but we aren’t there yet. After we caught up on it, we switched to the Australian Open and watched that until it was time for bed. I also made dinner last night, so the kitchen is a bit messy this morning. I do think, though, that once I finish and post this I may go read for a bit before getting cleaned up and getting the house under control yet again.

And yes, we’ve had another murder of an American citizen–a male nurse, at that–in Minneapolis by the tax-payer funded Noem thugs. She, and the rest of them, all lied about it, of course; which she should be civilly liable for; I do think the victims’ families should be able to file wrongful death suits against Noem, Homeland Security, and this administration. So glad y’all couldn’t bring yourself to vote for the highly qualified Black woman because you didn’t believe she worked at McDonalds and had a stranger laugh you didn’t like. Fuck you all, now and forever. There can be no forgiveness without atonement and genuine remorse. I’ll probably carry that grudge to the grave. Have fun in church today, Pharisees.

It’s funny, because one thing I’ve been researching for a future book is the 1970s and its pop culture, which is fun and interesting–although the clothes and hairstyles can be safely left to the past and memory. But one of the biggest things I can remember in the 1970s was the Bicentennial; many now aren’t old enough to remember that. I’ll probably write an essay for the newsletter about the Bicentennial at some point. Remembering what a huge fuss was made for the Bicentennial makes it kind of surprising that no one seems to give a shit that the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence is this July 4th. Kind of ironic that it was written as a result of years of authoritarian British colonial rule and justice…while on a major anniversary of the signing we have elected our own authoritarians and tyrant to abuse our freedoms and liberties. The way they can bald-faced lie despite the overwhelming video evidence that proves they lie about everything and anything.

The lengths they will go to in order to distract from the Epstein files is pretty telling, isn’t it? It’s worse for them for the epstein files to come out than shooting American citizens dead in the streets.

That’s a pretty big fucking tell, isn’t it?

Well, the rain has arrived and it’s very dark now, so I am going to repair to my easy chair and my coffee and read some more Ken Holt and Eli Cranor. Stay safe and warm wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning. Thanks for stopping by!

Wild Heart

Saturday and the cold is coming! It’s going to be in the teens Monday and Tuesday! AIEEEE!!!

Okay, now that I have gotten the expected reaction to cold on its way, it’s not that big of a deal. Yes, it’s going to be unnaturally cold this weekend, starting with rain later on today and working its way down to the painfully cold temperatures we’ll experience tomorrow. I can handle the cold by wearing layers to work or anytime I have to go outside while this abysmally cold weather goes on.

And gloves. Must find my gloves. I am going to attempt to run some errands and make some groceries today–no big deal if it’s insanely crowded and I wind up not wanting to deal with it (one never can be sure how New Orleans will react; the shelves may be empty of things like bread, which I don’t need). If it’s anything like hurricane prep, it could be a nightmare out there today as everyone tries to get everything done today so they don’ have to be out in it tomorrow. There’s a chance of snow or ice, too.

Yesterday was a good day. I got my work duties out of the way, and spent the rest of the day doing laundry and pruning down the books, filling up an insane amount of boxes. You can finally tell that I pruned the books. Anything I’ve already read, gone–unless its nonfiction. If I’ve had it for over ten years–donate it. They were paid for and the authors (or their estates) got their royalty from buying my copy, so I don’t feel as guilty about not reading everything I’ve ever bought. I am not going to feel guilty for not reading everything I’ve bought–the author made money off me, and what more can I do for them? I certainly don’t expect every author I know to buy or read all of my books.

Going through the books was also a trip down memory lane–oh I was on a panel with him or oh I saw this author on a panel and was impressed or oh yes I read one of her books and loved it so I bought all of her books or he was so nice! whatever happened to him?-which was also kind of nice. I’ve met a lot of really talented people over the course of my writing career!

I was also a lot more ruthless this time, and can still be even more ruthless the next time I prune the books. As I was pruning, I marveled at how the urge, the nonsensical need to always be surrounded by books, isn’t as strong as it used to be–so it was due to the anxiety I no longer experience to a such a high degree. I used to think I always wanted to hoard books out of a fear of not having something new to read whenever I was ready to read something. But, as I pruned ruthlessly yesterday, I didn’t agonize over the decisions and was very cut-and-dried with them. I also realized that I had an almost parasocial relationship with books. When I was a kid, I felt disconnected from the world and like I didn’t belong in it and that everyone could tell I was different, and different meant freakish, weird, strange and always just a step away from a total ostracization and complete isolation from other people. Books, and my imagination, were tools for me to escape my existence into somewhere safer, where I wasn’t weird or strange but just normal. Books were always my lifeline, offering not just the escape but comfort, and filled that role my entire life. Shitty job and miserable existence? Oh, there’s a new Stephen King, Sue Grafton, Elizabeth Peters, or Robert Ludlum novel to pick up at the bookstore! (I rarely ever used the library because I preferred to own them; I needed them around me to feel safe and comforted in my amped up anxiety. My dream was always to live somewhere that I could have my own library…I don’t find that to be as important to me anymore, either.) I also used to reread a lot–usually when I didn’t have a lot of time to lose myself in a book, I’d just take down something I’d already read and spend my reading time revisiting something I’d already enjoyed.

I also started work on this version of Chlorine, trying out a new opening that makes a lot more sense to me than the one I was convinced for years was the best way to open the book. We’ll see how it goes, won’t we?

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close so I can get started on my day. Have a lovely Saturday, stay warm, and I’ll be back to see how you’re doing in the morning, ‘Til then!

Pretty young Hunter Doohan, an out gay actor whose work I’ve enjoyed

enchanted

And here we are on another work-at-home Friday, after an odd week. Monday was a holiday, and of course I took Wednesday off, so this has been an odd week. I kept thinking yesterday was Monday, for one thing, which was weird–I felt rested and motivated for most of the day, which was a good thing. I was also very efficient, getting everything done that needed to be done, and of course, I have work at home duties to get done. I slept well again and got up earlier than usual, so I feel good this morning, too. Might I actually get some things done this weekend? Remains to be seen. There’s a cold front coming in over the weekend, with temperatures dipping down into the freezing range on Sunday. We’re not supposed to get snow and ice, but….one never can be certain, can one? I did get some chores done last night, too, so I am already ahead on the weekend. All the dishes are clean, so all I need to work on is pruning the books some more and the floors. Huzzah! I should have time to get some writing done as well as some other cleaning and organizing, and reading, too. Well, we’ll see, at any rate; I reserve the right to be lazy this weekend.

I get all sorts of emails trying to sell me ebooks on sale for either $1.99 or $2.99, and usually I’ll get things that I’ve already read, or something I meant to read all along yet never obtained a copy. Yesterday, the ebook I impulsively bought was Thus Was Adonis Murdered by Sarah Caudwell.1 I have a mass market paperback copy I bought any number of years ago, and I cannot remember who recommended it to me, or why they did; but I now have it in physical and ethereal form, so maybe I’ll get around to reading it this year. Maybe I’ll get around to reading something, anything, this year.

I was delighted to see Sinners get so many Oscar nominations, setting a new record for most with 16. I personally loved the movie, thought it was incredibly well made, written, and acted, and am really happy the Academy seems to be getting past its issues with horror cinema (Frankenstein also got a lot of nominations, and I still want to see it). Maybe this weekend I can carve out some time for a rewatch of Sinners, as well as Frankenstein and my rewatch of The Mummy.2 I always have so much to do, and being overwhelmed by it and getting none of it done is a long-standing issue in my life. I think I am nervous about working on Chlorine, and that is effectively blocking me from getting other things done along the way, too. Obviously, the answer to that dilemma is idiot, so start working on it–it can always be fixed. I don’t know why I can’t get past the fear of writing stuff I may not be able to use, but here we are, you know?

I still haven’t watched the final season of Stranger Things, and honestly, can’t drum up much interest in my mind to even consider watching. I don’t remember much, if anything, of the previous season…which is probably part of the problem. We also lost interest in Welcome to Derry, too. I think watching Derry and not getting into it has something to do with my lack of interest in finishing Stranger Things. The show started out as an homage to Stephen King and the 1980s, which made it a lot of fun for me those first few seasons…but if anything, It was kind of the blueprint for Stranger Things, and as a fan of It, there was a lot of issues in my mind with continuing with Derry–and having started Derry, I think the similarities is the mind block for me.

I got my twenty-one year pin this week at work, which was yet another damn you’re old moment for me. I’ve worked there now for nearly a third of my life (my previous record for a job was five years) and a lot has changed since I went to work part-time at the CAN office of the NO/AIDS Task Force twenty-one years ago–not just for me and the world, but in HIV testing, treatment, and care. Twenty-one years ago we hadn’t reached the ability to achieve undetectable viral loads (making you non-infectious) and PrEP (to prohibit new infections).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you again tomorrow morning. Till then, arrivederci!

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  1. And yes, it bothers me that I cannot remember why it was recommended to me. I guess it doesn’t matter. ↩︎
  2. I love the Brendan Fraser/Rachel Weisz movies so much–but I can’t remember which movie is which! It will be part of my newsletter’s Egypt series. ↩︎

Gate and Garden

Wednesday morning that doesn’t feel like a Wednesday, following close behind a Tuesday that didn’t feel like a Tuesday. Sigh. I have today off to attend a memorial service for a close friend, and so tomorrow is also going to feel a bit off, too–another day in the office before work-at-home Friday and the weekend. Yesterday was weird, you know? I was a bit stiff and sore from Monday’s fender-bender, and my energy just felt off all day. It was very weird, honestly, and probably a hangover from the adrenaline spike on Monday afternoon. That accident could have been so much worse than it was, too. Thank goodness for staying calm in the moment, right? It was a bit cold yesterday morning, too, but it felt okay when I left for the office. I had an errand to run on the way home, and I was back in my chair with a purring kitty before it got terribly dark, which was a very nice outcome. I was very tired when I got home, too, so didn’t really do much of anything last night…and I slept for almost twelve hours! I’m not sure what that was about, but I feel rested and good this morning, the coffee is going down easily, and Sparky is perched on my desk watching the windows.

There was an arson attack in the Bywater the other night–some friends’ home burned, along with eight parked cars and I think maybe one more house? Arson is terrifying in a city with a long history of burning–I don’t even know how many great New Orleans fires there have been, but I do know big swathes of the Quarter burned down several times in the eighteenth century. I also know that under the right conditions the entire city could easily go up in flames again. When we lived on Camp Street in the mid-to-late nineties, there was an arsonist setting fires in the lower Garden District; theoretically, he burned down a house on Coliseum Street as well as the old Coliseum Theater–which I am still not convinced wasn’t an insurance fire–how convenient for the property owner not to have to deal with a historic building and the insane process to tear it down. There’s a big building full of condos there now…and I know at one point I had wanted to write a Chanse book about an arsonist here, but somehow never got around to it…and of course, this recent arson has me thinking about a New Orleans arsonist again; I also wrote two Scotty books about fires–Bourbon Street Blues has a house fire, and Jackson Square Jazz came out of the Cabildo fire…and of course, I also wrote about the fire at the Upstairs Lounge in a Chanse, too. So I have written about fires in New Orleans…funny how you forget things you actually wrote yourself, isn’t it?

I think when I get home from the service (and the errands we are going to run afterwards) I am going to get some chores done around here so I don’t have to do them this weekend. I won’t be as tired as I usually am on Thursday, either, so I should be able to get things done tomorrow night after work, too. I think I am in the clinic alone again, but that’s fine. It’ll be a busy day for me, too–lots of things will need to get caught up for the week, now that I am missing a full day–but it’ll be fine. I can also get some reading done, too–it really is wild how hard it is for me to sit down with a book these days, you know? I was remembering yesterday about how much I used to read–and when I was growing up books were also a lot longer. I spent the summer before my junior year reading Michener–I read Hawaii, Centennial, Tales of the South Pacific, and Chesapeake that summer; I really wish he would have done Louisiana–and the summer before my senior year reading Herman Wouk (Marjorie Morningstar, Youngblood Hawke, The Winds of War, and War and Remembrance) while also reading thick volumes by Taylor Caldwell, Irving Wallace, and many others.

And now it takes me two weeks to reread The Postman Always Rings Twice. How things change.

And on that note I am going to head into the spice mines as the world and country burn to the ground around me. Have a lovely midweek Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before work! See you then!

If Anyone Falls

And the holiday has arrived. I slept well last night, and didn’t want to get out from under the covers, which were so incredibly comfortable this morning. I can tell that it’s cold outside my windows as I sit swilling my coffee and chowing down on my coffee cake. I wore tights under my sweat pants all day yesterday and that was very cozy yesterday, too. I should probably run an errand this morning, but I am also thinking it can wait maybe until tomorrow? I don’t know if the groceries are open today–grocery employees should get holidays, too, you know–but it will not hurt me in the least to give it the old college try. Yesterday was a very nice day. I wasn’t tired or achy at all–I usually am good by Sundays of my weekend–and I did manage to get some things done. I worked on the books and made progress, filling up two boxes of donations to take to the library sale this coming Saturday, and there’s at least enough pulled out to fill another box today, too. I did some picking up and cleaning yesterday, and also worked on organizing computer files. I watched some documentaries on French history, caught up a bit on the news (always dreadful) and read for a while, which was a lovely start to getting back into reading again–and I am going to carve out some time this morning for reading, too. Huzzah!

The other day on social media–I don’t recall if it was Bluesky or Threads–but Saeed Jones had discovered the wonders of Maldon brand sea salt and was sharing that information–before moving on to fancy gourmet style butter. I had already discovered the magic of Kerrygold butter (someone talked about regarding tariffs earlier last year, so I got some and was completely sold on this bougie butter), but there were some other brands mentioned that I’d not heard of, so I’d been trying to locate Maldon salt here locally (Rouse’s claimed to have it, but I didn’t find it in either of the two stores I frequent) and some of those bougie butter brands; I was planning on making baked potatoes last night, so I thought why not make them completely bougie? I didn’t find any of the butter brands, but got some more Kerrygold (including a stick of garlic and herb butter!). And yes, the Maldon salt is amazing. I am completely sold on the bougie salt! Now I am thinking of getting some of that pink sea salt they have at Costco…who knew there was fancier salt and butter all this time? Regular salt and butter are, of course, perfectly fine; but yeah, the bougie stuff is pretty damned good. Thanks, Saeed! And they say no good can come from social media! I laugh in their face HA HA HA HA HA!

I also decided to rewatch my favorite episode of Heated Rivalry yesterday–Episode 3, “Hunter,” which is the almost self-contained romance of Scott Hunter and Kip the smoothie barista. This was the episode when I became truly vested in the show, and committed to it emotionally. It was so well written and acted, and their chemistry together was incredible, sweet and intense, and I was in tears by the end of the episode, just as I was when I originally watched it. It’s such an excellent episode, and it definitely left me wanting more when I finished. It was even better on the rewatch, and I caught things I didn’t the first time. (I had seen that people were rewatching the show, and while I certainly can’t commit to the time required to watch the whole thing again, I thought “hey, I can watch this episode again!”) SPOILER: I was absolutely delighted they wound up together after all, with Scott publicly kicking open the closet door. I do hope we see more of Kip and Scott in future seasons! I’ve loved Francois Arnaud in everything I’ve seen him in (The Borgias….sigh. He was so good as Cesare), and this new young actor playing Kip is gorgeous, charismatic, and may even have the best body on the show, which is saying alot.

I also spent a lot of time scribbling free form in my journal yesterday, something I’ve not done in quite a long time. It was nice to let my mind wander and let my hand scribble. I’ll have to look at it again today to see what was running through my mind yesterday while I idly watched my French history documentaries (mostly about Cardinal Richelieu, Louis XIII, and the Thirty Years’ War–I also watched a good one about James I and the Duke of Buckingham). Once we’d had dinner, we finished Seven Dials, which seems to have a different ending, among other things, than what I remembered–but I could very easily be wrong. I’ve always loved the character of Lady Eileen Brent, and maybe that’s why I remember the novel so fondly, but I know for sure I loved The Secret of Chimneys and have reread it numerous times during my Christie era. We then started season two of The Night Manager, which is a lot of fun, and Tom Hiddleston is certainly not a problem for one’s eyesight.

As I mentioned, I did spend some time with The Secret of Hangman’s Inn and the new Eli Cranor, Mississippi Blue 42. The Ken Holt series is one of the highest bars in juvenile mystery series, and probably the hardest boiled of them all. I can’t wait to write about Ken Holt again! Mississippi Blue 42 is set in the wild world of college football, with a pair of FBI agents investigating criminality (paying players). Eli is a terrific writer, his debut Don’t Know Tough was set in the world of high-pressure high school football, and I am way behind on his canon…and spending some time with this book is reminding me of how much I love his work.

And on that note, I should probably get going with my day. I am going to try to be productive, but at the same time I am not going to kill myself getting things done, either. So, have a great day while I head into the spice mines.

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I Will Run to You

Sunday morning, I am up early, and it’s 35 degrees here. No snow here that I am aware of, but some places along the Gulf Coast did get snow, like Gulf Shores, Alabama. This morning is the best I’ve felt in the morning this entire weekend, and I think after yesterday’s low-energy-didn’t-even-unload-the-dishwasher day, it’ll be nice to get things done this morning and have a nice day. I did run those errands yesterday, so I don’t have to leave the house today (tomorrow may be a different story); and it’s warm and cozy inside this morning, too, which is marvelous–can some time in my easy chair with a book and a blanket be in my future? Absolutely! I am also going to shave and get thoroughly cleaned up this morning, too. AMBITIOUS, right? Getting up early and feeling genuinely rested is a lovely feeling, I must say.

We finished Run Away last night, which was fun and interesting and went into an entirely different path than I expected from the beginning. We then moved on to the new Agatha Christie adaptation, Seven Dials, which is based on one of my favorite Agatha Christies, The Seven Dials Mystery. I’ve always been an odd Christie fan; I started reading her when I was about ten or eleven, and spent most of my teens reading the entire Christie canon. While I did enjoy her more famous and iconic novels, my favorites of hers have always been lesser-known, and are probably considered her weaker ones. My absolute favorite is Endless Night, followed by The Secret of Chimneys, Death Comes as the End, N or M?, and The Pale Horse, among others. I really liked the character of Bundle (Lady Eileen Brent), and she is quite fun in this adaptation as well. We watched the first two episodes last night, and there is one more to go today. I suppose we’ll watch Stranger Things next, as completists, but there’s a lot of good shows to watch at the current moment, a tough problem to have.

As I mentioned, yesterday wound up being a low energy day. I didn’t run all the errands I needed to, cutting some things out because I was tired and didn’t want to push my luck. I did make groceries at Rouses and the Fresh Market, but after bringing everything in I was pretty wiped for the rest of the day, and my brain couldn’t really focus enough to read, so it was back to documentaries for me in the afternoon while Sparky napped in my lap. I did clean up and organize some computer files–an endless task indeed–which I will probably do more of today. The apartment isn’t neat and orderly, but it’s getting there. Today may also be a “prune the books” kind of day, too. I definitely need to empty the dishwasher and take the recycling out, for sure, and get the rugs back in order. It’s weird to have tomorrow of as well, but…there are worse things. I took Wednesday off for a funeral, too, so this is going to be a very strange week for me. Normality will return next week, but then it’s Carnival.

Sigh.

I’m really getting used to–and spoiled–by all this time off from work.

Despite the temperature, it’s beautiful and sunny outside today, with a blue sky and no clouds to be seen anywhere. I just saw that it also snowed in Pensacola, which is wild…Pensacola being about two hours or so from New Orleans east on I-10. Snow below I-10 is kind of crazy; I always joke that I moved south of I-10 specifically to avoid cold weather. I definitely need to write a Scotty set during the blizzard last year…I’ve decided to jump ahead with the series rather than trying to keep the books in a continuous timeframe, realizing at the way things are going in a couple of years the books would be considered historical fiction if I kept on the way I was, so I am going to skip ahead and recap in the intro to the next one. I can also go back and write more that are out of order, if need be; other series have done that, too.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and read for a bit. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Hitch a Ride

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and here we go, launching into a three day weekend. I was still a little drained yesterday when I finished work yesterday, so I ordered groceries and worked on chores and ignored the Internet. It’s lovely to disconnect once in a while to let my brain heal in order to face another day–and social media is becoming less and less fun (when was the last time it was truly fun?) and more emotionally disturbing. It’s also rarely helpful in dealing with any of the shit going on right now, either. I ordered groceries and just kind of rested while doing chores. There was a shit-ton of laundry to do, and dishes and…and…sigh. As I said yesterday, Sisyphean tasks indeed. indeed. But Paul brought dinner home–Chinese; I love me some shrimp lo-mein1–and we watched the LSU-Georgia gymnastics meet when he got home from his day before moving on to an episode of Run Away, which has definitely taken some turns on its journey to episode six. We’ll undoubtedly finish it today, with only two episodes left to go. I went to bed relatively early and slept very late this morning, which goes to show how tired and run down I was feeling. I’m a little worn still today, but I have lots of things to get done over the course of the weekend. I had planned to run a bunch of errands today and get them out of the way, so I wouldn’t have to do anything outside the apartment for the rest of the weekend, but when I woke up I wasn’t so sure if I would run them or not….but as the coffee and coffee cake kick into gear again for me, I might just be able to do that.

I’ve really started enjoying writing the newsletter, but it takes longer to write those entries than it does the blog, you know? I shoot this off every morning when I am drinking my coffee and waking up every morning, in less than an hour and think about my previous day and what I want to get done that particular day, what I watched and read and am looking forward to enjoying while putting all my “reviews” (books, movies, television shows that I want to get more in depth about) in the newsletter….as well as writing about my own past and the books and movies and things that inspired me, shaped me, and influenced me into who I am as a person and as a writer, which is very fun. I am in the midst of one about my lifelong interest in ancient Egypt and trying to remember where that interest originally sprang from. I’ve watched some interesting documentaries about ancient Egypt recently; ones about the three Golden Ages of ancient Egypt as well as one about the Ptolemaic dynasty, who have also always interested me (Cleopatra VII, the one we all know, was the last Ptolemy).

I also started writing some newsletters about Scotty and the upcoming release of Hurricane Season Hustle (available for pre-order; drops on February 10). The story behind the book might prove interesting to others beside me; on the other hand maybe not, but it’s also a kind of interesting example of how some book ideas can take shape and form even when it takes two decades. This was originally supposed to be Scotty IV, but things changed and now it finally is Scotty X, which is wild; how are there ten books in this series that started out as a stand alone?

I have to go to Office Max to buy envelopes so I can send out copies of the new book to the people I always gift them to; the mail; a prescription; and two different grocery stores. Heavy heaving sigh. That is probably going to wear me out for today, but if that’s the case, I’ll just clean and read and watch documentaries. I think Paul is going to be at the office this afternoon, or upstairs working, so I should be able to get all this stuff finished before I settle in for the day to read. I think I’ll dive back into The Secret of Hangman’s Inn today, and bust back into the Eli Cranor tomorrow. Pretty cool, methinks.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely holiday Saturday, and I’ll be back in the morning.

  1. Which is probably not even Chinese but American Chinese… ↩︎

Smokin’

Pay the Bills Wednesday has somehow rolled around again, and yes, there are bills to pay and errands to run and all of that fun stuff for me after work this evening. It was cold again yesterday, but this time I was smarter and wore layers. I don’t think it was as cold in the office yesterday as it was Monday…but again, that could have simply been layers. It’s also not as cold this morning as it has been, and I am wondering if I should do the layer thing again today anyway; the office has been horrifically cold this week for some reason. A quick check of the weather app on ye olde phone and no, it isn’t going to be in the forties. I slept well last night, so I feel very rested and awake this morning–a pleasant surprise, actually. I came straight home from work yesterday, and of course, had to play with and cuddle with Sparky, as he won’t be denied. I got caught up on the horrible news before watching another episode of Run Away, a particularly twisty show we are enjoying, despite the annoying male main character’s toxicity, and then it was off to bed for me.

I also managed to get my latest newsletter (which you can read by clicking here if you so desire: America America), which is about my passion for US History and watching the Ken Burns documentary, The American Revolution, which I watched last month and enjoyed. I also found it timely–it reminded me and its viewers of the noble principles of freedom and liberty from oppressive government with which this country was founded–in spite of its legacy of enslavement and genocide, we’ve never really achieved the democratic utopia the founders envisioned (because of the enslavement and genocide)–and whatever this is that we’re living through is about as far from that utopian (for white men) ideal as we ever have been. The so-called “melting pot” theory of the United States has always been kind of bullshit, hasn’t it? The nation of immigrants that slams the door shut on immigration? Just horrific.

Scott Adams, the sad tragic piece of shit who blew up his successful career in comic strips by being very publicly an asshole and turning off the majority of his readers, died this week from prostate cancer. However, as a true MAGA believer he of course distrusted medicine and used quack medicine from quacks to treat it, only for it to not work and to start proper treatment too late: a suicide by stupidity, if you will. The only reason I mention this is his death triggered a post on social media by Kevin M. Kruse, noted US historian, reminding us all of Bill Amend and Foxtrot, a strip I used to absolutely love but had forgotten about, so I subscribed to get his weekly Sunday strip. Huzzah! (Adams, a bottom-feeding scavenging scum piece of shit, also converted–in theory, anyway–to Christianity to save himself from the flames of hell…which is the thing about Christianity that is so bogus to me. You can live your life as the most hateful asshole on the planet, convert on your deathbed and still go to heaven? While someone else, who spends their entire life doing for others and helping people, will go to hell because they didn’t convert? Fuck that shit.)

Which again begs the question: which Christian franchise is the real one? Sigh.

But over all, it’s been a pretty good week overall, as we head into yet another three day weekend.

Erich von Daniken also died recently, which was kind of weird; I was surprised he had only just now passed, to be honest. I have been outlining an essay around the subject of weird takes and lore, beginning with Chariots of the Gods and going on to the Bermuda Triangle and numerous other strange books about strange theories or occurrences that I read a lot about when I was growing up and how those weird books–many of which I didn’t really buy into because of the poor scholarship and lack of actual evidence. But they were interesting ideas and theories that triggered my imagination and anything that does that is worth reading.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I’ll be back tomorrow!

Something About You

‘Tis Tuesday morning and all is well; at least so far, at any rate. It was very cold at the office yesterday, which didn’t make a lot of sense. The temperature did drop overnight Saturday, as I may have mentioned yesterday, but man, it was so cold in the office yesterday it made me sleepy and my knee joints ache–which is a new ache, I might add. I was also experiencing some pain from my left Achilles tendon yesterday, that I noticed particularly as I pushed the cart around the grocery store last night. I did make good on my plan to stop and make a little groceries last night on the way home, but was very tired from the cold and once I was home, collapsed into my chair with Sparky. The apartment was very warm and comfortable when I got home, but I also realized yesterday that I didn’t dress appropriately for the cold, either. It’s 39 right now outside, so yes–layers and a jacket for the day (and a sweater and a T-shirt). Did I mention that it was insanely cold in the office yesterday? Feel free to mock me, people from the frozen tundra up north, as y’all are wont to do. I don’t care.

I also decided yesterday that one thing I definitely need to do this year is get the ebook of Jackson Square Jazz put up at long last. I just need to revise and copy edit it, and I may even do a bit more polishing on it than was originally done. I don’t know why I was so determined that the ebook be exactly like the (long) out of print hard copies, but there you have it, you know? My insistence that it be exactly the same and not changed or revisited at all was came from the obsessive part of my brain and now that I’m medicated, that’s no longer a thing. There’s no point in setting a personal deadline, because I always blow those in any case (kind of like the publisher ones), but I can add it to the long list of things to do (I still need to update my to-do list, don’t I?) and can at least try to get it done by spring. I do have a three-day weekend coming up this weekend, too….and no Costco trip, either, so that won’t wear me out. Huzzah? I guess the national championship in football game is this week, too? That should tell you something–that I don’t even know when the game is being played. Anyway, I need to reread the book first at any rate, and since my mind seems unable to focus enough to read something, anything, else…maybe this will kick-start my brain back into reading some more.

You know what straight women who consume queer content but try to exclude queer people from said content are? Homophobes. I saw over the weekend a horrible post in which a gay man in Utah went to an advertised watch-party for Heated Rivalry, and long story short, the straight women kicked him out because “he made them uncomfortable.” Seriously? I’ve seen a lot of this sort of “gatekeeping” on this show, but also on gay romance. Almost twenty years ago, I was attacked and lied on and smeared and slandered because I dared to say that there was clearly homophobia in the “m/m community”–which there was, always has been, and there still is obviously1; and I certainly do not need any cisgender straight woman to tell me what is and isn’t homophobic, thank you very much. If you’re MAGA and read/write gay romance, you probably shouldn’t be–because you aren’t allies, you don’t care about us or our rights, and how fucking dare you appropriate our lives and stories (and spaces) to make money? I have always said anyone can write anything they want whenever they want; I am not in the habit of telling any artist how to express themselves creatively. It isn’t a matter of can you, but more a should you. No one has a right to be published–and no one has a right to book sales and an audience, either. I don’t want anyone telling me what I can and can’t write; and I am not going to tell anyone else what they should write or read or watch or anything like that.

And as the watch-party story spread across social media, one of the terrific things I’ve seen is actual straight women allies calling that behavior out as exclusionary and homophobic, which is a lovely change from the way they all used to pile on anyone with the mildest question or concern about said writings and writers, particularly those who thought making jokes about queer identity when not being actually queer wasn’t homophobic.2

And for the record, I know any number of straight women who write excellent fiction about gay men.

It really is amazing how Heated Rivalry is driving so much discourse, isn’t it? I’ve also taken to occasionally watching reaction videos of straight guys watching and loving the show; my favorite are the Empty Netters, who’ve gone kind of viral. It is really, really nice seeing straight guys getting vested in the show–they tuned in for the hockey but got caught up in the story. I tend to think those men probably weren’t actively homophobic, or really were, deep down; I’m sure they’ve made gay jokes and used gay slurs to be funny with other straight men. But being open to watching a gay romance show, getting vested in it, and spreading the word about the show to get more viewers? That’s awesome, and the sort of thing we need more of in the future, despite the country burning to the ground.

And on that grim note, I am heading into the spice mines.

I’m very pleased with how this picture, from the Iris parade a few years back, turned out.
  1. The attacks on me were incredibly homophobic–and I will never forgive nor forget those bitches. ↩︎
  2. I also loved how some of them were horrified at how queer fiction is marginalized in the industry. I mean, duh. ↩︎