Let’s Go

I like the nightlife, baby!

The Cars’ Candy-O album, for the record, also holds up forty years later.

It’s the Monday of my last infusion, which means I need to get ready and drive out to the farthest extreme of Metairie this morning; I’m not really sure where Metairie ends and Kenner begins in all honesty. I’m going to take my book with me to read for the two hours I am in the chair attached to an IV. Woo-hoo! But this is, as I said, the last one, and I’m kind of glad about that, in all honesty. I am sick of IVs, if I am being completely honest. Everyone at the infusion center is lovely, of course, but…

Sunday was a lovely day around here. I grilled yesterday, and we watched the rest of Wednesday, which is a lot of fun (although I keep thinking of the show as a continuation of the movies from the 90s, which it’s not) and I love that my favorite Wednesday, Christina Ricci, is in the cast. Now they just need to write a part for Joan Cusack! We also started Chief of War with Jason Momoa, which is beautiful–looks like it was filmed on location in Hawaii, although I didn’t know that they have kudzu in Hawaii; I don’t recall ever seeing any when I was there, but apparently they do. Also turns out most of the show was shot in New Zealand, not Hawaii, which is interesting. I also read more deeply into El Dorado Drive, which I am loving (and can’t wait to get back into at the infusion center), and I also worked on my own writing for a while yesterday. I am looking forward to working on it more after the infusion, too. I think I am finally getting back into the swing and rhythms of my own life again at long last–but let’s not hold our breaths, shall we?

There’s a tropical system looking to develop into something major out near to Cabo Verde Islands, but will most likely turn north in the Atlantic (so they are saying) and not come ashore in the US. The season is definitely starting to get amped up, unfortunately. I was thinking more about the Katrina aftermath and writing something for the newsletter about the twenty year remembrance; and I am glad I watched that documentary series last week about the disaster. I think I am ready to talk about it again. I also was thinking about my essay on religion that I want to finally finish for my newsletter–this was from finishing season two of Shiny Happy People–and also recognizing, at last, that I can also write them in parts–which is also something I can do with other essays.

Sometimes I wonder about myself, you know? The reason I even thought about this in the first place was because I was thinking yesterday about writing a serialized novel for my newsletters, which then became duh, you can do this with the essays as well so they aren’t so long. I still am up in the air about the newsletter and what I should use it for…but I also want to be careful about freezing it into something clearly defined because then I get into the old “that’s not what this is for” when the truth is it can be whatever I want it to be and any rules for it are set by ME, which means I am also not bound by any such rule. What am I going to do, punish myself by grounding me from writing it for a while? Posh, what ignorance!

Heavy heaving sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I may be back later after the infusion–one never can be entirely sure with me–but if not, tomorrow morning for sure. Have a lovely Monday!

Don’t Cha Stop

It was supposed to rain this morning, but the sun is shining and the sky is bright blue. I slept well again last night until Sparky got me up this morning, wanting his breakfast. (He is such a sweet boy.) I had a lovely day yesterday, actually. I ran my errands in the morning, ordered groceries to be delivered last evening, and had a pretty nice day overall. I finished rereading my Jay Bennett and Barbara Michaels novels1, and hope to finish reading the Megan Abbott today. I also watched a lot of television while doing chores and reading before falling asleep in my chair last night after a nice, relaxing day. Here’s to having another today, right?

Netflix has a new show about the 2024 SEC football season called Any Given Saturday, and so I watched about four episodes of that while Paul slept on the couch. It’s very well done, and while I don’t feel it pays enough attention to LSU–and what there is focuses on games they lost (really? No coverage of the amazing upset of Top Ten-ranked Mississippi?)–it is nice to see the stories on the other teams and get a recap of the season. The show, of course, is hype for the upcoming season; the pro pre-season is already under way. I think LSU can be really good this year, but LSU always manages to find a way to LSU. There are only two episodes of the show left–we switched it off to watch Wednesday, which we also didn’t finish last night–that I may have on in the background this morning while I read.

I think I am going to go ahead and spend some time with the news and my coffee this morning before finishing this. I’ll be back momentarily, Constant Reader. (According to the weather, we should be having a thunderstorm in five minutes, which I don’t think is going to happen, given how it currently looks out there.)

It’s now noon, and it never rained here. It does look like the calm before a storm outside my windows at the moment, but I’ve already closed up my wagon and put it away (I’d left it out last night after the delivery) just in case. I got cleaned up–even shaving–and that woke me up and made me feel being productive for a while. I put Any Given Saturday back on to stream, getting through the last two episodes while reading more of El Dorado Drive and marveling at what a fucking MASTER Megan Abbott is; she may be the best writer publishing today, and is definitely in the top tier without question. I also picked out my next reads: the reread will be Life Among the Savages by Shirley Jackson2 and the juvenile/young adult will be The Secret of the Red Scarf, which belongs to a close-to-forgotten girls’ series featuring Nancy Drew rip-off Kay Tracey, and I won’t decide on the new new-to-me read until I finish the Abbott–I’m currently torn between Mia Manansala’s latest or Disco Witches of Fire Island or Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages; all queer authors, I might add.

But The Hunting Wives might win the race in a photo-finish.

As I finished off Any Given Saturday, I found myself very curious about the lack of coverage for Texas, Georgia, Oklahoma, and Auburn, among others…and LSU and Alabama were only covered in reference to their games with South Carolina and Vanderbilt, period. Was it about getting some of these lesser-known programs more coverage? And it’s definitely difficult to cover 16 teams with any degree of depth and certainly every team had a story to tell this past year. But it definitely whetted my appetite for the return of college football, which was its intent, so mission accomplished, Netflix.

I’d forgotten we’d watched Towards Zero in between the SEC show and Wednesday; I’d seen bad reviews of it so was curious as to what we would think of it. I remembered the story as soon as I saw the geography of the setting, which is crucial to the crime, and yes, I was proven correct in the third episode. It was fine, if perhaps not really needing a third episode? It did feel like it was dragged out more than it needed to be, which is not a good sign for a murder mystery.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I need to do some picking up and organizing and cleaning, and I am also going to write for a while before probably returning to the Abbott. I doubt I will be back later; I may finish a newsletter today and I may not. If not, I will be here again in the morning before the infusion. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader!

  1. I will write newsletters about both authors at some point. ↩︎
  2. I’ve always wanted to write about this unique Jackson book; I usually reread The Haunting of Hill House every October. ↩︎

My Best Friend’s Girlfriend

I’ve always thought today’s title, an old classic by the Cars, would make for a great y/a title. What if a gay teenager was in love with his straight best friend (it happens), only to have the best friend get a girlfriend the gay kid suspects is evil, as in occult evil? No one believes him because they think it’s jealousy…this story always springs to mind whenever I hear the song.

And that first album by the Cars is still a jam, almost forty years (!!!!) after release.

Saturday morning here in the Lost Apartment, and Sparky let me stay in bed later than usual, which was lovely. I am slurping down my first cup of coffee and have already had my coffee cake, probably moving on to cereal in a moment. I do feel good and rested this morning. I took it easy after work yesterday, simply sitting in my easy chair and morphing into a cat bed for a worn out purring kitty. I finished watching Hurricane Katrina: Race Against Time, which I really appreciated. I did get a little teary when listening to the experiences of the people who couldn’t leave and the clusterfuck of the response to the catastrophic levee failure (which failure was lain entirely at the door of the US Army Corps of Engineers, where it belonged), and the response was entirely a systemic failure. It also went after the media reporting, which was wrong and caused problems for the efforts to rescue people and get them out. I did remember how angry the reporting by the legacy media made me (fuck Fox News and their racism now, then, and forever) because I had a flash of anger again at the incompetence. I’m glad I watched, but I will never stop mourning the New Orleans that was before, or the people we lost. I also decided to go ahead and write a twenty years later essay for the newsletter. Last night as I watched, I was trying to remember what I actually did write about Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath (besides the blog): my novel Murder in the Rue Chartres; my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” and a shorter, edited down version called “I’m Still Dancing”; and the short stories “Annunciation Shotgun” and “Survivor’s Guilt.” I think part of the reason I wrote so little about Katrina and the rebuilding was because I didn’t want to be defined as a writer by the storm.

But I think there is another essay about Katrina inside of me that I need to write. I may start writing it this weekend, but we shall see.

I do have to go pick up some prescriptions and some groceries while I am out, and I am going to potentially order some more to be delivered this afternoon. I also made good progress on chores yesterday; I did all the bed clothes, and a load of dishes that needs to be put away, and I also cleaned off my kitchen counters. I also picked some things up around here, too. I want to write and read today, too–once I finish this I will go to my chair and read for a bit before I go run those errands and get them out of the way so I don’t have to leave the house tomorrow. Monday is my last infusion and I took the day off so I can come home and rest and read some more. Huzzah? Huzzah! I think we’re probably going to move on to watching Wednesday’s second season tonight, too.

I do feel good this morning–the cereal was an excellent choice, but now I need toast–and so I am hopeful I’ll be able to get some things done today. So, I probably should put some bread in the toaster and bring this effort to a close for the day by heading into the spice mines for the rest of the morning. Have a lovely and terrific Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later today or again tomorrow morning.

Adorable out gay Olympic gold medalist in diving Tom Daley of the UK

You’re All I’ve Got Tonight

Thursday! Interestingly enough, after being so pleased yesterday morning and bragging about not having had insomnia in a long time was a mistake. I woke up around three this morning and never went back to sleep–if I did, it wasn’t very deep and I was waking up every ten minutes or so. This means I will hit a wall today, and probably earlier than I have been lately. I wanted to run errands on the way home from work tonight, but it’s not looking good. If I am worn out, I won’t want to drive uptown and should probably just come straight home. I need a few things from the grocery, but I might just have them delivered instead.

Unspeakable Sins continues to enthrall. Our primary villain was murdered in last night’s episode, and everyone in the main cast is a suspect (the episode was very “Who Shot JR?” in its staging and writing and very well done) and we’re on to the last three episodes of the season, which we should finish off tonight.

Well, I didn’t finish or post this yesterday. I am not sure why that happened, but I started doing some other things before getting ready for work and when I got home last night, I was surprised to see I’d never finished or posted this. I was right about yesterday–I was very tired when I got off work, but decided to do some of the errands on the way home. I picked up the mail, picked up three books I’d ordered (the new Donna Andrews, the new Scott Carson, and The Hunting Wives), but forgot to pick up prescriptions, which means I have to go back uptown today–which I’d hoped to avoid. I was extremely tired when I got home, and started watching a new National Geographic documentary about Katrina. I decided to bite the bullet and see how watching it went; if it was a trigger, I would stop watching. I didn’t finish the first episode, because Paul came home and we watched the new South Park1 and laughed our asses off before watching the final three episodes of Unspeakable Sins, which was excellent–and wrapped up everything, but also left us with a final shot that could be the set up for a second season should it be renewed.

Watching the documentary wasn’t triggering at all–at least not what I’d seen by the time Paul got home–and so I am going to finish watching it this weekend. I think twenty years was enough time for the PTSD to finally end (I am also taking anti-anxiety medication, which could help with this). We were able to watch Five Days at Memorial, which was a reenactment of what happened at that hospital with an emotional remove; maybe because it wasn’t actual documentary footage but a reenactment with Hollywood stars, I don’t know. Paul and I did watch it for a bit before I put on South Park, and we were remembering our own evacuation all those years ago without any sadness or emotion; it was nostalgia–I can smile about it now, I suppose, but we were so terrified on I-10 East and worried we wouldn’t get out in time. I also remember it started raining as we were on the twin spans to Slidell over the lake. Sigh. I was thinking I might post my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” to my newsletter, but it is over twenty thousand words long.

Or I could write another one., from my current perspective. We’ll see.

I’m not making big plans to get a lot done this weekend, as that never seems to work out for me and that always starts a guilt spiral. Who needs that in their life? Certainly not me! I have a meeting at ten and some day job duties to get done today. I have Monday off as well; it’s my final infusion and I couldn’t get my usual nine a.m. appointment so I could go to work after; this time they only had eleven a.m., which is smack dab in the middle of the day so I decided to use some sick time and just come home after I am done. I can also pick up lunch while I’m out in Metairie. I’m going to try to be a homebody this weekend, because I know the infusion is going to fatigue me. I may just read the rest of that day and rest.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later!

The Avenue of the Sphinxes connecting the temples at Luxor and Karnak, Egypt
  1. I have thoughts and concerns about this season, which is brilliant. ↩︎

Just What I Needed

Monday and back to the office with me today. Yesterday was nice and relaxing; I worked on writing for a while, didn’t do as many chores as I should have, and watched a couple of shows. I didn’t want to get out of bed again this morning–no surprise there–and am a little bummed to not have another day off as of yet. But I’ll survive, as I always do, which is no more than I should expect, one supposes. It’s hard to believe that it’s August and my birthday is looming, as is football season and Bouchercon is also coming to New Orleans the first week of next month. I’ve got a lot to get done in the month of August, and I really need to buckle down and apply my nose to said grindstone. It’s just tough when you have to battle fatigue and exhaustion all the time.

We watched the Netflix documentary series Amy Bradley Is Missing, which was interesting and terribly sad at the same time. I cannot imagine the pain of having a family member disappear without a trace the way Amy Bradley did off that cruise ship. As a disappearance of a family member is the crucial plot element of a book I am researching to write at some point in the future (The Summer of Lost Boys), watching this kind of counted as research for that, as it gave me insight as to how a working class family would react to such an occurrence and how the family would be permanently damaged….which also got me thinking about aftermaths to crime and horror stories. How do you go on with your life after fighting supernatural threats? Or after being a murder suspect? Or having someone close to you commit a serious and most heinous crime?

After dinner, we started watching a new Mexican erotic thriller series on Netflix, whose title translates to Unspeakable Sins. Like all Spanish-language erotic thriller series, there’s plenty of sex and nudity; we only watched three episodes (there’s two seasons of nine episodes each) but even trying to summarize the plot thus far–but the primary plot concerns Helena, a wealthy woman in a very controlling marriage to an older man, who starts having an affair with a very hot young escort, whom she convinces to flirt with her bisexual husband so they can get video of the two of them together and she can use the video as leverage to divorce him. Ivan pretends to be a journalist doing a story on Claudio, Claudio is attracted to him, but things go south–they fight and Ivan’s story is he ran away. But there’s blood all over the house and Claudio is now missing…can Ivan trust Helena or is she playing him for a fool, setting him up to take the fall for his murder?

That’s the primary story, but there are subplots as well that are just as intense.

Ivan is played by gorgeous Andres Baida. I mean…

Gorgeous, just gorgeous.

I also spent some time processing seeing friends from high school that I hadn’t seen in almost fifty years. (The fact that it’s been almost fifty years since I graduated from high school also needs processing, but that will have to wait until I am done with this initial processing.) Every time I’ve had a conversation with someone from high school in the last thirty years–it’s not often and it’s not many–how they remember me, and high school, are vastly different from how I remember things, but they also never knew how miserable and unhappy I was. I always put on a good face; I always try to make the best out of every situation I find myself dealing with as they come up, especially when it’s not something you can change or alter in any meaningful way. As I’ve stated before, I’ve always thought I was odd-looking and never really had a fit body until I was in my thirties. But…seeing pictures from back then…I was wrong about how I looked (I’ve always been wrong about that, frankly) and my impact on other people. Both women remember me as having a really muscular fit body and being handsome and very kind and considerate and thoughtful–and funny; I’ve always been funny.

And I did work on writing yesterday. I edited another piece and wrote out what changes need to be made to it to make it stronger. I also did some laundry and a load of dishes, but didn’t pick up too much of the mess in the apartment. I do enjoy spending down time with Paul and Sparky, and really wish we were both retired and just hanging out around the apartment all day. Paul likes to be busy, though, so I do think he will take some adjusting if and when he finally does retire. I won’t be retiring for another few years yet; not going at 65, much as I would like to, so I have to get my shit together leading up to when I finally do.

After work today, I have to make groceries on the way home, and I’m hoping to do some writing tonight before we jump back into Unspeakable Sins.

So on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be checking in with you again in the morning.

Photograph

Saturday morning and I feel rested after a very good night’s sleep. I got my work done yesterday after which we went to Costco, and groceries were delivered last night. All of this wore me out on top of all the chores I got done yesterday as well. I finally collapsed into my easy chair, Paul and Sparky curled up on the couch, and we binged about three or four episodes of The Hunting Wives, and there’s only two episodes to finish off tonight. I have a lot of errands to run this morning–prescriptions, mail, and two other stops–and then want to spend the afternoon writing and reading. I am having dinner with two friends from high school (!!!) that are in town for the weekend later on this evening, but it’s early enough so when I get home we can finish off the show, which is amazing (although there is no way that kid has a basketball scholarship to Baylor).

We’re supposed to have thunderstorms tonight, which will be fun as it always is (and will help me sleep very well again). Tomorrow I don’t have to leave the house at all other than taking out trash or using the grill (I think I’m going to make beef stroganoff tomorrow rather than burgers), which will be nice. I am going to try to do some more straightening up around here today–and will try not to be horrifically lazy the way I sometimes get on weekends–around writing and reading. I’d like to finish the Abbott today (or this weekend), and I also need to get through my Elizabeth Peters and Jay Bennett rereads as well. I’m not really sure what to read next: Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen, perhaps, or maybe some horror, I can’t and don’t need to decide right now, either. I think my next Gothic reread might be either a Phyllis Whitney or Victoria Holt. Not sure on the kids/young adult next read or reread, either.

And I think Wednesday comes back next week, which is cool.

I did make some good progress on my workspace yesterday. It’s still a bit messy this morning, but just some straightening and filing is all that is necessary to get it all under control again. I think I’ve been feeling closed in and claustrophobic in the house because we have so much clutter everywhere, which isn’t much fun (the claustrophobic feeling), and that’s also because the heat and humidity of August is almost a sentient thing outside my windows; something oppressive and thick to the point where it feels like we’re in a cave sometimes. I just don’t have the energy to spend an entire day focused on cleaning, you know? Sparky making messes everywhere he goes doesn’t help on the cleaning front, either–always knocking shit off flat surfaces, like all cats do. He’s lucky he’s so sweet and cuddly.

I did actually think about what I need to revise this weekend yesterday, and I kind of know what to write now; it’s going to be an extensive revision, which should be fun to do and I will feel like I accomplished something today when I am done.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. I’m going to go catch up on the local and national news (depressing and horrifying as the national news inevitably always is) before I go run the errands and kick the day off.

Don’t Shoot Shotgun

Goodbye, ruby Tuesday! We’re still having a heat advoisory today, and at this point I am trying to remember the last time we weren’t in one. I slept well again last night, and again didn’t want to get out of my comfy bed this morning. Ah, well, get over it, Gregalicious. I had a good day at work yesterday and got a lot done; but once I was home my ambitious plans for the evening fell by the wayside yet again as I provided a cat bed for Sparky and actually fell asleep for a little over an hour! That never happens. I did get some work done last night before falling asleep, and I am hoping that I’ll get some more done tonight. I am not going to be hard on myself because part of this new leaf/new stage in my life is being kinder to myself when I don’t live up to my own expectations.

We’ll see how that goes.

I also wrote two more entries, about the short stories I contributed to a couple of anthologies that are about to drop, and that felt kind of good, you know? I reread the stories for the first time since copy edits and you know, they are pretty good stories, and I am very pleased to be in anthologies with such terrific writers surrounding me. I also sent out a newsletter, about my reread of The Dark on the Other Side by Barbara Michaels, so yeah, I did get some writing done yesterday. I usually don’t count the blog and the newsletter as writing work, but they really are so I really should, shouldn’t I? It’s sometimes hard to believe I’ve been blogging since December of 2004–so blogging will be turning twenty-two later this year. Since I will also be 64 shortly, that’s about a third of my life. And now I’ve been a published author longer than I was not, if that makes sense? I’ve been a published author over half of my life now.

A definite milestone.

It’s also nice to feel reconnected to writing again, which is something I just realized that I am feeling again after a very lengthy period of not feeling connected to it, if that makes sense? I barely remember the beginning of this year. anything before I got sick is just kind of a blur nowadays, but I do know the writing of the new book wasn’t going well–and I was really exhausted going into getting sick, which made writing even harder. I don’t remember last year a lot, either. My memory is rather pathetic these days, and I am having trouble remembering things I should know. (While watching Wicked the other afternoon I could not remember Michelle Yeoh’s name to save my life; I wound up looking it up on my phone.) But this morning I feel like of course I can get all this stuff done, which is a lovely feeling and one I’ve not had for a considerable time.

We started watching The Hunting Wives last night on Netflix, based on the recommendation of a co-worker, and while we only watched the opening, pilot episode, it seems like the kind of soap operatic melodrama I often can’t get enough of (see past addictions to All My Children, General Hospital, Dynasty, and Melrose Place) and I am really looking forward to the rest of this first season. I went straight home after work last night, no stops anywhere, and while I may not have gotten any chores done (I need to empty and reload the dishwasher, and there’s clothes in the dryer) but the straightening I did this weekend is still holding firm. I may go straight home tonight, too–I need to have some things either picked up at the grocery, or delivered–and I can wait to go by the postal service tomorrow on the way home.

So, once I make it through my day job, I can get straight home and get to work on the chores before settling in to do some writing. I’ve promised a short story to an anthology–I already have two that with a bit of revising would be perfect–so I need to get back on those revisions, and I still have some other writing to get done that I really need to get done by Friday as a preference, Monday as a last ditch effort.

So, on that optimistic note, I am going to head into the spice mines this fine hot Tuesday morning. Stay cool wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back later or tomorrow morning to check in with you again!

Spirit in the Sky

I have written another Alabama story! It will be in the Crippen & Landru anthology Double Crossing Van Dine, which you can preorder right here. My story is called “The Spirit Tree,” which was a lot of fun to write, and am very excited that the anthology will release later this month/early September. I again got an editing credit (along with Donna Andrews and Art Taylor, both of whom do a lot more work than I do on these books), and I do absolutely love that cover.

Isn’t this a great cover?

Turn right on Simmons Road and in a half mile, your destination will be on the right.

Tom Forrester slowed his official State Bureau of Investigation SUV and glanced in the rearview mirror. Nothing behind him but blacktop state highway back to the S curve he’d just negotiated. He flipped on the turn signal and made the turn onto a back road. It stretched out before him, a narrow expanse of red dirt and gravel down to the bottom of a hollow and climbing back up the other side. He was getting a headache and wished again he’d asked for someone to come with him. He’d never been to Corinth County before, hadn’t even driven through it. Yes, it was in his district, but it was remote. At least an hour to the nearest interstate. Outsiders had to want to come to Corinth County to get there.

It amazed him that there were still these random remote counties all over the deep South, seemingly untouched by the outside world.

But the county seat, for all its population of about three thousand, had a Wal-Mart and a McDonalds, and almost every house or trailer he’d seen from the road had a satellite dish either in the yard or affixed to the building. Was anything truly remote anymore?

The road wasn’t wide enough for two cars, so he hoped he didn’t meet anyone coming from the other direction. A cloud of red dust followed closely behind the vehicle. At the bottom of the hollow there was a small stream flowing through corrugated iron beneath the pitiful road. And he noticed a rusty barbed wire fence running along the front of the pine forest on the left side, caught a glimpse of a rusted tin roof surrounded by overgrowth.

It looked…familiar.

Not a bad start, right?

The anthology also has an impressive table of contents:

You can find Van Dine’s commandments (there are twenty) here, if you want to look them up.

Mine was: The problem of the crime must be solved by strictly naturalistic means. Such methods for learning the truth as slate-writing, ouija-boards, mind-reading, spiritualistic séances, crystal-gazing, and the like, are taboo. A reader has a chance when matching his wits with a rationalistic detective, but if he must compete with the world of spirits and go chasing about the fourth dimension of metaphysics, he is defeated ab initio.

So, yes, like I did in the last anthology of this nature that I was in, chose supernatural/occult as my way of breaking said rule. I’ve done this before, of course, in novels; two subgenres I prefer are crime and horror–and I do love crossing/blurring the lines between the two of them.

Several years ago (it may have been last year; my grasp of time isn’t the best anymore) I read a book called Salvation on Sand Mountain, about snake-handlers in north Alabama (I’d also watched a documentary called Alabama Rattlesnake) which reminded me of a bit of country magic. When I was a little boy–a very little boy–I remember visiting someone in Alabama–and there was a small tree beside the front porch, with bottles slipped over the ends and catching the sun in colorful flashes and making tinkling sounds when the wind blew the branches together. I asked, and was told it was a ‘spirit tree,’–the sound of the bottles kept evil spirits and ghosts out of the house. I’d forgotten about it until I read it in the book, and I remembered it all very clearly.

So, I sat down and wrote an opening scene, in which a state investigator is going to a crime scene, and when he gets there, there’s a spirit tree beside the porch. I had no idea what to do with the story–how to finish it, who was murdered and why, etc.–and it went into the files. When I was asked for a story (and a by-line credit) for this anthology, I looked for the supernatural rule, claimed it, and pulled out “The Spirit Tree.”

Yes, it’s another Corinth County story, like Bury Me in Shadows and “Smalltown Boy” and “The Ditch,” not connected to the others by anything other than location, really, but it’s location is pretty much everything!

Hope you enjoy it–and the rest of the contributors are exceptional writers, so I know you’ll enjoy theirs, too! What are you waiting for? PRE ORDERS ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED!

Gods of War

Monday morning and we survived yet another heat advisory weekend. Something tropical is bringing us more rain later this week, but the heat will continue its efforts to bake us all alive every day in the meantime. It was a lovely weekend, and one I was sorry to see end. Perhaps not as productive or effective as I would have preferred, but it was nice to chill and relax and get some things done. But it could have been worse. I can always be lazier. Sparky let me sleep late again yesterday, but I did manage to get most of my chores done. I spent some time with Megan Abbott’s latest (it’s superb), which has me thinking about my own writing (as the best authors always provide inspiration, and a desire to do better work myself) this morning as I peer through the condensation on my windows this morning.

And facing down yet another week of work. Woo-hoo!

We finally watched Wicked Part One yesterday, and it was very well done, but…I also didn’t connect with the material, either. I am probably the only queer person who doesn’t worship at the altar of The Wizard of Oz, so Wicked has never appealed to me as anything other than “oh, what a clever idea!” It moved very quickly and was at the end before I knew it–“is this ‘Defying Gravity’? Doesn’t the first movie end with that song?” (It’s also the only song I know from the show.) Visually it was stunning, the acting was top-tier, and everyone was terrific–and the story never drags or becomes boring or dull. I also adore Jonathan Bailey, so his supporting turn was deeply appreciated. I appreciated the accomplishment that is the film, but it was…okay, I guess. A better way to put it is I didn’t get caught up in the magic at any point while watching. It was very good, though.

This appears to be very good news on the HIV/AIDS epidemic; an injectable twice yearly that is 100% at blocking infection? That will surely have an impact on my job–clients certainly won’t have to come in every three months anymore, if they only need the medication twice yearly–but who knows? I do think it’s important to get every gay man and trans people on this schedule to eradicate the disease at long last in this country. This news also made me miss my friend Victoria deeply again. Every time I see a funny political meme I think I need to send this to Victoria–oh. Sigh. How many conversations have we had about the HIV/AIDS plague and all the people we’ve regrettably already lost? Queers who lived through those horrific early decades of the plague all carry a bit of PTSD with us and a bit of survivor’s guilt: why did I survive? What was so special about me?

And you just have to accept that it’s random and doesn’t mean anything more than that. Just like Katrina, just like almost everything bad that has ever happened to me and those around me throughout my life. There’s no rhyme or reason to this world, no matter how much Christians want to whine and harangue the rest of us about “God’s plan.” The probable truth that there is no God, or divine entity, or sense to our lives, is too much for most people to wrap their minds around–just as the question “where did God come from? Who created the Creator?” unsettles many of them.

Heavy sigh.

And I really do need to start doing some promo for these anthologies I have contributed stories to the table of contents…

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, and I may be back later, perhaps; if not, it will be tomorrow morning.

The colossi of Memnon, Egypt

Love and Affection

Sunday morning, how are you doing this morning? Shockingly, Sparky let me sleep super-late this morning, so I am beginning the day already feeling behind, which…is just anxiety I need to let go of, isn’t it? Yesterday was pleasant. Paul ended up rescheduling his trainer from yesterday to today, so I didn’t have the alone time I thought I’d have. I did spend some time with Megan Abbott’s superb new novel, and I did some chores for sure, but overall I didn’t feel like I managed much. We watched a couple of movies, and then started watching the second season of Shiny Happy People, which focuses on the “Christian” cult of Teen Mania.

Seriously, freedom of religion is important, but sometimes it gets taken too far. Sexual abuse of children under the guise of “religion” should be a dealbreaker, period, regardless of religion. How much money has the Catholic Church paid out in settlements for child rapist priests? Madness. And yet, the raping and covering up continues, unabated….while the Church maintains it has moral authority over its flock.

We rewatched Jaws yesterday; I can’t remember the last time I saw it, but I very much remember the first time I saw it: Mom took us after church shortly after it opened, and the only three seats together in the theater was in the center front row, so the screen was right there in front of us–and it was terrifying. The movie is very well-made, the performances of everyone other than Brody’s wife were terrific, and it very much followed the formula of the classic disaster movie–officials, worried about money, ignore the experts and open the beaches anyway, which leads to more death–only with a very big audience so the existence of said enormous shark is no longer in question. It’s also a monster movie, so when we finished we watched Wolf Man, which wasn’t great but wasn’t as terrible as reviews and commentators made it sound. Julia Garner is always terrific (loved loved loved her in Ozark), and it was entertaining enough. I thought the suspense was good and the story itself was pretty simple; I don’t think the prologue was necessary but other than that, it was a solid B score from me.

I had groceries delivered yesterday, and this new modern-day experience is one that I quite enjoy. It’s much easier to go on an app, order the food, and then wait for it to be delivered, rather than getting cleaned up and dressed and driving around town then having to do the shopping myself once I get to the store. One delivery came around noon, and the other arrived about half an hour later, which was marvelous. There are some other things I forgot to order, but they can all wait until I go to the store (or order again) on Wednesday on the way home from work. I am trying to decide if I want to make Swedish meatballs today, or ravioli, or any of the other options there are in the house today.

And obviously, I have a lot of reading, writing, and editing to get done today. I need to make a fresh to-do list, and one set of cabinets really needs to be better organized. I also need to find a place to store the endless boxes of tissues we got at Costco the last time we went. I also have some filing to do; when I finish this I’ll probably go watch some news and read until I feel like getting to work. Reading is often a risk because Sparky will see me in the chair as an invitation to sleep in my lap, and once the cat starts sleeping it’s all over for me. In my own defense, he’s awfully cute and sweet. I am so happy he’s more comfortable around us and more affectionate–he loves riding on my shoulders–and he’s also, after months, decided his cat bed is a perfect sleeping spot.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the morning. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; if not, it will be tomorrow morning. Until then, ta!

Anubis