Never Ending Song of Love

Wednesday and we have achieved midweek at last. Yesterday wasn’t a very pleasant day–it could have been worse (it can always be worse)–but I was not sorry to see the day come to a miserable close, frankly. My Fitbit claimed I had one of the better nights’ sleeps that I’ve had in a while (the highest sleep score I ever got was an 86 out of 100; yesterday morning showed “82”–I’m not really sure how this all works but anything above an eighty is supposed to be good and anything below not good; yesterday felt like a 76 to me, but I’ve been wrong before) and I definitely ran out of steam in the mid-afternoon around three o’clock. (The last two appointments every day are awful–for me; I hope the clients don’t notice that I’m loopy and tired…) I don’t think I slept as well last night as I did the night before–my Fitbit is currently syncing with my phone, so I’ll get last night’s ‘sleep score’ soon–and it was, indeed, a 77, which isn’t good.

But was about what I expected, so another day of running out of gas in the middle of the afternoon. Huzzah.

Progress of a sort is being made. I turned in the Bouchercon anthology yesterday (note to self: let the contributors know) so that’s off my plate, and now I get to start diving into the edits on my book. They are extensive, but will make the book stronger and I am going to need to start pulling all of that together quickly and soon. I did (briefly) start working on the Scotty book over the weekend, and I do need some time to think about that one as well. I guess next week in the car on the way to Kentucky I’ll have some time to think about it, around listening to whatever books I decide to listen to on the driving. I also have a shot at getting that story finished, since the deadline is later than I thought, but we’ll have to see precisely how much free time I have this weekend. I still haven’t decided what book to read yet–I was much too tired when I got home from work last night to read, so it was another evening of catching up on shows Paul doesn’t watch before he got home late.

I’m really tired… of being really tired.

But the world continues to turn and time continues to pass. Paul also expressed surprise at how quickly May has flown by thus far; I was thinking the same thing myself yesterday. This entire year has kind of flown by, it feels like, but on the other hand New Year’s and Carnival seem like a very long time ago. I tested negative for COVID yet again this morning–it still boggles my mind that I, of all people, have never had it–which is a good thing; I would hate to come down with it before my trip next week–and I am not feeling nearly as overwhelmed this morning as I was feeling, say, yesterday morning. I still have a shit ton of things to get done in the meantime, but it seems a bit more do-able this morning to me. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, I don’t know, but I just seem to feel better about everything this morning. I’m not feeling particularly creative this morning either, but stranger things have happened, and maybe once my morning coffee kicks completely into gear my creativity will start to flow as well.

Ha ha ha. A boy (even a sixty-year-old one) can dream, can he not?

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader!

I Feel the Earth Move

I indulged myself by staying in bed until almost nine this morning–I know, right? I woke up at three and again at five (like every other night this week; this is a trend in my sleep that I am not liking all that much), but stayed in bed. Now that I am up, it’s gray and wet and gloomy outside; maybe it was rain that kept me in bed. What is it about rain and being safe and dry and warm that feels so comforting? I wish I knew. I am also trying to decide this morning over my coffee whether I want to leave the house today. I should swing by the mail and maybe make some groceries and get gas for the car; I also need to get my taxes together, work on my short story, and some other things. I also want to spend some time with Chris Holm’s Child Zero today (and this weekend). I should also brainstorm some more plot ideas for the two books I’ll be working on this year, and once I get this story in some sort of shape I want to go back to “Never Kiss a Stranger” and “Festival of the Redeemer” and some other stories. I had pretty much decided to use April to do clean-up on some things–finishing stories etc–and now it is April; how delightful is that? I can hear thunder, which makes leaving the house seem even more undesirable; I’ve not checked today’s weather. Paul is seeing his trainer today, and instead of going to the office immediately after he’ll be coming home. I think we might (I might) rent Spiderman No Way Home today; we started watching Death on the Nile last night on Hulu but bailed on it when the first ads popped up in mid-scene; at least on a broadcast network, they plan where the commercials will go so a character won’t get cut off in mid-sentence. I am really starting to dislike Hulu’s services for streaming; I remember trying Youtube TV and hating it because it’s interface was useless and difficult to navigate. I really would prefer not to go back to cable under any circumstance; I despise Cox with every fiber of my being. The great irony was the reason I chose Hulu in the first place for a streaming service was because their interface was intuitive and incredibly easy; so naturally they keep changing it and making it less user friendly. (Although to be honest, I was only interested in watching Death on the Nile in order to see Egypt; there’s no way this newer version can possibly top the original with Angela Lansbury, Bette Davis, and Maggie Smith.) Instead we turned over to Netflix and dove into the second season of Dark Desire, which got us caught up in the story immediately.

We wound up going to Costco last night after Paul got home from work to get it out of the way. I also had to take Scooter to the vet for his biannual senior kitty workup–dropping him off and picking him back up later–and I think the Costco trip wore me out. Why is Costco so tiring for me? I hope someday to have a better understanding of that. And we spent a lot of money but it didn’t seem to me like we got as much stuff as we usually do? I don’t understand–will probably never understand that, but I suppose it’s prices going up everywhere that is to blame.

Ooh, it just got darker, which means storm a coming. Ah, there’s the thunder. And it lasted quite a while, too….I suppose I should check the weather.

Ah, rain all morning and then sunny the rest of the day. That I can live with. It also solves the problem of what to do about the errands–run them today or wait? The mail can wait until Monday; there’s no rush to getting it, after all, and I could always just run to the Rouse’s in the CBD to pick up the few things I do actually need. Decisions, decisions.

Ah, there’s the lightning and the rain and even more thunder. I may have to turn on a light, it’s gotten so dark.

I do love New Orleans rain; I’ve never lived any place where it rains the way it does here. I mean, it fucking pours down here, coming down so hard and fast that the drains (and pumps) take a good while to catch up with it. I own about twenty umbrellas as a result of being caught in the rain unexpectedly; it can also go from hot, humid and not a cloud in the sky to a torrential downpour with street flooding in a matter of minutes. Although this doesn’t seem like one of those street-flooding monster storms; this seems more like a oh the greenery needs watering kind of rains. Doesn’t mean it can’t turn even uglier as I sit here typing, but hey. It’s still one of those chill damp mornings where curling up under a blanket with my coffee sounds vastly more appealing than any of the other dreadful things I need to do today–dreadful might be a bit harsh, but unpleasant certainly doesn’t miss the mark nearly as much.

So on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and head over to my easy chair to spend an hour with Child Zero–I’ll figure out the rest of the day when that hour is up.

Have a happy Saturday, Constant Reader.

Touch

Ugh, I must confess I am one of those people who despise the time change. I forgot to reset my alarm clock last night when I went to bed, so of course this morning I didn’t remember that I’d forgotten (yes, well aware of what I just wrote)

Sunday and I am debating as to whether or not to run the errands today I’d originally wanted to run yesterday but didn’t because of the St. Patrick’s Day parade. Yes, we pretty much will throw a parade for any reason here in New Orleans, and for those of you who are unfamiliar with the New Orleans St. Patrick’s Day parade, they do indeed throw things from the floats. Just like Carnival, they throw beads and cups and plush toys. They also throw potatoes, cabbages and carrots; the idea being you could catch the ingredients to make dinner at the parade. As for me, I’d rather not stand beside the street while parade riders hurl hard objects at me that could bruise or injure; given that my heel was bruised because my shoe insert fucking slipped the other day, imagine what would happen to me at a parade throwing hard objects at me. But now that I’ve gotten up and realized the impact of the loss of the hour…I’m debating whether or not the errands can actually wait until tomorrow after my work-at-home duties. I mean, I can’t get the mail today anyway, right, so I am going to have to go uptown tomorrow or after work on Tuesday. I do need to finish the final two chapters of the book revision today–I made some great progress yesterday, did I not?–and worry that running those errands could wear me out and put me out of the mood to work on it. Of course, there’s also no rule that says when I should run the errands; I could run them late this afternoon after I get the things I need to get done today completed.

Ooooh, doing something different. How not like me, right?

Yesterday was relatively pleasant. I worked on the book after I got up, did some stuff around the house, started reading Donna Andrews’ The Twelve Jays of Christmas (one can never go wrong with Donna Andrews), and then last night settled in for a rewatch of 2010, the sequel to Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I rewatched during the pandemic (I’d also already seen 2010; we rented it one night in the 1980’s but got incredibly high so I really didn’t remember much of it other than it made 2001 make a lot more sense; just as the book cleared up a lot of the stuff in the original that didn’t make a lot of sense). One of the things that I always enjoy about watching old science fiction movies is to see what they were able to predict right about the future and what they got wrong; just like in 2001, in 2010 Pan Am is still around, as is the Soviet Union. Part of the plot’s premise is that the US and USSR are on the brink of war over Honduras; at the time the book was written and the film made it was inconceivable to Americans–anyone of the time, really–that the USSR was actually on the brink of collapse and wouldn’t survive in that form for another decade. I also had to wonder, wouldn’t Jupiter becoming a second sun in our system dramatically alter our orbit around the sun and our climate? Even though we are much further away from Jupiter than we are from our actual star?

It’s kind of hard to imagine Earth going from a one-star system to a two-star without any other impact.

Then again, I am not an astronomer, so what do I know? I did enjoy the film the second time around; I’d forgotten that young John Lithgow was in it, as was Helen Mirren as the leader of the Soviet space team.

I also read a marvelous two-issue crossover between two comics, Nightwing and Superman: Son of Kal-el, featuring the bisexual new son of Superman, Jonathan Kent (which reminds me, I am way behind on Superman and Lois). Nightwing/Dick Grayson remains my favorite DC Universe character; I hope HBO MAX will drop a new season of Titans soon.

And on that note, I think I’m going to read some more Donna before I get back to my own manuscript. Have a lovely Daylight Savings Time Sunday, Constant Reader.

But I Love You More

And just like that, in a snap of the fingers, it’s Friday again and I am working at home. Huzzah? Huzzah!

I have apparently reset my body clock at long last. It took until age sixty plus a few months, but I woke up this morning without the alarm at just before six. I chose to stay in bed until seven–it was very comfortable under my blankets this morning–but I am now out of bed, drinking my first coffee, and feeling pretty well rested and wide awake. I have, as always, a lot of things to do today (some errands to run, work that needs doing, chores that are overdue) but right now I am feeling like I can get it all done without a problem; that’s undoubtedly incorrect–at some point I’ll get derailed or hit a wall or something; it happens every time–but right now I am going to roll with it most happily. I’ve managed to keep up somewhat this week with the chores, so the Lost Apartment doesn’t need as much attention as it generally does as we roll into the weekend; but maybe that’s because we had a truncated work week (thanks Fat Tuesday!). Either way, I want to see if I can build on that and get more things cleaned–the other stuff that I never manage to get to; like dusting picture frames and so forth. I suppose we shall see.

And I might even be able to get caught up on everything. Ha ha ha ha, it had to be said, right?

So my goals for this weekend are to get through my to-do list and make a new one. I have editing to do and writing to do and decisions to be made about my career and my future–always a daunting subject, always put off for another time because i don’t want to deal with it–and hopefully, this weekend will be an opportunity. As I said earlier, I feel more rested this morning than I have in a long time–rested and relaxed–which means, at least for now, that I feel like I can do anything and everything and I can conquer the world, which is a nice feeling…I know I can’t realistically take over the world, but it’s always nice to feel like I can if I wanted to, you know? I definitely want to finish reading Kellye Garrett’s Like a Sister this weekend; it’s quite good, and it feels good to be enjoying reading again. I’d intended to do some reading when I got home from work yesterday, but was very tired–drained, really; it was one of those days at the office for some reason–and so I just kind of hunkered down, let Scooter climb into my lap, and watched history videos on Youtube about Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine’s history. I want to spend some time this weekend figuring out my new Scotty’s plot and subplots–I want this to be a labyrinthine story, ever more so than Royal Street Reveillon was–and I also need to figure out what else I need to be writing this year, and there’s so much else that needs to be caught up on…heavy heaving sigh. But rather than feeling defeated, this morning I feel like I can get everything done and it’s just a matter of rolling up my sleeves and getting to work, which is always a lovely feeling, frankly–and one I’ve not felt in quite some time. Yay? Yay.

Definitely yay.

So right now before my first work meeting of the day I have laundry going–it’s launder the bed linens day, after all–and have to unload the dishwasher. I need to make a grocery list. I need to work on my to-do list and create a new one. There’s always organizing to do around here (my computer files are finally starting to get it together, but there’s still a very long way to go, sadly), and there’s always another chore somewhere that I’ve not noticed (or have ignored for so long that it now escapes notice and seems normal for whatever it is to be the way it is–not a good thing) and of course, I need to get my taxes and stuff together. See? These are things that should be going on my to-do list, rather than being written about here. But that’s just the way my brain bounces around, you know? But it does feel nice to have shaken off the cobwebs and that aching bone-tired feeling, as well as the clouded brain thing. (I shudder to think how much worse this week would have been had I actively participated in Carnival as much as I have done in the past…yikes indeed.)

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines and try to get some things done before the work meeting. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader; I certainly intend to!

Stoned Love

It’s Ash Wednesday and before dawn as New Orleans crawls out from under and returns to what passes as normal around here–which by the standards of everywhere else, ain’t normal.

I’m kind of glad to see it over this year. I’m sort of glad we had it–it felt like a return to normalcy of a kind, even if I didn’t feel excited about it or participated in it much–but I’m also happy it’s over. I feel very weird having been essentially trapped inside the house for the last six days or so, with small windows of opportunity here and there to run necessary errands and get things done. I spent a lot of the time tired–I’m not sure what that’s all about it, but “low energy” has been a thing around here for quite some time–and last night I went to bed at nine. I did submit a story to that magazine that asked for one–I finally gave up on “Parlor Tricks” yesterday morning–it literally was like pulling teeth–and instead edited what. I have on “Never Kiss a Stranger” down to about 4000 words, tacked on an ending, and turned it in as “To Kiss a Stranger (Summer of 94)”. I doubt they’ll use it–hell, I may never even hear back one way or the other; professionalism when it comes to short story submissions, with some exceptions, seems to have gone the way of the dodo over the years–but at least I tried. I now also am wondering if this story needs to be a novella or not; slicing all that extra stuff out of it felt really good, and while the ending wasn’t necessarily stuck (that can always be fixed, of course), the story itself wasn’t bad in its trimmed down state. Which naturally puts me on the horns of a dilemma: keep it as a short story and fix the ending, or leave it as a novella and finish revising/writing it?

Or…why not both?

We finished Toy Boy last night (I keep calling it Boy Toy, which is incorrect) and….not as good or as interesting as the first season, alas. By the time the final episode rolled around I realized I hadn’t been paying as close attention as I did during the first season and thus had literally no idea what was going on in the finale–which ended remarkably well, given how dull the season actually proved to be–and set up the next season quite well…which means we will probably watch the third season, if there is one. Paul’s late night schedule and Carnival has thrown me off on everything we watch; I don’t remember what series that are currently airing that we were watching–but it should show up on my up next on Apple TV.

At least I can hope.

I also have to pay the bills today–always a joy–and probably should go back to the gym tonight. I’ve not been since Wednesday night–Friday was one of those horrible low-energy days where everything was sore and achy; going to Muses Thursday night, even briefly, was undoubtedly a mistake. And I also need to start digging out from under because I am so far behind now I don’t even know what’s what. I know I have a story due sometime in April that I need to start writing; I need to get caught up on my MWA stuff and the anthology I am editing; and I need to start a significant final revision edit of my book coming out in December. So first things first: make a to-do list, go through my notebooks and look through my notes about pending things that need addressing, and try to get my energy levels high and stop allowing myself to feel defeated before I even try.

And on that note, tis off to the spice mines with me. Have a lovely Ash Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will talk at you tomorrow.

No Matter What Sign You Are

Happy Mardi Gras! Everywhere else it’s just Tuesday.

It’s a beautiful day and I feel rested this morning. Granted, I’ve felt rested every morning for the last six or seven days upon arising only to run out of proverbial steam and become exhausted by the late afternoon–yesterday was another one of those; once I ran my errands and did my work I was burned out and worn out by five pm; there was no Orpheus for us last night–so we’ll see how things go today. Ukraine still seems to be standing this morning, which has been on my mind non-stop these last few days since the invasion started, and I really need to block that out. I’ve been thinking a lot these last few days about the other places in the world being visited by the horrors of war and oppression (the Uyghurs in China, Yemen) and how those stories aren’t (or weren’t) being covered with the same kind of blanket 24/7 reporting. That saddens me, as it does send the signal that Americans don’t care about Uyghurs or Yemenis, but do care about white Ukrainians.

Even when it comes to foreign policy, we can’t escape racism, can we?

Today is a day off, obviously and I am going to take full advantage of that. I am going to try to finish writing that story this morning–it’s been a struggle–and I am going to be productive and effective today; which means closing social media completely and only checking in periodically when I take a break from working. The house is a mess, filing needs to be done, and I am going to use today as an organizing/writing/get caught up day. I am going to not bother with emails this day because that is exhausting and I don’t want to get off track. I don’t hear either Zulu or Rex down at the corner–I’ll probably wander down there at some point–probably when I am barbecuing lunch–to get an idea of crowds and so forth.

Paul and I watched Toy Boy last night after he got home from work–I was actually half-dozing in my easy chair when he got home–and we have only two episodes left. It’s very strange and different this season from the last; there’s a new villain (and he is sexy as fuck) and the restructuring of the corrupt wealthy people who run the city in order to deal with this new threat has been interesting. Lots of sex and nudity, lots of male strippers in bikinis, but some also seriously strange side subplots that indicate that the producers and writers may not have a real idea of what they are doing. The gay couple from season one is hardly in this at all, and their relationship doesn’t make any sense this season at all; them meeting and falling in love while dealing with rejection and mental illness and disability was quite powerful in season one; this season they aren’t doing much of anything and are hardly in the show at all, which is disappointing.

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and while I am always sad to see Carnival end, this year was a bit bittersweet. I only went out to King Arthur to see friends; we went to Muses to get Paul’s shoe (mission accomplished) and I went to Iris on Saturday; a significant difference from our usual “out there every night” type parade season. But I never felt entirely comfortable out there in the crowds–it’s going to take a while before I stop thinking everyone is contagious–and of course, this year was a more difficult one for Paul with his events at the end of this new month; people having to cancel because of nervousness about traveling, etc. I always look forward every year for the festivals to be over–I worry about Paul’s long hours and stress levels–but I think this year more than any other year I really want to get to April intact. I tested myself for COVID this morning and I am not infected; I will test myself again tomorrow before I go into the office just to be certain, and probably will again this coming weekend. I always wear masks in public anyway, so even if I am contagious the odds of giving it to anyone else are decreased; and I wash my hands (or use hand sanitizer) a lot. But I will be really glad and happy once the threat has finally passed, you know? I don’t know if this is how we are going to be living from now on, or if work is going to continue to change or evolve or go back to what it was before the pandemic (which I rather doubt); everything is still uncertain, and uncertainty isn’t something humans–especially this one–cope with very well.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and get to work. Happy Mardi Gras, everyone!

The Young Folks

It’s a work at home Monday, and it’s also Lundi Gras. Orpheus rolls tonight, and tomorrow is the Mardi Gras holiday. Yesterday was one of those days that started with good intentions, but somehow exhaustion took over at some point and nothing got done. We did end up starting the second season of Toy Boy on Netflix–which is even more insane in its second season; you’ve got to hand it to Spanish Netflix–and I spent most of the day glued to my chair watching war coverage from Ukraine. While all of my sympathies are entirely with the Ukrainian people and their amazingly courageous president, at the same time I am disturbed by scenes from the border where white Ukrainians are being given priority to cross while non-whites are being held back. This doesn’t seem to be an issue with the country they would be crossing into, either–it’s Ukrainian border guards doing this.

But American exceptionalism and white supremacy weren’t born or created on this continent, it’s a disease the European colonizers brought with them, and it has flourished here ever since. It saddens me to see that even in a terrifying time such as this, with their cities under attack and the Russian military within their borders that Ukrainians can still perpetuate such behavior…although it’s really not all that surprising. I don’t know how bad or widespread the problem is; but I believe that it has happened at least on a small scale, and I hope once the situation is better there we can get to the bottom of what happened at the borders.

Today I have errands to get run, data to enter, emails to send and a short story to work on. We may go out for some of Orpheus tonight–it depends on how we feel, how the weather is, and numerous other factors are involved as well, but we’ll see. Orpheus is one of my favorites, and it will feel strange to not see it, but…it will depend on my energy levels, how cold it is, and how much of this story I get finished today. I also need to start editing my manuscript; that’s going to the top of the to-do list I am going to make today (I never got around to it yesterday–I told you I was in a malaise yesterday for some reason I cannot understand) and I am also going to start making notes on it. I think there’s a better way to tell the story–to get the reader involved sooner–and there are other things I need to strengthen in it as well. I have to get to work on the Bouchercon anthology this week, and there’s always MWA stuff to get done. But hopefully I can kick it into gear. I’ve not been eating a lot lately–I usually have been eating things in the morning and perhaps snacking later–and that has to change. A lot of that has to do with Paul’s insane schedule currently; I never know when he’s going to be home or if he is, whether or not he’ll want to eat or not and, as always with me and my eating issues, if I don’t eat when I am hungry the hunger fades and I wind up not eating. That. Has. To. Stop.

If for no other reason than I need to eat for energy.

I have had a bagel with cream cheese already this morning, and I also need to go through the refrigerator as I make a list for the grocery run to come this morning. I have some cheese-stuffed chicken breasts wrapped in bacon to make for tonight’s dinner, and tomorrow I will probably fire up the barbecue and make burgers. I also am feeling weirdly at sea the way I always do during the crank-up of parade season–disconnected from the world–because everywhere else everyone is going about their usual normal Monday while here…it’s an entirely different subject. It’s disquieting, to say the least, but it only lasts until Wednesday. And yes, we have a strangely truncated work week–Wednesday will feel like Monday; making it even more difficult for me to adjust to my new “in the office” schedule, which I still hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. Sigh.

Ah, reality.

And on that note, I am going to start digging through everything and getting my day going. Thanks for checking in, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.

The Rhythm of Life

It’s raining on Bacchus Sunday. I’ve not checked whether parades are being delayed or canceled or postponed–who knows? I’ve also not checked the weather forecast for the rest of the day. I literally got out of bed about half an hour ago, made a cup of coffee, and then went Internet searching to see if Ukraine was still holding onto their independence and sovereignty. (They are, thank the heavens.) I need to walk over to Walgreens in a moment–I am debating having another cup of coffee before going out into the chilly drizzle conditions out there–and then I probably won’t go back outside today. Paul and I have never really been much of the Sunday parade crowd; if anything, if the weather was nice we might go out for Bacchus. In the olden days, when we were younger and more apt to go partying every weekend, we’d walk up the parade route to the Quarter for Sunday tea dance, which inevitably turned into staying out much later than we’d planned and hangovers on Mondays–which was okay, because all I had to do work-wise on Mondays was go down to the Quarter and pass out condoms for four hours and walk home for Orpheus.

Funny how things change.

I have lots to do today–my priority is working on that short story, of course–and I need to make the to-do list I’ve been meaning to make for quite some time now. I’ll have to make an errand run at some point during the day tomorrow–mail and grocery store are definite musts; anything else can wait until Friday–and I’ve need to start making progress on the things on that to-do list. I also keep forgetting that the rest of the world isn’t experiencing Carnival; Lundi and Mardi Gras mean nothing to the rest of the world, who will be going about their usual Mondays and Tuesdays and everyone will be wondering why I am not answering emails or responding and…every year. Of course, Carnival was canceled last year which felt very weird–I think my lack of feeling connected to New Orleans has everything to do with the imposed isolation of the pandemic along with the lack of a Carnival in 2021; I didn’t get my annual reminder of how wonderful and fun and magical it is when the city all comes together every year for it.

Okay, so I walked over to the Walgreens and as such no longer have any need nor desire to leave the house for the rest of the day and I do think that is very wise on my part. It’s not raining now but it’s gray and the air is wet and heavy and chilly; there’s standing water and mud on the neutral ground and the wind is cold and damp. The sun may come out, but the damp chill in the air means more rain at some point in additio to the ground not drying out. There are a lot of people outside already–I’ve always been grateful to live in close proximity to the parade route so I never have to spend hours out there waiting (we call it “passin’ time” here) for the first floats to arrive–and the first parade won’t be here for hours yet. I do admire their persistence, determination, and commitment; but just standing out there for the parades wears me out, and having a place to sit wouldn’t make that much of a difference.

And now, I think I am going to go sit in my easy chair and read my what’s in my “to edit” file before getting cleaned up and getting to work on writing some things. Have a happy and safe Bacchus Sunday, y’all, and see you tomorrow on Lundi Gras.

Someday We’ll Be Together

Iris Saturday!

Not sure what the weather is like out there today. I actually allowed myself to sleep late this morning (it’s the weekend) and even attacked the potential of insomnia with full force: breathing strip on my nose, aromatherapy thing on with sleep formula sprinkled into the water, sleeping pill, NyQuil, melatonin, and Deep Sleep pillow spray from This Works! (It really, really does.) The end result was ten hours of beautiful, dreamless sleep and feeling rested this morning. I did feel tired most of yesterday, to be honest, and when the day-job work-at-home duties were completed for the day I was tired, bone-tired, and I never made the errand run yesterday–an indication of how tired I really was; we’re out of things with no way to really replenish supplies until Monday. But there’s the Walgreens on the corner (if I get there early enough in the day before the crowds descend on St. Charles Avenue–I should probably walk over there once I finish this) as a stopgap–or actually, I could go to day after Tucks, when the crowds move to Egalité Circle for Endymion. Come to think of it, I could actually move my car and go to the grocery store this evening….no, it can wait till Monday.

Life inside the parade route.

Despite being tired last night, I did write a short story in my head last night for this deadline on Monday, so I am going to try to get a draft written today so I can polish it and rewrite it over the next two days to make the deadline on Monday. It’s a longshot, anyway, but the pay is good and who knows, they may actually like my weird story about a séance being conducted by a fake psychic while a real one is also there and senses that someone at the table is planning a murder. I just wrote a story with this psychic (“The Rosary of Broken Promises”) and some of the other characters in the story are characters I’ve used in stories before–“An Arrow for Sebastian,” and the hostess also appeared in one of the Scotty books–Garden District Gothic, I think–but that also goes back to my “Greg’s New Orleans Multi-verse” theory from the other day. So, I did accomplish something last night, and I feel good about that.

You have to cherish every win, no matter how small. But now I have to physically write the thing.

Just start typing, Greg, and soon enough it will be finished.

And on that note I am going to do just that. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

He’s My Sunny Boy

Friday and working at home. I don’t have to return to the office until Wednesday. I don’t know if I am going to attend any of the parades tonight, but I will most definitely attend Iris tomorrow, and Orpheus on Monday. Sunday is a madhouse out on the corner, with four parades running and the last two (Thoth and Bacchus), so Paul and I will sometimes go out for the earlier ones–but it’s so crowded by the time Thoth comes down the avenue we can’t stand it so we come inside. It’s weird. I intellectually know that it’s probably not a good idea to go out there–no one masked, everyone drinking and in close proximity to each other–and if I get sick I have no one to blame but myself. I still go back and forth on it–there’s a pandemic! But it’s Carnival!–so I may end up not attending rather then severely curtailing my parade attendance (I certainly don’t ever want to get Bad Carnival Karma); we’ll see how it goes.

I did spend some time last night filing, cleaning and organizing so I don’t have to do any of that this weekend. I have a short story to finish by Tuesday, a thousand emails to answer, another thousand tp generate (you think I’m kidding; I quite literally am not) and I’d like to get the floors done. I also have to run some errands at some point today–mail and make groceries (not much, just to get through the rest of the weekend)–and I also don’t have to go back into the office until Ash Wednesday (thank you, Fat Tuesday paid holiday), so I am hoping to get caught up on all kinds of things that will help ease off the pressure I feel like I am constantly under. One of today’s chores is to make that updated to-do list I’ve been meaning to get written all week, and to try to gather all my scribbled notes and idea scattered over various notebooks and legal pads compiled into one place. Once I get this short story finished, I am going to start working on Chlorine again–the goal is to have a workable first draft by the end of March, fingers crossed–but it’s going to be a shorter book, fast-paced with machine-gun like word rhythms. I am also becoming more and more fond of my main character–a not particularly talented but incredibly hot and sexy closeted film actor, cynical about using his face and body to get ahead because he is really only out for himself…understandable, given the climate of the times and his backstory–and creating him is probably the most fun I’ve had creating a character since, well, Scotty.

But he ain’t nothing like my Scotty. At all.

I also need to start pulling together the various threads of Mississippi River Mischief together; figuring out the various subplots to gel around the main story of the book, and I also have to map out Redemption Parish a bit more than the amorphous bounds I’ve already given it. I think it first appeared in Murder in the Arts District–no, not entirely correct; it was where my story “Rougarou” was set, and I think that was my first time writing about Redemption Parish and the town of Bayou Shadows–and I know The Orion Mask was also set there. I should probably go through everything and make notes for the sake of continuity–ha ha ha, just checking to see if you’re asleep–but yes, I think I originally envisioned Redemption Parish as being further upriver than where I want it to be for this book; I’ll definitely have to recheck Arts District and The Orion Mask to get a better idea of what I wrote and where I placed it so I can figure out how to finagle moving it and how to justify it…but….this is a different series than Arts District, and Orion was a stand alone, so…I definitely can get away with moving the parish if I need to. (As much as I want my books to all be connected together in some amorphous way–a la Stephen King’s Maine–I can also look at Scotty and Chanse and every other New Orleans thing I’ve written as different universes, like a multi-verse; so I can use characters from across all the books as well as places, but it’s a different world.

I also tend to worry about things no one else notices in my work, so there’s that.

But it wouldn’t hurt me to start a reread of the Scotty series. I am having trouble focusing on reading these days–it comes and goes–and so why not reread the Scotty books? Why not spend some time putting together the ultimate Scotty Bible, so I have an easy reference to check things? This actually sounds like a good idea, and it’s been so damned long since I wrote the first books I probably wouldn’t even remember who the killer was…so it would almost be like reading something new? And it could help put me back into the Scotty mindset. (Also, for the record, Mississippi River Mischief is set in the spring after the Christmas of Royal Street Reveillon, which will make it spring 2019. The next Scotty will be Twelfth Night Knavery, set just after Christmas 2019–January 2020–followed by French Quarter Flambeaux (Mardi Gras 2020) and finally Quarter Quarantine Quadrille, April 2020. So, the plan is for there to be at least four more books in the series, if I live that long. But I also reserve the right to change my mind and discard any of these books along the way–but this is what I am currently thinking.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader.