Category: cats

The Streak

Tuesday morning and staring down a brand new day; the week is passing every so slowly but that’s fine, you know. I slept really well last night, but was kind of slow to waking up this morning. The coffee is going down pretty well so far, and I do feel rested this morning; much more awake than yesterday, but not lively as of yet. Yesterday was a nice day, if a very busy one at the office; I suspect that is going to be the case again today. I think I’ll just come straight home from work tonight. I didn’t do much of anything when I got home from work yesterday, other than finish watching Monsters before going to bed relatively early. The kitchen is a mess and disaster area, so I need to get that taken care of tonight when I get home; tomorrow I can do the mail and the grocery store if I need to. Fascinating, right?

I did manage to do very little writing last night–Chapter Six proving to be a bit more difficult than Five was–but that’s okay; I was tired and not really operating on all cylinders, either. I was horribly lazy, too. When I came downstairs this morning to the kitchen I was horrified that I left it like that overnight, knowing I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until after work tonight. The sink has dirty dishes and there’s stuff all over my counters. I didn’t even make the chicken salad, which I will absolutely have to do tonight. The refrigerator also needs to be organized. Sigh. And I’m sure there’s another load of laundry already, too. Heavy heaving sigh. This is why I need to get this shit completely done on the weekends.

I also didn’t do my daily German lesson yesterday, either, which is a total shame because I was on a rather long streak with it. Some of it is coming back to me, which makes the lessons somewhat easier; I remember a lot of vocabulary words–or they come back at least when I see them on the screen. Our plan is to go to Amsterdam and Germany at some point; I’d rather like to see Berlin and the German Museum where the stolen head of Queen Nefertiti–which belongs in Egypt–is currently housed. I don’t want to be fluent, but at least be able to speak somewhat coherently to the locals. So, definitely have to do it tonight, for sure.

I also discovered something chilling about my last name yesterday–I may have been aware but my mind had forgotten–but the Nazi Master Race theory? Die herrenvolk. Yikes. I’ve always assumed herren meant men–it’s on every men’s room door in Germany, Austria and Switzerland–but it also means lord…as well as master. Double yikes. It was definitely unsettling to be slapped in the face with a reminder (if I knew it once) of what herrenvolk means….triple yikes and gross.

I also didn’t get to read last night. I managed about six or seven hundred words written on the book, and Sparky really wanted me in my easy chair–he’s always super needy on Mondays after having us both home all weekend, and was climbing me while I fed him–so I obliged. He’s such a sweet baby, and he was in bed with me again this morning when I hit snooze for the first time. He’s not as docile as Scooter, and isn’t nearly as manipulative as Skittle was, but he’s a sweet baby doofus who’s gradually getting more calm than he was when we first got him. And I love how he’s always waiting at the door when I get home–he hears the gate close. Paul says he’ll be upstairs asleep on the bed and will suddenly pop up, jump down and run down the stairs…and he knows it means I’ll be coming through the front door in a moment or two. He still likes to ride on my shoulders, too.

It does look as if that tropical system off the Yucatan is going to form and head for the Florida panhandle, as there’s a cold front coming in from Texas to Louisiana which will push it that direction–which of course is always subject to change right up until the eye wall comes ashore. It’s projected to be arriving sometime Thursday afternoon. I wish everyone on the panhandle and in the path of said storm luck and a speedy recovery from the destruction, which will be minimal, fingers crossed.

I enjoyed Monsters, and so did Paul. He doesn’t really remember the Menendez case as well as I do–of course, back then I was a potential crime writer, so all big crimes interested me for a while until there was so much coverage I got sick of the cases. I honestly don’t remember the incest stuff, which apparently the real brothers are really bothered by; but I also had that sense when it was going on from somewhere, that there was incest beyond the paternal molestation and rape, and according to the show, Erik testified to molesting his brother with a toothbrush? One of the final episodes is more focused on Dominick Dunne, and frankly, I’d love to see a series where Nathan Lane plays Dunne; he deserves an Emmy for that episode alone. I’m going to think about the show a bit more before writing about it, of course–it needs digesting–but the acting was top notch, as almost always in a Murphy series; the actors playing the leads are very impressive…and will probably be seen in a lot of Murphy shows as he likes to work with the same people over and over again.

And on that note, I’m heading into the spice mines. I do have a ZOOM meeting tonight at 6, and will be trying to clean the kitchen before that gets started. I may be back later, I’m never really sure how that goes, you know? If not, I will see you on the morrow, Constant Reader.

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Please Don’t Tell Me How The Story Ends

And now it’s Saturday, and I feel pretty good this morning. There’s lots to do, of course, before the LSU game at 2:30 today; dishes to put away and filing, a couple of errands to run, and of course, as always, cleaning. After work yesterday and running the errands–including Costco–I was very tired when I got home. I wasn’t very energetic yesterday as it was–I could tell the low energy from Thursday had carried over–and it was hard enough putting away the Costco purchases when we got back from that. We also started watching Agatha All Along (more on that later) before going to bed. I slept really well, which was nice, and now I am hoping to get some things done today. I want to finish entering the notes from the marked-up Scotty books into the Bible this weekend, and I also want to mark up the last two so I can get that part of it finished before going through it all and organizing it. I also want to write tomorrow before the Saints game. I also have to make groceries tomorrow morning, but I am going to try to get up fairly early (like today, Sparky got me up at seven) so I can get that done early so I can write some more tomorrow. I also want to do some reading this weekend. I’m really enjoying Jordan Harper’s Everybody Knows–he has a terrific writing style and authorial voice–and it would be great to finish reading it this weekend so I can move on to my reread of We Have Always Lived in the Castle to prep for Halloween Horror Month.

I also need to check the to-do list. I do want to wash the car this weekend, too–perhaps I can get that done this morning if I time everything correctly and I don’t laze around this morning–always a problem. I have any number of other entries I’d also like to get finished at some point–especially two book reviews of recent reads I enjoyed a lot–and I haven’t done a newsletter on Substack for two weeks now, so I am a bit overdue there, too. Heavy heaving sigh, and there’s some emails to answer as well. But…things will get done when they get done, and I don’t really berate myself (or feel like a loser) when I don’t get things done. There’s an essay (which would fit into the ‘my gay life’ essays) I want to get done about jockstraps, of all things; jockstraps are definitely a gay fetish object, they turned 150 years old a few weeks ago, and there’s a piece on them in The Advocate I want to read for background purposes. I cannot speak to why they are such objects of eroticization for so many gay men, although I suspect it has a lot to do with junior/senior high school locker rooms, gym classes, and sports. There’s also some other topics I want to address, but there’s only so much time in a day, isn’t there? Like I want to finish this, get another cup of coffee, and go sit in the living room and read for a while rather than doing anything else on the computer.

There’s also a system in the Gulf near the Yucatan that may organize into another tropical storm–same place where Francine got her act together–that I need to keep a wary eye on, and there are two more crossing the Atlantic, too. Heavy heaving sigh. But at least the heat has broken into something bearable–maybe not for people who don’t like warm weather, we’re so acclimated here that what we consider ‘bearable’ would be miserable for other people. Likewise, people from elsewhere are often excited when the weather gets back up to the fifties and sixties, which is literally winter down here.

I was also rather thrilled because they had one of my extravagances at Costco yesterday, Clearly Canadian flavored sparkling water. I generally get individual bottles at the Fresh Market for about three dollars not on sale, and yesterday they had a box of twelve for $11.99! You best bet that box went right into the cart, and I am now hoping they will always have it. I do miss my mozzarella salad, or those bacon wrapped chicken breasts stuffed with cheese that they never seem to have any more, but the Clearly Canadian was an absolute score–and I don’t mind having to get three of my least favorite flavor (cherry) to get nine bottles of flavors I like. I really miss the green apple, though–that was my favorite.

I also dipped into this new season of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which I only began watching last season, and wow, is this show off the chain or what? This season the insanity begins in the very first episode, and it looks like this entire season is going to be insane. Hurray!

All right, I need another cup of coffee and something to eat so I can get this day underway. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I may or may not be back a little later; one never truly knows, does on?

Back Home Again

It is very lovely to be here at my desk this morning, with my coffee and Sparky begging for more food, knowing I don’t have to go into the office today. The work-at-home duties today are tedious, but hopefully they will make that time go back more quickly. I was very tired yesterday–I felt great in the morning, but as the day started to pass by I felt fatigue settling in and a feeling of not feeling terribly motivated, which is shameful, so when I got home last night I made myself transcribe the notes from three Scotty volumes into the Bible, and I only have maybe four or five left to go? Light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, quite frankly, and of course once it’s completed it’ll have to be updated. I have lots of errands to run later, after I finish my work-at-home duties, including a Costco run, which will probably wear me out a bit the way it always does.

We started watching Monsters, about the Menendez Brothers, and I’m not entirely sure we’ll continue to watch. I know the story fairly well, even if I may have forgotten a lot of it, because I followed the story as it happened. I also read all of Dominick Dunne’s columns in Vanity Fair back in the day–it was my favorite part of the issue, every month–so..it didn’t really engage me all that much. American Sports Story is kind of on deck (along with Agatha All Along), and there are some other things I’d like to watch dropping either soon, or have already, too. And of course it’s a football weekend; LSU-UCLA being the marquee game of the afternoon. There was also a lot of insane news breaking yesterday–not the least of which was that North Carolina jackass hate-monger’s exposure as a porn addict and a real insane freaky man. It’s exhausting. I’ve also taken the Bluesky/Threads methodology of “block at first sign of annoyance” to Facebook1. It’s much easier to block people than to indulge their idiocies and passive micro-aggressions. For the record, the people that think we shouldn’t allow politics to interfere with relationships? Tell me you’re a straight white cisgender person without saying the fucking words. Fuck you and all your descendants, now and forever, for all eternity. And I don’t owe anyone my friendship or affection, thank you very much.

I do have some plans for the weekend–around the games, of course (Saints at noon on Sunday)–I am going to have to make groceries again this weekend, and the apartment is a disaster area (but not as bad as usual on a Friday morning); I have dishes and filing to do, and of course there’s always laundry. I’m a little worn down this morning, but I’m hoping that will change once I’ve had more coffee and eaten something. The Internet is also out for some reason–this has been happening a lot ever since Francine; it’s annoying as fuck. I’m using my phone as a hotspot so far this morning and I’m really sick of Cox’ incredibly shitty service, which is getting less and less reliable. Every time I think maybe I should ditch the streaming and go back to regular cable, something like this reminds me why I’d really not have all eggs in Cox’ fucking basket.

Ah, remember the extolling virtues of the Internet and streaming back when it was first getting started, about how much better our lives would be now? As always, no one ever answered my questions of how reliable will it be? My personal favorite is everything you have to do with Cox pretty much requires an Internet connection…how can you reset your modem on-line when you can’t get on-line? All the instructions and so forth are on their website, and yes, sure, I can do it all on my phone but I shouldn’t have to. Bastards, really.

Wow, this is not only dull, but taking a really long time for me to get finished and posted. I must be running on accessory this morning, with my energy levels not quite reaching optimization. Man, I was tired when I got home last night–I stopped to get the mail and a few things at the grocery on the way home and didn’t even finish putting everything away, let alone finishing the dishes or doing anything else. Heavy sigh, but probably will get going once I have something to eat. I did eat jelly beans last night (yes, I succumbed to their allure while at the grocery last night) so maybe it’s a sugar crash. It’s possible, and i really do need to stop eating (and bingeing) jelly beans.

I did make a to-do list yesterday, and I need to make a Costco one today. I also need to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines, so I’ll bring this dullness to a close and get going with my work-at-home day. Till I return again, adieu.

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  1. Blockity blockity block block. If you annoy me once, you’ll probably do so more times and each offense is progressively worse than the last, always. Bitch, bye. ↩︎

Ride ’em Cowboy

Well, here we are on Wednesday morning, and I’m awake and feeling okay, if a bit on the sneezy side. My coffee is wonderful and delightfully tasty. The humidity and heat aren’t as bad as they have been, which I am hoping means we are easing into fall–summer is over “officially” on the 21st, which is of course next week, but New Orleans weather doesn’t really follow the calendar three-months per season the way that weather does further north from here. I don’t mind the cooler weather (fall and spring are spectacular here), but we get a bit chilly here in the winter and am always grateful it doesn’t really last very long. It’ll probably snow this year/

I had a nice day at work yesterday, fairly productive all along and managed to get shit done, which is always a plus. I came straight home from work, fed His Majesty and wrote for awhile before collapsing into my chair for Sparky cuddle time, which is lasting longer and longer these days, with fewer moments of him turning into Apex Predator Attack Cat. He really is a dear, and I don’t mind the “attack cat” mode because he’s so cute, and I love it when he pounces because he always seems so proud of himself when he does. And is there anything like having a cat cuddled up to you, sleeping soundly, secure and safe? I do worry that he doesn’t seem to purr all that much–he usually only does when he’s feeling super-needy, or when he’s riding on my shoulders. He does love it up there.

Yeah, I am a childless cat dad for the Vice-President, and fucking proud of it.

I also managed to get 1600 words done last night fairly easily, which was nice, so I am now done with the transitional Chapter 5, which is an enormous relief and also nice to know I can take some down time whenever there’s some kind of interruption (hurricane, in this case) and get back into the book. I think working on the Bible when I couldn’t wrap my head around writing the book was a definite help and kept my head in the game. It’s kind of funny, really. I try to write 3000 words per day (on a writing day; I don’t work on the book every day), and it always seems like the first thousand takes so much longer than the last two, you know? It’s like pulling teeth, but once I get to a thousand, it gets easier. The last thousand is always the easiest, somehow, which is cool. I’d hoped to have the first draft finished by the end of the month, but that is certainly not going to happen. But again–no deadline, which is kind of heavenly, and I kind of like the lack of pressure. It all needs to be revised and rewritten, of course, but I know I am writing some sentences that are making me very pleased with myself–something I am embracing with both arms wide, frankly. My self-doubt and lack of faith in myself has been incredibly self-defeating, so I’ve decided to work on that as well. I don’t want to become an egomaniac, of course, but I also need to stop believing or anticipating criticism and trying to head it off by saying it about myself first. I don’t like every book I’ve read and there are definitely authors I will never read again, so it stands to reason that that would be true about me and my books for some people, and it’s okay for them to feel that way. I appreciate good criticism, the kind that makes me look at it from a different perspective and determine whether I accept said criticism or not; what I don’t appreciate is slams for being too gay or too political or not gay enough or not political enough; you cannot please everyone who reads your work, and you’ll go mad trying to do that, as it’s impossible. I also need to understand that I have no control over my sales, and low sales doesn’t mean the book isn’t any good nor is the writing (two of my favorite books of my own–for personal reasons–are also my two lowest selling, and some of the ones I am super proud of aren’t my biggest sellers, either). Part of the problem, of course, is my anxiety-based fear of not being liked–which comes from years of betrayals by people I thought were friends (but they weren’t) and my own naïveté; I always take people at face value and forget that people wear masks to fool others into thinking they’re decent human beings. I’m always afraid I am going to be ganged up on by bullies similar to the ones who made teens so fucking miserable, that I’ll be ostracized by a friend group because I’ve never really gotten over that first betrayal. But while I do think that fear is valid–it was definitely earned, for sure–it’s something I need to work through on my own and conquer. I don’t trust as easily as I used to, but I’ve become keenly aware over the years that just because someone seems nice and fun doesn’t mean they actually are.

But…I’ve often been amazed when people I really dislike considers me a friend. I may be polite, but if I never actually laugh or make a joke when I’m talking to you–I don’t like you.

And if you have a single bigoted thought in your head that is rooted in race, gender, or sexuality–you can be sure I don’t like you.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in again either later or tomorrow morning.

Rub It In

Saturday morning of this disrupted and off-track week. I went to the office yesterday and did walk-in testing, primarily because I’d already been home for two days getting paid and didn’t really think it was right to then work-at-home on Friday, too. But it has thrown my routine off, just as the hurricane did, because now my days are all messed up. LSU plays at eleven this morning, which means I should make a grocery run this morning before the game starts, but I also slept late and am not really sure if I have the energy to do so before the game starts. There are also good games on for the majority of the day–which will make that trip even trickier to do later, so i really do need to get to the Fresh Market before hand. Sigh. I didn’t do much when I got home from work, either, as I was very tired; mostly watched the news and cuddled with Sparky until Paul got home–late–and then I went to bed shortly after.

I also have to go to make groceries tomorrow, too. Sigh. The run to the Fresh Market is to get some fresh meat and shrimp for the weekend. I want to barbecue burgers today–a college football Saturday thing–and shrimp scampi or maybe even shrimp creole for tomorrow night. But I need to clean this goddamned godforsaken kitchen first. I have a sink full of dishes that I’ve just let sit there all week (we were supposed to use water sparingly after the storm, because the sewers were full of water already) and of course, now it’s going to be a major undertaking. I let the entire house slide this week, which is shameful. I’m going to work more on the Scotty Bible today while I watch games, try to read some more of Everybody Knows (which is fantastic), and try to pick up around here. Next week isn’t going to be an easy one, as my supervisor will be out at a conference (which basically means everyone will come to me with questions and concerns) so it will be a lot more hectic. Sigh. I have so much to do! I guess today I’ll go ahead and make a to-do list today before I start working on the house.

Ah, there’s the coffee kicking in at last! I was getting worried as I was feeling a bit groggy still, and thought ugh is this going to be a tired day? I fell asleep in the afternoon one day this past week, during the storm days, which was wild, but hurricane fatigue is a thing. Yeah, running over to Fresh Market after finishing this and getting a bit cleaned up before the game is definitely do-able. I want to seriously clean off my desk and organize this area a bit–the great thing is I can play whatever game I’m watching on the computer while I am in the kitchen, which is very cool (something I always forget–that my desktop AND laptop are also television screens).

I also want to get some progress made on the book this weekend. I’m sure the Saints are playing tomorrow, plus the grocery trip (I may go to the West Bank, now that they’re finished installing the lights on the bridge, and may even treat myself to Sonic while I am over there), so the window for writing tomorrow could be a little tight. It’s always hard to write on the weekends during football season! But I’ll get it done. It really is impossible to be able to focus completely to write when there’s a storm on its way, or even immediately after. But the positive is the book itself is set during a storm, and now I have fresh memories of time-lines, what it’s like outside, and the tension. No matter how much you try to relax, you’re always on edge because you never can be certain the roof isn’t going to come off or there won’t be a tornado or the wind won’t pick up a tree and deposit it on your house–sometimes hurricane winds can rip the facade off a house, too. I also need to do some brainstorming on the rest of the book. I’ve got some ideas about how to write the rest, but the primary trick is going to be not using anything that can slow the narrative down–like over-explaining (what I call “filler”), because it really does need to keep moving.

And see? After a tropical weather break, I am getting right back into it again. Huzzah!

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines and get that grocery run out of the way…and perhaps start on cleaning up this kitchen, too. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader; I doubt I’ll be back today but you never know. GEAUX TIGERS!

Eve of Destruction

Good morning to you, Constant Reader. Here we are on Saturday, after another rainy day and work-at-home duties. It is still raining this morning. I can see why it starts to get on people after a few days, but not me. I love it. I am up super early this morning again–I got up at six thirty (!!)–for the second day in a row that I didn’t have to, but I find I like getting up early when I don’t have to so I can get more stuff done, you know? It was great getting all my work stuff done early yesterday so I could run my errands and work on the house and so on, which I did go ahead and do. My eye appointment isn’t today, but I rescheduled it anyway for the first weekend in October.

I did start working on the Scotty Bible yesterday, which was very cool. I feel like progress is being made, you know? Paul was at the office for meetings and to finish a grant, so Sparky and I had a lovely time hanging out. I also started pulling together a cast list for the new book, and started working on the outline. I also figured out how to do the prologue, which I usually do when the book is done, and I have a great opening line to parody. As I was moving stuff around on my desk while cleaning, I pulled out my copy of Collected Stories of William Faulkner, and of course there was a place-holder marking the page where “A Rose for Emily” begins. I know, it’s not very original, but “A Rose for Emily” is one of my favorite short stories of all time, but its brilliant macabre twists and turns are absolute genius, and of course, Faulkner was a genius. Hard to navigate sometimes, but a genius none-the-less. I may reread it to dissect it again, but every small Southern town had a Miss Emily, back in the day. “I have no taxes in Jefferson” is such a great line.

I did read some non-fiction yesterday. I received a book called The Price: What It Takes to Win in College Football’s Era of Chaos by Armen Keteyian and John Talty and it’s interesting. It covers the 2023 football season, with all the conference realignments, NIL deals and money, and so on. The nice thing about it is every chapter is about a different coach or team or aspect of the “chaos”, so it doesn’t have to be read in order. I read the chapters about Nick Saban and Jim Harbaugh yesterday, as well as the one about the collapse of Jimbo Fisher’s career at Texas A&M. I’m keeping an open mind–my mantra being “change isn’t bad’–about it, but I’m watching college football with a wary eye this year; all the changes and this multi team play-off (the irony that the team that’s royal screwing last year emphasized the need for this has now lost two games already this early doesn’t escape me. They could of course run the table–look at what happened to Clemson already, too–the two powerhouses of the ACC.) But it’s a long season, and everyone counted Alabama out early last year after they lost to Texas, and they did just that–ran the table and went to the play-offs.

When I was running my errands yesterday, I had my first “understand the assignment” experience with a total stranger! I had stopped to get the mail, and of course, it was raining. So I dashed through the rain into the postal service, grabbed my mail, and ran back across the street to where I was parked. As I got into the car, I noticed Harris/Walz signs all over the iron gate of the house next door. I smiled, and decided to take a picture of it once I was safely in my car. I rolled down the window, but the gate started to open and a car pulled in. The woman got out, saw me taking a picture of her gate, and I yelled “love your signs” and gave her a thumbs-up (she also had them on her car) and we yelled it together at the same time: “I understand the assignment!” and we both laughed. As I drove off, I noticed the entire block had Harris/Walz signs, and I started noticing them on cars around the city yesterday, too. Usually all I’ve seen has been Trump decals and stickers all over those “I have a small penis so I need a massive truck” vehicles, but I also know those people aren’t from New Orleans. I mean it when I say I live in a blue dot in a red sea–New Orleans doesn’t play with that sort of thing. New Orleans is so fucking blue it’s almost black, kind of like the dark blue velvet of a cloudless midnight sky on the full moon. Think I’m kidding? Did Hillary get 81% and Biden 83% of the vote in your blue city? WHen we had more population, combining with the other blue dots in the state, New Orleans could swing a statewide election to the Democratic Party; it’s how Mary Landrieu was elected to the Senate twice here,…until she committed the colossal sin of agreeing with and backing our first Black president. The racists replaced her with Bill Cassidy1, that mental giant, because New Orleans didn’t have the electoral power in the state it enjoyed before Katrina–and don’t tell me that part of the response to Katrina wasn’t what it was because Karl Rove wanted to break the Democratic Party in Louisiana, and what better way than to traumatize and break up a solid block of voters? It’s never really recovered, either. That’s why we have those morons Cassidy and Kennedy in the Senate embarrassing us on a daily basis, and why we have a Project 2025 governor now.

The city will turn out for the Vice-President. The rest of the state may be as red as the old USSR flag2, but New Orleans thumbs its nose at their politics of division, hate, and Christian white supremacy. It’s why the rest of the state hates us, that plus we’re a majority Black city. It’s why the racists in the rest of the state are always whining about the crime in New Orleans and how ‘scary’ and ‘dangerous’ the city is; dog whistles, of course. I am white and I have lived here for almost thirty years, and yes, while we have been the victims of a violent crime committed by homophobes from outside of New Orleans, neither one of us ever feels fear here.

And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and I am going to read for a little while before I get cleaned up and going on my day. Hope you have a great Saturday, Constant Reader; I’ll have the television on in the background during games today. I don’t think LSU’s game tonight is even televised? No big deal, really.

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  1. Thanks again, Louisiana racists. ↩︎
  2. A very deliberate choice for that image, since it appears that Russia has owned the Right in this country for quite some time now. ↩︎

Hang on Sloopy

Work at home Friday! I have a meeting at ten and then I get to do work-at-home duties for a few hours before I can end my work day and dive back into working on the book. I am having to be a bit more careful this time, as my memory isn’t as good as it used to be and I have been making this up as I go so far, so there are no notes for me to look at and think ah yes, the nurse’s name was this or Aunt Del’s second husband’s last name was NOT Alencon, so last night I reread the first four chapters of this masterpiece in progress and wasn’t disgusted, appalled and/or embarrassed at the terrible writing. (It is excruciatingly awful.) But I was writing down the names of the characters and who they are so I can start constructing back stories as well as who they are, and that will lead to more story and more characters. I also have to synopsize and outline those chapters as well…which also made me realize I have to look up the names of Scotty’s parents and grandparents, which means going through the books, which means…I should just start rereading them and pulling together the Scotty Bible at long last. That is my plan for this weekend; to work on pulling together information that is necessary out of the previous volumes and revising the current chapters. I am also really proud of myself for recognizing this work is necessary to make writing the rest easier and fix the mistakes in these early chapters.

I am also up way earlier than I need to be, but I woke up at six. Sparky actually was sleeping with me this morning when I woke up, which is progress on the cuddling front. I woke up at six, and was awake so figured might as well stay up if I am already, you know? My coffee is good and I am a little groggy, but taking a shower once I finish writing this will help with that, and I can get started on my work-at-home duties and be free earlier, which is really nice,..and I can use this afternoon to catch up on chores and get started on the Scotty Bible, which is cool and exciting. Should I be this excited to be writing another Scotty? I don’t know if it’s the writing Scotty that has me so high or if it’s just writing in general? I also don’t have a contract yet, so they may not even want it. But that’s not anything to worry about right now, either. I am just going to stay laser-focused on writing. The apartment isn’t that bad this morning, really. Tomorrow I have an eye appointment to get a new prescription so I can order new glasses, but other than that and college football, there’s really not much going on for us around here. I do want to watch The Deliverance this weekend. So many possibilities!

Our wretched governor this week asked LSU to start bringing Mike the Tiger back into the stadium for football games this season. I do love that tiger (I even made him the focal point of one of my Scotty books), he is stunningly beautiful, and I remember the year they decided to stop bringing Mike into the stadium. (This was the previous Mike.) The rule always was they wouldn’t sedate him and if he refused to get in the trailer, they wouldn’t try to make him. Previous Mike that entire year refused, and so…no Mike. It was disappointing to me the few games I went to that year–Mike’s entrance into the stadium was always one of my favorite parts of the game. The next year, they decided not to try, and I also think the veterinary school also realized that bringing him into the stadium is probably not the best thing for a tiger. There’s a lot of people, a lot of noise, and if he gets upset or irritated or anxious during a game, there’s no getting him out of the stadium again until half-time or the game ends–and what if the fans rush the field? He’s secure in his trailer, of course, but why upset a big animal who was rescued from a bad situation who’s finally getting used to being taken care of and spoiled? I myself began to realize, the longer more time passed and there was no tiger in the stadium, I rethought the whole thing. Whether there should be a wild animal habitat on campus or not is an entirely different argument, and one I am undecided about the right answer, and know that my reluctance to say its not good has a lot to do with my affection for that tiger.

I’ve also begun to really understand two things about college football (and life for that matter) is that when someone talks about tradition, they’re just saying “we’ve always done it this way” and change is scary; and a lot of the time tradition is what keeps problems festering for decades.

I also think the Governor making demands of our flagship university is not good for the school or the state. If you want to interfere with LSU, Governor Landry, why don’t you pump some more money into the school? Cut tuition? Repair or replace some of the crumbling buildings on campus? No, his only interest in LSU is the athletic teams and showing how powerful he is. He clearly doesn’t give a shit about education in Louisiana, especially if he actually believes having the Ten Commandments displayed in every classroom in the state will improve somehow our educational system…when what it actually is another form of the right’s “thoughts and prayers” bullshit they trot out whenever they try to force us to believe their corrupted faith and think that holy bandage they stick on the problem will make things better somehow.

Leaving things to God’s will is an abdication of morality and responsibility; the proverbial “Pilate washing his hands”. And is that what we need leading the state?

I am beginning to remember that the reason I try not to follow state politics more closely than I do is because it leads to fucking despair.

Right-wing media (which is apparently bought and paid for by the Kremlin) have been trying to hide their overt racism lately by using code, what is more commonly known as “dog whistles.” The latest is this “the Vice-President is a phony because she talks differently to different people”, which basically means “straight white people don’t do this so there must be some nefariously horrible reason for this.” No, douchebags, it’s more of a protective coloring, like chameleons, that marginalized people all develop because straight white people can be so fucking awful. One example of this is my parents had very pronounced rural Alabama accents, which began to fade over the years after they left, but it’s still there. Paul used to always love when I talked to my parents on the phone because my own accent comes out, and it would usually take about an hour or so for me to get back to the way I normally talk. I learned how to speak with an accent, which I also quickly learned to disguise in elementary school because it was very clear to me that the way I spoke made people assume I was stupid. It’s not just my family, either, that triggers my accent; whenever I speak to anyone who has one mine comes back out–my brain is coded that other people with Southern accents are safe. Likewise, hard as it is to believe but I also tone myself down when I’m around a majority of straight people I don’t know. This is why gay bars were so important for so long–after a week of coding myself as either “less gay” or “blend in don’t bring attention to yourself”, going to a gay bar where I could completely be myself without worry of losing either my job or being attacked was an enormous release, and I know I’m not the only gay man who saw the bars as a conduit to community and safety. That’s why it kind of bothers me that straight people come to gay bars and hang out because the vibe is so different than straight bars; their presence makes the safe space not as safe, and sometimes it makes them uncomfortable to be a minority and they act out. I suppose it’s kinder to say “straight people need to be more respectful of queer safe spaces.” That’s always been a problem, and really–bachelorette bridal parties need to stay out of gay bars because drunk straight white girls can be the absolute fucking worst.

And don’t come to our bars for entertainment if you don’t support our equality.

Yes, ladies, you’re super-cool for making asses out of yourself in queer bars, and oh so tolerant for gifting us and our spaces with your presence. I know that things have changed since I was younger, and the younger queer generations aren’t so rigid about separating their lives because they don’t have to, and I am all for that. Straight kids and queer kids absolutely should be friends, should hang out, and the sexuality thing shouldn’t make a difference, which is what we’ve always said. Younger generations don’t need that safe space as much, at least in the cities, the way we used to need it. I haven’t set foot in a gay bar in years, so maybe the entire culture has changed, and again, this is how things used to be is not a compelling argument against change. Maybe I’m just that old man who’s out of step with the young ones these days, and I do catch myself all the time questioning things I’ve always thought and believed and are reflexive; I’ve spent a lot of time the last few years sorting things out in my head, and seeing things with the clarity distance provides.

I was wrong about so many things. I blame public education, for teaching me American Mythology instead of US History.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later. Thanks for checking in!

Yes, I’m Ready

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week before work-at-home Friday; huzzah! It rained most of the day yesterday. We are in flood watch until Saturday morning, I believe; anyway, it’s going to be almost constant raining for the next few days, which I love. I love rain, and I write about rain an awful lot, especially here in New Orleans. God, we have the best thunderstorms here. Yes, I know, it’s not so awesome for folks who get water in their houses or their cars flooded and totaled by water damage, and I hate that for people (it happened to me once, but my car was able to be salvaged, although it never ran correctly again; the flooding was the beginning of the car’s slow death). But I like being inside while it rains outside, I love the way it gets cooler and the damp in the air is weirdly biting and comforting at the same time inside. I’m also writing a book that takes place during a big storm, so yes, I am writing rain again.

But I’m writing! I ran errands after work yesterday, gave Sparky treats and dinner, and plopped the old butt down and banged out 2100 words. Transitional chapter, which I always hate to write and always think they suck when I am writing them, but got it done and out of the way. Woo-hoo! Go, Greg, go! It does feel good when I write, and my mood does seem to improve and I get more things done than I usually do when I am not writing. I think it’s because I know I want to write but I can’t let things slide during the week if I want to take the weekend off from writing, which is the goal–or at least, not writing the book on the weekend. Tomorrow night I need to outline and synopsize the first four chapters, as well as nail down character names and list them–so I can develop those characters more to make the story stronger. I love the challenge I’m presenting to myself with this book in trying to do what I want to do with it, which is also a lot of fun. I do also need to do some more research on some other things I want to put in the book–and I also think I can plant the seeds for the next one during the story of this one, which I love. Or perhaps–ooooh, interesting–a three book overall arc to play out along with the plot of the current case? That could be fun, too. I love this part of writing a book; all the possibilities and things that may or may not work, the things and situations I set up that have to be explained so I have to figure it out. I don’t know, really, if people read the Scotty series because they like the characters and want to see what they’re up to, or if they like the plots, or maybe both? I’m usually just grateful people read them at all, honestly. Everything else is just gravy.

Yesterday was also a good day at the office. I helped some people, saw my appointments, and got things done, which is always nice. I also got tired a bit, but I also ate my lunch late and once I did, I felt very much better and more energized. The drive across town to get the mail wasn’t awful; they actually fixed the lights at the Louisiana and Toledano intersections (in a row, a few blocks apart; fun when the lights are blinking and they have been for a very very long time), which made the trip go much easier as there was no four-way stop and go nonsense, and when there are neutral grounds involved, New Orleans drivers–never the most trustworthy–have no idea what to do. I got across town, on a rainy day with some slight flooding, across town and then back home in half an hour, which was remarkable time. Very little traffic; perhaps many people stayed home from work for fear of flooding. But I was in a pretty good mood when I got home. Two books arrived at the service; a non-fiction book about the 2023 season of college football, and my friend Ellen Byron’s latest in her Cookbook Shop series, French Quarter Fright Night, which is one of my favorite series. My God, so many good books in my TBR pile! I’ve just got to make time to read more! It is one of my favorite things to do, and always has been.

The rain is supposed to start today around the time I leave for work, which should be very fun and exciting. I slept well last night, too. I feel very rested and awake this morning, which is great–but strange again; why am I feeling better on Thursday than I did on Tuesday morning? I don’t think I must have slept well on Monday night, because I was so tired after work on Tuesday night, and yet…here I am, feeling good and rested again this morning. Bizarre.

I’m glad the weekend is almost here, though. I don’t mind going to work, really, other than having to get up so early every morning, and how many people can say that? I probably make it sound like I don’t like my job, but I really only resent having to get up in the morning rather than waking up organically. I hate alarms.

And on that note, I am going to get ready to head into the spice mines. May your Thursday be as marvelous as you, Constant Reader, and thank you for being here.

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What’s New Pussycat?

I can tell you what right now: Sparky wants treats! Nothing new there, of course, but to him it’s what he needs to start his day of being Apex Predator of the Lost Apartment, where no pen or bottle cap is safe, and he does his part to declutter by knocking everything to the floor. He really is a doll. I just wish he liked to cuddle more in the bed. He’ll sleep and cuddle with me in my easy chair–I think this imprinted on him after my surgery, when I slept in the chair for at least two weeks–but other than that? Nope. Even if you take him to the bed and curl up with him, he’ll wiggle out and go under the bed to protect us from whatever might come down the (blocked off) chimney. It was funny yesterday; I’d forgotten to reset the alarm (I’d set it to seven for Monday and forget to reset it back to six Monday night when I went to bed), but I woke up at five, knew what I’d done, and just kept waking up every twenty minutes or so. I finally got up without the alarm yesterday at six, and Sparky was so sound asleep he didn’t hear me get up! I was already downstairs, had cleaned my teeth and washed my face and was brewing coffee when he sleepily staggered into the kitchen with his eyes half-closed, and chirped half-heartedly.

Trust me, Sparky, I know the feeling well.

I was tired last night after work and making groceries, so I collapsed into my easy chair after writing over 900 words. It was a struggle to get those 900 words down, too, but it didn’t trigger one of those oh my God I can’t make the word count for the day and does this mean I am never going to be able to write again and I am going to be behind! You know what? It’s not the fucking end of the world. I wrote 2000 Monday and 900 yesterday. I’ve done over ten thousand since I started a week ago Sunday. Paul was also late getting home, so Sparky and I hung out in my easy chair and I watched the news before reading another magazine from the stack of them here at my desk. Once Paul was home, we watched the US Open for a while before I had to go to bed. It’s very exciting to have two US men in the semi-finals, which means an American in the finals for the first time in a very long time, which is kind of exciting.

We’re in a flash flood warning for the rest of the week (!) as we are supposed to get up to eight inches of rain or more over the next few days. The weekend is supposed to be neither super-hot or excessively humid and will “feel like” fall–so that could mean anything, really. 60s thru 80s, or somesuch. LSU plays Nicholls this weekend, which I am not wild about watching. They’ll either win by a lot and with ease, which is boring to watch (and I inevitably feel bad for the other team) or it’s disappointing because LSU played badly. I’ll probably give in and watch, but will read while I do. I feel pretty good this morning–it was a bit of a struggle to get up, frankly–but it should be a good day as the coffee is kicking in and I am feeling more awake with every moment.

I hope to finish the chapter I started yesterday today; I am having fun with the book even if it is more complicated and tricky than usual (I am trying something challenging); and I am hoping the more I am able to flex my writing muscles and write more and get more into the habit of it my productivity might go up as well. I have all these essays I’ve started over the last year or so that I need to finish, and I also need to write something for the Substack; I don’t think I posted anything last week and if I want to be a professional and grow it as a marketing tool for my writing, I need to be more…regular with it. I can’t blog and write a newsletter essay every damned day, but I can write a blog entry every day and write a newsletter essay every week, even while writing a book. I can feel that I am also starting, from time to time, to get a little anxious about being so far behind on all my writing. I would like to get all of these in-progress stories and essays finished by the end of the year, but am also aware that’s a very ambitious program. I mean, it is possible, of course; everything is, but it may not be realistic. Then again I seem to be past anxiety and stress (yay correct medications!) but I am also finding that I no longer need anxiety and stress to write, which is absolutely lovely. Yes, I did worry a bit about that when my creativity was fallow, and yes, I feel much better about everything in general. It’s amazing what a difference actually writing and creating does for my mind.

But it does, and that’s just a fact. Nothing makes me more aware that I am meant to be a writer than how much better writing makes me feel. It’s also nice to be enjoying it; it feels like I’ve not really had the opportunity in a very long time to savor and enjoy the entire process, and it’s really terrific to rediscover my joy at being a creative. After almost thirty years of being paid to write, I’m finally in a place where I can just kind of enjoy myself and appreciate it more and maybe, just maybe, I’ll even be able to do more promotion when the next one comes out than I’ve been doing for about a decade.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a good Wednesday, Constant Reader, and remember that we’re on the downward slide into the weekend now!

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Cast Your Fate To The Wind

Ah, and here we are, three day weekend in the rearview mirror as we coast headfirst into a Tuesday that is destined to feel like a Monday all day. I set the alarm and got up at seven-ish; an hour later than a work day and really, something completely sensible to do on days off. An extra hour still feels like a treat, and then I have the entire morning to get things done. I washed dishes, made breakfast, wrote two posts, and then dug into the book and cranked out over two thousand words before noon–with the entire day still ahead of me. I wish I could tell you that I worked on some other writing, but I didn’t. I was reading newsletters and magazines that have stacked up (another thing that is stupid–I let magazines pile up, collect dust, and just be clutter rather than simply reading them at first opportunity and then tossing them in the trash–or tearing out an article that may be of interest to me at a later date (can’t imagine how all that paper piled up on me over the years). I am pleased to say I have only three back issues of Texas Monthly (their true crime reporting is stellar) and the latest 64 Parishes to read now. I also watched some news clips on Youtube, fell into a wormhole about the history of the Cathars in southern France and the Albigensian Crusade that killed them all, and finally started reading about the Baptist War in Jamaica–there’ll be more on that at another time, trust me on that– before doing some filing and touching up around here. All in all, it was a lovely weekend, and I am so delighted to be back into the book again (I was worried about picking it back up again after the last few days not working on it), and knowing that my editorial and creative eye is coming back together, too. I still have to get used to my life as it is now, and I know there are going to be bad days that I just need to accept and roll with, and not beat myself up over those sorts of things. Being too tired to write or create is a valid reason for not doing so. It just is painful and the writing isn’t any good, anyway–and it’s not like I need to prove to myself that I can write a goddamn crime novel, do I?

I feel pretty rested and good this morning. We shall see how that develops for the rest of the day. I think we’re pretty busy today; or maybe not; maybe it was next week? We always get busy at the STI clinic after Southern Decadence…which kind of makes me a little proud, because we’ve trained our clients so well that they know about the window periods for the bacterial infections so they wait. (The schedule isn’t that busy; I just checked it–laptop came home with me on Thursday–so yes, it’s next week that is super-busy.) I have to make groceries on the way home from the office tonight; I may be too tired to work on the book tonight but…that’s okay.

Yesterday afternoon I was kind of at loose ends and dangerously close to being bored, when I remembered a conversation at work recently, in which one of my co-workers told me he loves to watch bad movies with a friend to laugh at them, so I asked, as is my wont, if they’d seen Voyage of the Rock Aliens–I have yet to find anyone else who has seen it (I saw it twice in the theater) and so that was in my mind. Right now I can’t remember the brain trail that led me to think of it yesterday, but I did, and the whole movie is up on Youtube…so yes, I rewatched it, and…it really can’t be watched alone to be laughed at properly. Anyway, it was the great Ruth Gordon’s final movie (what an epitaph!), starred Pia Zadora and an incredibly beautiful young Craig Sheffer. It’s a weird mash-up of the bad scifi and beach movies of the 50s and 60s, a lot of the humor is of the time (I’m sure kids today, or even viewers of any age for that matter, would get the Lake Eerie jokes, because the lake was cleaned up), and it’s even more godawful to rewatch after forty years or so. It may even be worth it’s own entry…

We also started watching Kaos, which is demented in a very fun way; a modern twist on Greek mythology. A reboot kind of, if you will. Jeff Goldblum is perfect as Zeus, as is Janet McTeer as Hera. Of course, since it involves Orpheus and Eurydice, it put me in mind of Hadestown, which I saw on Broadway in New York thanks to Mike Ford. I’m looking forward to watching more tonight, if I’m not too tired and Paul isn’t working on a grant the way he has been for the last week or so. Of course, I could unwind with my Alison Gaylin ARC, which I am doling out to myself as a reward for getting things done.

I am very glad that my brain has finally unlocked and I am not only writing again, but writing the way I did before the recent times of troubles. I’m enjoying it, and am having fun with it again. I don’t know if I am all the way there again yet, and I’m not all the way back to normal (or whatever passes for normal in my life) quite yet, but I don’t feel like there’s a dark cloud in my brain and just getting through the day is a triumph anymore. Now that it’s unlocked, I can also see that some of the stories I’ve written over the last four years and not been able to place (or finish)? Now that my mind is more clear than it’s been in a while, I can see what the problems are–the voice and tone of the story. They’re written kind of in a cheery, pleasant tone, and that doesn’t work with what the stories are about. What was I thinking? No, they need to be colder, and more desperate, unsentimental, which isn’t as easy for me as it should be. They need to be harder and colder and crueler, more desperate, in order for the stories to work, which is also pretty cool. I’m so glad I’ve figured this out at long last! I also think part of the reason I made the stories not as dark as they needed to be was because of the shitshow life had become for us all and I didn’t want to write anything dark. My brain was telling me something, wasn’t it?

I also walked to Walgreens to get treats for His Impious Majesty, listening to the My Dad Wrote a Porno podcast and rather enjoying it–it’s really hilarious, you should check it out–when the door opened in my brain and I finally figured out what podcasts actually are: they’re like radio shows of old only with a more modern delivery system. so we’ve kind of circled back around the entertainment my grandparents used to enjoy–radio/podcast, they are basically the same, with the primary difference how you get distributed to listeners, kind of like do-it-yourself radio. Yes, it only took me how many years to figure it out? Heavy sigh. But now that I finally get them, I can start looking for others that could be fun and informational. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around them–sometimes I have to connect newer technology to older so I can understand its purpose. Yes, I am well aware how obtuse I can be, which I think is a part of the wacky brain chemistry that I want to talk to my doctor about. I don’t need medication to control the wandering mind syndrome, as I’ve remembered how to write again, so that’s not an issue. But it would be nice to have a diagnosis rather than simply wondering and self-diagnosing from my reading.

I also started relearning German on Duolingo this weekend, which makes sense. There are crusty memories deep in the recesses of my brain, and doesn’t it make more sense to try triggering my memory rather than starting from scratch with a whole new language. So far, so good. I can order coffee and bread and wine in German now. So, when I am in a German coffee shop I can say, kaffee und brot, bitte.

I didn’t really have much FOMO about Bouchercon over the weekend–obviously, I know I would have had fun had I gone because now I know too many people not to have fun, if that makes any kind of sense to you. I did miss seeing everyone, but my primary regret in not going was not being able to participate in the voting down of removing the DEI (aka inclusion) from the Bouchercon operating by-laws…yes another attempt by a mediocre white man who used to be on the Board and was long associated with it (back in its misogynist, racist, homophobic days where that kind of shit was not only tolerated, but enjoyed) deciding that since he had a problem with inclusion the entire conference should just do away with it. Thanks, Al Abramson, I remember reporting being treated homophobically by programming years ago and you just patted me on the head and basically told me to get over it. Fuck you all the way to hell and back, and don’t think we aren’t fucking organized, you miserable piece of bigoted trash. Can’t imagine why queers felt uncomfortable and unsafe attending your fucking event, and the trash LOC couldn’t even be bothered reassuring us, and in fact, exposed how homophobic the LOC was. But thanks to the alert Board members and some others–CWoC, QCW–rallied the troops, but the Board also refused to consider it and the refusal of this last minute last ditch attempt to make it a Karen-and-Chad conference again. But this is also why we have to be forever vigilant, because there’s always some mediocrity trying to drive out the marginalized.

Must have been a real bitch-slap seeing how diverse the Anthony Awards were.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday that feels like Monday, and may be back later.