Chiseled in Stone

And it’s Sunday morning again, and Sparky was rather insistent on being fed this morning, so I am up earlier than I have been the rest of the weekend. Which is fine, I feel rested and good this morning. I didn’t get nearly as much done yesterday as I would have liked, of course; but I did do some chores and read for a little bit, which was nice. It was a mellow day, really, and I ran my errand in the morning, cooked out for the afternoon, and so have some writing and reading and cleaning to do today. I hate when LSU plays a noon game, because the rest of the day afterwards seems so long…LSU did win, beating 2-8 Arkansas by one (!) point in Baton Rouge. The game seemed kind of dull to me, but I wasn’t ensconced in my chair during the game with my blood pressure elevating. I might rewatch it at some point this morning, or have it on while I read. Alabama lost a shocker to Oklahoma at home yesterday, and Georgia humiliated Texas last night–Mississippi depending on a lot of luck to beat Florida. It’s been a hot minute, too, since a team beat Alabama in back-to-back years. I imagine their coach is under fire this morning.

I downloaded another audiobook for the drive to Kentucky next week; I got the third Mary Russell novel by MWA Grand Master Laurie R. King, A Letter of Mary, and I am very excited to listen to it. Her Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes series is magnificent, and an excellent replacement for one of my favorite series of all time, Elizabeth Peters’ Amelia Peabody1 series. Mary’s voice and character remind me of my beloved Peabody, it’s almost like getting another book by the late Ms. Peters. I’ve loved everything I’ve read that Laurie writes; again, just like Peters. I also have a shit ton of audiobooks on my phone I’ve not listened to (why do I hoard books in every form in which they appear? Why am I like this?); but I like the idea of listening to King on the way up and Donna Andrews (whose Meg also reminds me of Peabody2) on the way back. That sounds like an absolutely delightful plan to me, at any rate. I also need to get braced for the cold.

We also watched the rhythm dance competition for Skate America; we’ll probably watch the free dance and the men’s final this afternoon. I also would love to get back to Lazarus, and am thinking about watching this new Frankenstein. But I also need to get some reading and writing, and get caught up on the news. It’s interesting watching Fox and the White House and their allies turning on each other, isn’t it? Explaining why fifteen isn’t as bad as five or eight for child rape? So much evil and nastiness being exposed to the disinfecting power of sunlight at long last. Can we at least stop ceding the moral high ground to the child rapist party? When this menace and disaster are finally over, there needs to be some serious accountability…or the cycle will begin all over again. There should have been tribunals after the Civil War, and there should have been again after civil rights and integration. It does not speak well of our country that we never want to deal with accountability…and seriously, there should have been hearings after we dropped two atomic bombs on Japan.3

I really get angry when I think about how the public school system of the 1960s indoctrinated me into American exceptionalism, and how it’s taken up so much of my time as an adult unlearning that bullshit. But at least I recognized that I needed to rethink much of everything I was taught to believe growing up; which so many never, ever do.

And that’s another newsletter essay, isn’t it? Heavy sigh.

Sorry this is so brief, but there really isn’t much to report this morning. So I am going to go to my chair with my coffee and read for a bit while catching up on the news, and then I am going to clean and write. Have a lovely Sunday, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

Pharaoh Akhenaten, the heretic
  1. I really need to do a newsletter about Elizabeth Peters/Barbara Michaels. ↩︎
  2. I really should also do a newsletter about those three women. ↩︎
  3. To this day, we remain the only nation to use weapons of mass destruction on another. We really cannot climb onto the moral high horse with anyone, can we? ↩︎

Heartbroke

Good morning to you, and how are we all feeling this lovely Saturday morning? Sparky let me sleep in a bit this morning, for which I am eternally grateful; it’s weird how he’ll try at first, but if the alarm doesn’t go off, he’ll just cuddle and wait. He really is a darling, isn’t he? I was thinking yesterday evening as he slept in my lap. Yesterday was a nice day, really. I got my meetings out of the way and did my work before my errands and some cleaning and reading. We started watching Harlan Coben’s Lazarus on Prime last night, and it’s very interesting and very different than Harlan’s other work. I like the idea of a psychiatrist losing his father and then starting to see ghosts of murder victims that his father saw as patients, and then sees his own father, who tells him he didn’t commit suicide but was murdered. Very enthralling and interesting, I must say.

LSU plays this morning; I believe the start time is 11:45. They’re playing Arkansas at home, and who knows how that will go? There are other interesting games to have on in the background (Alabama-Oklahoma could be interesting), but I also want to make progress on things today and at least finish cleaning the house. I have to run an errand this morning in a little bit, but other than that I’m not planning on leaving the house again until Monday. It was stunningly gorgeous yesterday, and is again today from the looks of things, which is marvelous.

I picked up three books I’d ordered: Without Consent by Sarah Weinman; More Adventures of the Mad Scientists’ Club by Bertrand R. Brinley, and The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey. Sarah Weinman is one of the finest writers in our genre, and her nonfiction works–which study, through the lens of crime and the judicial system, the gradual rise of women’s rights and equality in this country. This, about the Rideout case, and protecting women from spousal rape, is going to be a very intense read. The Brinley is a sequel to one of my favorite juvenile books from the Scholastic Book Club, The Mad Scientists’ Club, which I’ve never forgotten but didn’t know there was more than just the one book in the series, so it should be very fun to read. The Lindsey is something I remember reading as a kid that I kind of wanted to revisit, with all the missed raptures of the last few years as well as an example of End Times mythology; it may have been one of the first books about this that may have ever been published. As a suburban Chicago teenager I was very interested in the occult and unexplained mysteries, which there seem to have been a lot of back in the day. Was the 1970s the heyday of bizarre conspiracy theory? Between this and the “ancient aliens” bullshit (and we must never forget the Bermuda Triangle and Area 51, either) it seemed like that was an intense decade for conspiracy theorists. (I also found a copy of Stranger Than Science on ebay during the shutdown…)

The Lindsey is the basis for my first entry (or the second) on religion for my newsletter, and how there probably could be no The Omen without it. See, I am making progress on the newsletters! One thing I definitely want to get this weekend is the two ongoing essay series for the newsletter (religion and masculinity) organized, as well as working on the background for Chlorine and finishing the first draft of “A Holler Full of Kudzu,” which will undoubtably either turn into a novella and perhaps even a short novel (I am not pushing that, though).

And on that note, I need to get going on the day. Have a terrific Ides of November, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

Thursday, and my last day in the office for the week. There are, of course, meetings tomorrow morning, but after those have passed, I can do my data entry and quality assurance before relaxing and diving into Between a Flock and a Hard Place, which I am really looking forward to. I did get a little tired yesterday afternoon–more sleepy than fatigued, though, which is different and better. I made groceries on the way home–not much–and did some straightening once I got home, so the kitchen doesn’t look like a hurricane went through here and the counters are cleared. I have errands to run tonight after work, too–but it’s the last day for me in the office before the weekend, and the last day of the pay period, so I get to leave early thanks to accumulated time.

Paul didn’t get home last night until after I went to bed, so I spent the evening sitting in my easy chair with Sparky sleeping in my lap while I caught up on the news of the day–and I woke up this morning to even more fallout from yesterday’s news. This Epstein thing is going to be really bad, which is why the powerful and the rich have done their damnedest to bury every last bit of it. Ghislaine Maxwell lied to the DOJ to cover for the president and got moved to a country club prison, for one thing–we knew it before, but now there’s incontrovertible proof she lied, and only the MAGA-iest of his supporters could possibly believe anything the clown says about anything from now on…or how quickly MAGA loses interest in pursuing actual pedophiles now that their foul lord and master is so damnably implicated now (which we on the left always knew) that there’s no getting away from it–and the Supreme Court’s gift naming him the Very Special Boy who can commit crimes as long as he calls them official acts–doesn’t fucking apply here. Wompity wompity womp womp.

And we really need to make “but his emails” a thing now.

I didn’t have any trouble getting out of bed this morning–I even forgot to set the alarm, but Sparky woke me up anyway–and while I do feel a bit of fatigue in my legs, it’s bearable. I am sure I am going to hit the wall this afternoon before I leave to run my errands (groceries, mail, prescriptions) after work, but that’s fine. All I need to do is refluff the clothes in the dryer and fold them to put away, empty and reload the dishwasher, and maybe–maybe–do some other cleaning work before sitting in my chair with Sparky and Donna’s book and reading for a bit before Paul comes home and we try to get caught up on our shows. I also want to watch the new Frankenstein movie; I was never really a fan of any of those films (other than Young Frankenstein, which is still one of the funniest movies ever made), so I am not going into it with any bias. I originally read the book (along with Dracula) as a teenager and found them both to be a bit…boring. I reread them sometime around the turn of the century and found myself really enjoying them more, and Frankenstein1 the book? I preferred it to any of the films I’d seen as a child; perhaps I should revisit those old classics from the 1930s again. Funny how, when revisiting horror last month for Halloween, I primarily focused on slasher movies like Scream rather than going back to the original classics from Universal, isn’t it? I think I need to watch horror more broadly next October, and should make a list. The Uninvited would be a good choice, methinksand I have a copy of the book, so I can read it and watch the movie!

Huzzah!

I’m also, due to the lack of fatigue, getting better organized and getting more things done. I am on my game at the day job for the first time since I had COVID in the summer of 2022, which is cool (I like being good at my job, you know). I’m hoping to get some more writing done before Monday, and to make some progress on getting ready to finish the first draft of Chlorine. It really sucked these last few years not being in the right mental space to write and enjoy it; it’s seemed like an odious chore since the COVID thing, and it’s really nice getting back into the swing of creativity again. I doubt I’ll ever write five to six books per year ever again, until I retire at the very least.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

  1. aka The New Prometheus, which is a big tell about the book’s themes. ↩︎

I Hold On

Well, here we are on an extremely cold Tuesday morning and it is very chilly here in the work station here in the kitchen; I don’t even want to think about how cold the floor would be against bare feet (which is why I have a very comfortable pair of house shoes). It is bitterly cold outside this morning; about thirty-one degrees, per the local weather. It ends tonight, by the way, and we’ll recede back into fall from winter tomorrow (highs in the high 60s, low 70s) with a chance at winter coming back relatively soon. I just laughed at myself for talking about the weather; I kind of do that every day, don’t I?

Then again, I am sixty-four, and the right age to sit outside a country store in a rocking chair wearing a railroad cap and overalls and chewing tobacco. There, but for choices…but I don’t think old men hang around outside the country store/gas station in rural areas anymore; that’s part and parcel of my childhood and that world doesn’t really exist anymore, much as I’d like to think that it does. It often crops up when I am writing about Alabama–because that’s how I remember it, and that Alabama is so far gone in the rear view mirror it cannot even be seen.

Despite Chuckie and the Quislings, yesterday was also a lovely day because that horrible witch Kim Davis’ appeal of the six figure settlement awarded to a couple that sued her skank cosplay christian ass for refusing to issue a marriage license for them? Yeah, for once the Supreme Court did the right thing and refused to hear her case. Womp fucking womp, bitch. Have fun in bankruptcy hell. Maybe your buddies in the Huckabee family will help you pay off that oh-so-deserved debt liability, you miserable bitch. Now you can slink back to the bog you slithered out of, and you will forever be known as a hateful bitch deserted by the people who used her to try to overturn Obergefell1, which SCOTUS is just itching to do (her case wasn’t good enough for even those partisan hacks to overturn their previous decision; they’re waiting for the right one, you know. They have lifetime appointments and aren’t going anywhere soon). Just like the murdering thugs George Zimmerman and that pasty Mama’s soft boy whose name I can’t even remember at the moment, they abandoned her as soon as she ceased to be of use to them. What a shame.

I was tired last night when I got home from the errands in the cold. Well, tired isn’t the right word; more like I felt drained and listless. The apartment wasn’t cold, but I didn’t really feel 100% most of the day, either. I feel better this morning–not much of a reach there–so maybe I’ll be able to get some things done tonight when I get home from work, whether it’s writing or reading my Donna Andrews mystery. (I have to say, when I was moving stuff around on the end table–reordering the TBR Next Pile; Wanda Morris is up next–and I opened the book to just take a look at the opening…and she talks about the mass suicide at Igbo Landing, which I’ve been reading about!!! I cannot wait to read this book now! I should also see how far behind I am on Wanda’s work….and it’s only this one I’ve not gotten to yet. Huzzah! Note to self: email her.) I also have dishes to put away and dishes to put in the dishwasher. Sigh. There are worse things, after all.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again on Midweek Wednesday morning.

  1. She also needs to keep Jesus out of her skank mouth. Jesus never once preached arrogance in the faith or cruelty. You, madam, are arrogant in your faith AND cruel. Enjoy doing the breaststroke in the lake of eternal fire, blasphemer. ↩︎

The Joke

And here we are on Sunday morning, rested and refreshed and ready to dive into my last day off for this weekend. I slept late again today, after not having much of a busy day; mostly, I watched football games while doing chores and reading. LSU lost, but it wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be. And who knew that Auburn-Vanderbilt would be the game of the day? It was the best I’ve seen Auburn play all season, and it was a shame they lost in overtime. Apparently, Kentucky shellacked Florida last night, too. Tulane played Friday night, and they also won, continuing to be the pride of Louisiana football. Roll Wave!

As I read deeper into The Hunting Wives, the book continues to deviate from the show (which was very fun) and the tone is very different. I will, of course, write about the book and the show once I’ve finished reading it. I had also pushed off writing about Boots until after Halloween, and now I am not sure I remember it well enough to write about it. Ah, well, I have some other newsletters that I need to get written, too. I had a crisis of confidence last night about Chlorine; which is normal for me, I think. (I was spending some time plotting the story and had one of those you’re going to blow this great idea moments; which is self-defeating and the entire point of those wretched kind of thoughts and spirals. Those are holdovers from untreated anxiety, and if I let them run their course without allowing them to take root, they always pass. I’m confident about it again this morning, so this methodology definitely seems to work.) I’ll probably read some more this morning before I hop into the shower and get cleaned up. I am making my own version of Swedish meatballs later on, too.

The cold apparently will descend upon us later today. It’s warm this morning, if cloudy; we’ll probably have thunderstorms in the evening and overnight as the temperature drops to a low of 37 (!!!) overnight. Yesterday was lovely when I ran my errands; I also spent some time pruning the books down again. You can actually see the dent I made in my book hoarder stacks! This is enormously pleasing, and while I did end up putting some books back into the stacks that I considered donating (they intrigued me again while looking at them), I did make the kind of progress I wanted. Maybe next weekend I can be even more ruthless…I mean, some of these I bought ten years or so ago and still haven’t read; maybe it’s time to set them free so someone else can enjoy them instead of collecting dust here in the Lost Apartment, right? And at least I paid for them.

I was also thinking yesterday about my newsletter/blog/personal essays, and how I am always so reluctant to talk deeply about my affinity for some authors and the books I love because I don’t have a degree in Literature and don’t read extensively academic explorations of literature, which makes me fear that anything I might have to say might have already been said (multiple times) by any number of Lit professors, and been dissected, deconstructed, and developed through vigorous debate and argument. It was more self-defeating talk; I may not have read as much of the classics as I maybe should have (most of which I didn’t enjoy in the least) or practiced such things on classics in the collegiate classroom (some day, I will discuss at great length my many failures at secondary education), but ultimately, it always boils down to opinion, doesn’t it? The newsletter essays also aren’t something I generally just write off the top of my head as I experience them; they marinate for a while in my head and I may take more than one run at the topic, too, before sharing them with my slowly growing subscription base. (This blog, on the other hand, is whatever comes to mind in the morning as I drink my coffee, and yawn and stretch and try to come alive.) That’s why I decided to separate opinion essays on movies, books, and television out from here to the newsletter, which eases the time burden on thinking about culture I consume. And the essays are supposed to be creative outlets for me to write about things that interest me, and I have soooo many varied interests.

And it also allows me to write personal essays about my life and past. I am writing one now that was inspired by going to my parents’ high school’s Homecoming game the last time I went up to Alabama. I also thought some yesterday, not just about Chlorine but several other things I am writing or have in progress that I’d love to get off my desk throughout the end of this year and next. I think maybe finishing all this work in progress might make me feel a little less harried and frenzied and behind on everything? Who knows?

And on that note, my book is calling to me, so I am going to head to my easy chair to do some reading. Have a great Sunday and I will be back in the morning.

Maidens supporting a roof on the Acropolis, Athens.

Season of the Witch

Happy All Saints Day! And welcome to November, I suppose. This year is slipping away like sands through the hour glass (hat tip: Days of Our Lives), but the terrorist attack of New Year’s seems like it was a million years ago, too. When I think about where we are now as opposed to where we were ten months ago, though…it seems like a decade has passed since my New Year’s blog, doesn’t it? I slept deeply and well last night, and Sparky let me sleep later (although he got his razor blades trimmed yesterday, so him smacking me in the face in the morning doesn’t have the same impact) than I usually do, so that was nice too. We have to run some errands today we didn’t get to yesterday, but that’s fine. LSU isn’t playing today so I don’t have a vested interest in watching games today, so I don’t really care to be home for them all day, either. I probably won’t get any writing or much reading done, but…I also am not going to worry about it. Yes, time is slipping away, but I also need to allow myself to get rest and be lazy without beating myself up about it all the damned time, too. Progress?

Perhaps. We shall see.

I also have to pay some bills this morning before we do anything, and probably get some of the chores done, too. I made good progress on chores yesterday; the bed linens all got laundered, the dishes are done and put away, the counters are cleaned and cleared, and all I really need to do is vacuum the rugs and mop the floors, and potentially prune more of the books down. I need to be more ruthless, too.

The backlash to governor Janky Jeff’s massive interference with LSU apparently taught the moron some sort of lesson, because he backed the fuck down after Scott Woodward (best of luck to you, sir, you worked wonders at LSU and I am sorry Janky Jeff decided to show his ass) was fired. To paraphrase Mean Girls, “he didn’t even go there.” He also got some pushback when he tried to force Loyola (a Jesuit Catholic private university in New Orleans) to charter a chapter of Turning Point USA after the student senate flatly rejected their application, mainly because they don’t share the same values as the Society of Jesus. Bitch slap! I was glad to see a Catholic university stand their ground against political interference from TEMU Huey Long. Don’t stand with the evangelicals, Catholics–they will come for you eventually as idolators and papists and pagans. They don’t think you’re real Christians in the first place, so less than what they see as “white.” Janky Jeff is not popular in Louisiana; only 19% of registered voters even voted in that gubernatorial election because we had no options. All the candidates were different degrees of MAGA, anyway. I don’t even remember who I voted for, but I have never cast a ballot for Jeff Landry and I never will.

I can only hope to be seated in the jury for his inevitable trial for corruption and malfeasance. No, they wouldn’t seat me, because no one could ever convince me he isn’t guilty.

Then again, Jindal was never charged with anything. And he definitely should have been; his wife was just as corrupt as Casey DeSantis, and the corrupt always corrupt. (Note to everyone: their women are just as bad as, if not worse, than their husbands. See: Usha Vance, Melania Trump, Lara Trump…the list is lengthy.)

Sigh.

My mind is still deeply entrenched in horror, by the way, which is something I don’t remember Halloween Horror Month doing to me before; maybe because I was always trying to finish a book before the end of the year? This entire decade has been mentally draining and fatiguing, frankly, and I’ve had a lot of brain fog and increasing loss of memory. I do wonder occasionally about how different my career would be had I gone into horror rather than crime; rather than just being a fan. I did want to write horror when I was in my twenties, and even tried. I laugh now when I remember thinking my personalized rejections with suggestions and tips and encouragement to keep writing and submitting to them, from horror magazine editors, was just them being nice. Editors are never nice like that, ever, as I have since learned. I guess I was so down on myself and had such a lack of self-esteem (as well as knowledge; there was no one to tell me differently) that I focused on the rejection rather than accepting the encouragement. Each rejection was further confirmation that I was a loser, and I was in such a spiral of misery in the 1980s there wasn’t any way I could have seriously pursued being a writer. I don’t have regrets–I never do–but sometimes I do wonder. I played the cards I was dealt and everything eventually turned out, didn’t it? But I am going to try to work on some things tomorrow, since I don’t have to leave the house at all and Paul is, I think, going to his office.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back here in the morning.

The Dead Dance

Saturday morning with an LSU game on pretty early, at eleven this morning; I’ll still be drinking coffee at that hour. I slept well last night, which felt good–I love the night when the bed has freshly laundered linens and blankets–and Sparky even let me sleep in a little bit. My coffee is tasty this morning as I wake up and prepare for a day in which I probably won’t do much of anything other than read, watch football, and make notes in my journal. I feel a big tired this morning still, but it’s the final stage of the fatigue dying away. I may do some chores and picking up around here during the games, but I am sure by tonight’s Alabama-Tennessee rivalry game I’ll probably be quite sick of watching football games. Miami lost last night, so the rankings are going to be shaken up again, as they will be after all today’s games.

After finishing day job duties yesterday and running my errands, I settled into my easy chair and rewatched Scream, the original, and was reminded again of just how clever this movie is and why I love it so much. I took five pages of notes! The panel on crossing the line between horror and mystery also resonated and has stayed in my head… and I also remembered some things since, like authors we didn’t mention. I also very proudly finished and posted my newsletter on Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives, which was a rave, and also has me in mind of slasher stories….the one on Scream is going to be a pretty good one, methinks. We shall see, I suppose.

After Scream, we settled in to watch our shows for the evening, before retiring to bed pretty early. I also picked up my copies of the third Frendo book, Clown in a Cornfield 3: The Church of Frendo, which sound delicious and a continuation of the exploration of trauma the characters have faced–as well as remembering the rules: in a trilogy, no one is safe in the third chapter–and the latest Donna Andrews. (I am four books behind on her series now.) I really do want to write a slasher novel, and have several ideas for one (my favorite potential title is Where the Boys Die); but I have numerous things I want to write before I turn my fevered brain in that direction. I’m going to work on something for the rest of the month (mostly short stories and a novella) before diving headfirst into Chorine for November. Ideally, I want to have the first draft finished by the end of the month so I can work on something else for December.

I am also planning on revisiting A Nightmare on Elm Street before spooky season ends. And today I am going to dive headfirst into Holokua Road by Elizabeth Hand while I am watching the games, if not starting it before the LSU game starts. I don’t know how LSU will do today against Vanderbilt; they’re pretty good this year, despite their sloppy loss to Alabama in Tuscaloosa. It’s not like LSU has been setting the world on fire this season anyway. So, that game could very easily ruin the energy of the entire day if I am not careful. I also have some short stories to read–I have several horror anthologies and author collections–while I continue to celebrate Halloween Horror Month until the very end.

And on that note, I am heading back into the spice mines for the day. I do have some chores to do this morning as well as some cleaning, filing and organizing. Have a great day, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early and feeling rested, I hope.

Wish List

Somehow I’ve made it to Wednesday this week, so praise the Lord and pass the ammunition, thank you very much. I was very tired yesterday–muscle fatigue more than anything else, thank God no brain fog–but there have been worse days than yesterday. I got almost completely caught up on all the work I was behind on, and can head into the office today knowing that I will be caught up and current on everything by the end of the day, which is marvelous. Yay me! I also updated all bills and made a to-do list yesterday, which should work for the rest of the week. I also get to start reading a new horror novel when I get home from work tonight–either Scott Carson or Elizabeth Hand, which should be awesome.

We finished Boots last night, which I enjoyed very much. I have seen some people complaining about the lack of romance on the show–it’s boot fucking camp, hello?–which seems kind of a ludicrous complaint, really. Were they expecting soft-core gay porn? Wasn’t all the eye candy enough? Honestly. I enjoyed the writing, the acting, and the story itself. I may go into more deeply at some point, after I’ve digested it a while and thought about it some more. I also enjoyed Miles Heizer in this, and given how much he annoyed me in Thirteen Reasons Why, and that is saying something. But I will say this–I think Max Parker is the breakout star from this show. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous man, and his performance as a decorated (and closeted) drill instructor during those horrible times when homosexuality was a crime in the armed forces, and yeah. There was a part of me that hoped the characters of Miles and Max would end up together–but I wasn’t terribly disappointed (SPOILER) that they didn’t. It was the story of Miles getting through boot camp with his platoon brothers, the relationships they built with each other, and literally maturing and growing up; and while the notion of ideal Marine masculinity can be troubling…they are being trained to work as a unit and for war.

Something to ponder there. Was modern-day toxic masculinity developed during war-time service in the Pacific and Europe, only to have the returning soldiers seep into the popular culture? Yeah, I’ll probably write longer-form about Boots, because it will easily play into my essay series about masculinity that I am planning to write.

Also, very nice to see openly gay actors not only getting work but getting to play gay characters in something as well done as this.1 It also reminded me that my dad thought it might be a good idea for me to go into the military for two years before going to college–and I wanted absolutely nothing to do with that idea. I don’t regret that decision, but you always have to wonder how different everything would be had I went along with that idea.

Must be my old age that has me going down these alternate history paths.

I did make a to-do list yesterday and I plan on getting started on that today. I am going to fetch the mail on my way home from work tonight, and then probably again on Friday afternoon. Since the LSU game is so early on Saturday, I’ll try to get all errands done either on Friday or Sunday morning. I also started writing a longer-form essay on Frendo Lives, too; what’s the point of Halloween Horror Month if I don’t write about the horror media I am consuming this month? I also seriously want to write about the whole concept of the slasher story, which is what Adam Cesare’s “Frendo” trilogy basically are. I have to say I’ve always wanted to write a slasher novel.

Still not completely caught up on everything that’s been going on in the world, and not really sure that I actually want to, either. Ah, well.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning, methinks.

The adorable Freddie Stroma, who plays Vigilante in Peacemaker
  1. Apparently it filmed here in New Orleans, too. ↩︎

Father Figure

Tuesday morning as I get back into the swing of my reality again. Yesterday was an easy way to slip back into the work grind, and I was tired most of the day. I was very tired by the time I got home from work and errands and things, collapsing into my chair and bingeing more of Boots, which we are really enjoying before retiring pretty early. I had hoped to get some more things done around the apartment, but I can only do what I am capable of doing, you know? It’s still going to take a bit longer for me to get reacclimated, and that’s perfectly fine. I can only do what I can, right? I also need to stop berating myself for being a little wobbly when I get back on the bicycle of my reality.

One of the goals for 2025 was to be kinder to myself–and I am constantly having to remind myself of that very thing. My default is to always take the blame, or to be self-critical, and that’s a cycle from childhood that I need to break. I also cannot believe how quickly this month has passed. What the hell? How is tomorrow the 15th already again? Heavy heaving sigh.

I’ve been thinking I might start trying to listen to audiobooks in the car while I run around doing errands and driving to and from work. I’m never in the car for very long, which is why I’m thinking it may not work–it could take weeks to completely listen to a book all the way through this way–but I could also listen while I take walks. I’d just need to get earphones with a connecting wire; I refuse to sell pints of blood so I can afford ear pods, which I would lose. And since the weather is now cooling down, going for walks in the evening and in the morning might not be a bad thing; and an easy way to start getting my endurance back after this hellish decade for me, health-wise. Although I suppose at my age, my health now is really about the time between illnesses and surgeries. Heavy sigh.

And yes, you can still get wired headphones for iPhones. I checked.

I’m also getting caught up on my day job stuff, and perhaps by the end of the day I can triumphantly shout from the rooftops that I am finally current on those duties. Huzzah! LSU plays at Vanderbilt this weekend, and the game is at 11. YIKES. I hate early games, and the Tigers also tend to not play as well early. Vanderbilt is a good team again this year, and we don’t know if LSU is actually a good team or not. I guess we’ll find out early Saturday morning, but at least the game will be out of the way early and the games the rest of the day won’t matter as much whether I pay attention or not, which means a good time for cleaning the apartment.

I also need to start going through the calls for submission that I’ve bookmarked as interesting ideas for me to try for. The entire time I was in Alabama, I was thinking about a novella-in-progress I have that I would like to get finished…yes, another Alabama story.

And I need to start cleaning out the storage attic. That shit’s not going to empty itself out, is it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again tomorrow. I am off to make a to-do list!

I’ve always been fascinated by Baron Samedi

Elizabeth Taylor

Did you miss me this morning? I had to take my car in to get it serviced (and was informed of things I’m going to need to get done soon), and then I came home to pack and run some errands. That’s all done now, and I am waiting for a podcast I am appearing on to promote Crime Ink: Iconic with Robyn Gigl, John Copenhaver and Marco Carocari on Alan Warren’s “House of Mystery” show, which should be fun and interesting. I don’t know how long that will take, but afterwards I am loading the car and driving north. I think I remembered to pack everything I need and if I forget anything, well, there are stores and things up there. I don’t have any writing to take with me on this trip, which is very weird–I am always writing something, it seems like–but I’m still decompressing from turning the book in (it needs work, I already know that) and so I am just going to let my mind wander for a while and scribble down ideas and start thinking about things I want to write and do. I am also thinking I probably won’t finish this before I leave, as I am loading the car the minute I sign out of the podcast.

Yesterday was an easy day of literally doing nothing other than picking up the mail and a prescription. I did nothing other than read The Haunting of Hill House and mostly think about how brilliant it is before going down some wormholes on Youtube–reviews of Hill House, some news, and some history documentaries about the Batman comics and their evolution over the years as well as the character changes. I did love comic books when I was a kid through being a teenager, and have occasionally dipped back into that world periodically as an adult (I really wish DC would let me write Nightwing, or revive Will Payton as Starman–or as another hero), so I find it interesting to learn about their history, and how the characters developed–as well as what outside influences impacted the characters. I’m not a comics nerd, but I do appreciate the art form and the creators, and am never averse to learning more about things I enjoy.

Well, it is now Friday afternoon and I am in Alabama, resting. Obviously I didn’t finish this entry before I departed, and am only now getting around to it; and it may not even be finished this time, either, LOL. I drove up here after recording the Housse of Mystery podcast, and that is a very helpfully placed link to the recording, which consists of Al Warren interviewing editor/contributor John Copenhaver, Robyn Gigl, and Marco Carocari. And me, of course. This was about the Crime Ink: Iconic anthology John edited and is freshly available at all your favorites places you select your reading choices. I’ve not had time to read it yet–that whole finishing-the-book thing–but am looking forward to digging into it sooner rather than later. I got here very late (for me)–nearly ten, my bedtime, and yes, I was very tired. As I drove through the dark night of rural Alabama, I kept getting a bit spooked and having deja vu and thinking, when have I ever driven through rural Alabama at night by myself before, which gradually morphed into I should memorize how it looks and feels to do this so I can write about it so I started describing the pines and the hollowed out hillsides the road cut through and when I pulled up to a four-way stop, I started laughing myself because I finally remembered; that was a passage in Bury Me in Shadows, and one of the creepier parts of the whole book!

Glad to confirm that I got that right.

Anyway, I was exhausted when I finally got here, and got up early yesterday to ride with Dad down to south Alabama–a lengthy round trip–to see family and was again exhausted last night–so exhausted I sat down here at the desk to try to check my email and I fell asleep! I woke up at two in the morning with my face down on the desk resting on my folded arms. I’m still tired today, so Dad is visiting friends while I rest here before we go to his old high school’s Homecoming Game–which is going to be strange for me, obviously. Dad and Mom used to come down for reunions fairly regularly until she started getting too sick, so he’s been back for games before. But for me, it’s a new experience. I’ve not been to a high school football game since my youngest nephew graduated high school, which I think was before Hurricane Katrina, and I’ve certainly not been to a rural high school game since I graduated high school myself. So, yes, I need to pay attention and notice things, because a project (one of many) I hope to finish over the next year or so opens at a high school football game. (I’ve also been thinking about some small town y/a horror/mystery novels lately, and thinking about writing another soon.) It doesn’t hurt that I’ve been thinking about slasher movies lately (Halloween Horror Month, remember?) and listening to Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives! in the car (which I am really enjoying) has also put me in mind of writing a slasher novel. I am not working on anything until everything is over with the new one–edits, copy-edits, and proofing–but it never hurts to spend some time in my head thinking about stories and characters and subtexts and intertwining subplots and stories.

I also read about half of Chris Grabenstein’s The Hanging Hill in the car yesterday. It’s a middle grade novel, but engaging and a bit funny, too. It’s easy to see why he’s so popular with kids.

I think I am going to go lie down for a bit. I’ll be back later, I am sure.

Well, I never came back to finish this, did I? Friday night’s Homecoming game ended well for the home team (they won 64-6), and then Saturday Dad and I watched football games. I was delighted LSU won, but wasn’t impressed by how they played. We watched the Alabama game with Missouri first, went to eat during the afternoon games with my uncle, and got back in time for the night games (we had the Auburn-Georgia game on the television while I had the LSU game on my new phone–and the picture quality was amazing). I have never seen such horrific and biased officiating in my life as I witnessed in the Auburn-Georgia game, and that team of officials and the replay idiot in Birmingham all need to be fired and horsewhipped, frankly. They blew so many calls–the so-called Auburn fumble was either a touchdown for Auburn or a touchdown for Georgia, not a touchdown for no one, for one example–that I wouldn’t trust them with a flag football game for children.

Sunday we went to Mom’s grave and put out flowers, and then I drove home…and Sparky was very happy to see me once I did.

So, this post should technically be read before this morning’s, but…so it goes!