Category: editing

I Miss You

EDITORIAL NOTE: I started writing this Friday morning, but didn’t finish it until this morning.

Friday in Alabama!

Yesterday was an okay day for the most part. I got up feeling pretty rested–good Lord, the bed and blankets are so damned comfortable–and departed for work. I was fine at work all day and was able to get a lot done before I left at noon. I went home, packed, cleaned a little bit, and headed out. There was some traffic around Mobile, but it was a relatively easy drive and I was deeply enjoying listening to Eli Cranor’s Mississippi Blue 42. I stopped at the new Buc-ee’s in Mississippi for gas, and got lunch at Jack’s in Creota, Alabama. I got here about six o’clock, very tired, and hung out with Dad for a while. Today I am driving him over to my aunt’s to help her get things ready at the church for the funeral, before coming back here to get ready myself. I also have to stop somewhere to get the things I forgot to pack (can’t replace my hearing aids charger, so I’ll be going deaf for the service) and I am not sure what the day holds after that. I am waiting for Dad right now to come get me so I can drive him over there. There’s a Walmart here, so I am going to swing by there either this morning or later on today to get some things that I need. Honestly! But everything I forgot was not written down on my packing list, which just goes to show me that the list MUST BE THOROUGH. I woke up several times during the night, but the bed was very comfortable but I think I’ll hit a wall later today, too. I am driving back to New Orleans tomorrow morning, and should be home by the mid/early afternoon.

The funeral service was actually quite lovely, and I met some cousins’ offspring and grandchildren I’d never met before, and saw some other relatives that I see more regularly than, well, I guess never? After the church service we went to the graveside service, which, given it was hot and the sun was out and we were all wearing black dress clothes…well, maybe the preacher might have wanted to consider that before he started talking? But these things—and my relatives—always make me think about church and religion. I’m always so caught off guard by how devoted they are, and how much church is pretty much a routine part of their lives. I’ve always wondered how it felt to believe without doubt, which I’ve never been able to master when I was trying as a teenager. But my sister—who came around eventually-and I weren’t raised in the church, just around it. The beliefs and values of the Church of Christ were installed in us by everyone around us as children, and even when I started going with Mom and my sister when I was in high school, I still wasn’t quite all the way there—even when I was active in the Youth Group, and went three times a week to services and sang the hymns and said amen after every prayer. Religion is really about the fear of death, and the fear of the unknown, I realized at the graveside service, and morbid as it sounds, I don’t think I ever had that powerful fear of death motivating me to believe. I somehow somewhere believed I was going to die young , so it’s quite a jolt sometimes to realize I did grow old.

I have had a lot of close calls, though—but that’s a story for another time.`

I also finished the editing job, too, which turned out to be way more fun than I expected—the material is brilliant—and can’t wait to talk about it more when it’s closer to release. I also worked on my next newsletter last night before going to bed—back to Scotty promo stuff, after all the new subscribers I picked up eulogizing Lauren last weekend—hope they aren’t bored! I’ll probably finish it tonight before bed, revise and edit it Sunday morning, and then send it out. I have chores to do at home, of course; don’t I always? I’ll also have to make a grocery run and order some things to be delivered.

I’m loving my new iPad and its Magic Keyboard, which basically has turned it into a laptop with a touch screen, and I actually like working on it more than my MacBook Air.

SUNDAY

Well, I didn’t quite finish that and get it posted whilst I was out of town, now, did I? I did not. I didn’t sleep great either night in the hotel–I’d forgotten my evening-anxiety-help-me-sleep medications–and so was kind of tired yesterday when I drove down the on-ramp to I-65 South. I made good time, though–a little less than four hours, because I didn’t have to stop anywhere on the way. I was plenty exhausted when I pulled up and parked in front of the house yesterday afternoon. I unloaded the car, ordered lunch to be delivered, and then collapsed into my easy chair. Sparky slept in my lap all afternoon as I watched some more of The Traitors (it was weird not even watching a single episode for several days). But after a little while, my legs were no longer exhausted and tired, so I was able to get up and do the dishes and start the laundry and picking up a bit more around here; I kind of left the place messy. I also have to take inventory and figure out what groceries are needed, so I can either order them for delivery today or stop on the way home from work tomorrow. I have to go uptown to get the mail anyway, so might as well swing by the grocery store, right?

I was greatly enjoying listening to Eli Cranor’s Mississippi Blue 42, and I am going to finish reading it in hard copy today. The drive down was nice, if I was a bit impatient to get home. There really wasn’t much traffic, and I didn’t even get terribly delayed by the infamous I-10 to I-90 ramp. My creativity also amped up yesterday as I was doing chores and watching videos on Youtube about Alabama–you know the type; “Ten Ghost Towns in Alabama” or “Twenty Cool Things You Didn’t Know About Alabama”–and they were really cool and great and interesting, and yes, gave me some ideas. I wish I had more time to take off from work so I can just go exploring, both here in Louisiana and in Alabama; I’d love to visit Moundville near Tuscaloosa again. My aunt took my sister and I there where we were kids, and the only thing I really remember was my aunt bought me a Davy Crockett raccoon skin cap, complete with the bushy tail. I’d also like to see Poverty Point here in Louisiana.

And I want to get back to writing fiction regularly again. I can get started this week, even with the Festivals coming up this weekend (AIEEEE), an of course Paul will be moving into the hotel on Wednesday night, leaving me home alone with Sparky, who will be lonely and feeling abandoned. I also have to be careful to ensure I don’t get worn out, and must reserve my energy. We certainly don’t want a repeat of last year, which resulted in me winding up in the hospital. The two things aren’t related, but my brain associates them together, alas–just like I associate Hurricane Season Hustle with being sick because it happened while I was writing the book.

And on that note, I am going to head over to my easy chair to finish reading Elis book, and figure out what to do with the rest of my day. Have a good one, and I will see you again tomorrow in the morning.

Former collegiate wrestler and now fitness influences @fitnesspeach. I do wonder if Meta will hide this image as “adult content” because a bit of cheek is exposed.

Fall from Grace

Thursday morning and I am driving to Alabama this afternoon. I slept well yesterday, but still got tired yesterday afternoon. I am almost finished with an editorial job, which hopefully I will get done tonight before I go to bed at the hotel. I didn’t do much of anything when I got home because I was tired; I just ran the dishwasher (I’d meant to turn it on before I left yesterday morning but didn’t) and repaired to the chair with my purring cuddle kitty and finished The Traitors Australia’s first season. There’s only one of those left and one season of New Zealand on Peacock, and then I am going to have to track down how to stream Canada’s. I am going to listen to Eli Cranor’s latest novel on the drive over and the drive back, and should finish the entire novel by the end of the weekend.

Sigh. I also didn’t pack last night, figuring I could do it after work. My original plan was to drive over this afternoon then drive home after the service tomorrow–old-timey thinking on my part; get it over and get home. Then I realized I have to take Friday off regardless, so why not drive back on Saturday morning? I also thought I’d only leave two hours early, and go from the office. (Dad pointed out that it was kind of nuts to drive back on Friday; which is when I realized how stupid I was being about this entire trip.) Instead I am going to leave work at noon, come home to do some chores and pack, and still get on the road around the time I planned originally to leave work. I don’t have to rush anymore, and rushing always amped up the stress in the pre-medicated days. Now I can just take my time and relax, you know? I can make a packing list this morning at the office and be organized better. I have things to do at the office today before I leave as well, but as long as I stay motivated, I can get everything finished before I head out.

Sigh. Here’s hoping, at any rate.

And it’s yet another messed up week for me; I think this is three or four in a row? There was the water main breaks affecting two separate Mondays and I was sick the Monday in between those two. This week is disrupted by an unexpected trip. But getting home Saturday afternoon will give me the chance to get things caught up, make groceries, and maybe do some cleaning and get the apartment back under control. I do feel like I am actually getting a grip or a handle on my life again…and I just remembered the Festivals are next weekend, too, so that’s not going to be a normal pair of weeks, either. Ah, well, maybe some sense of order will return to my life in April.

One most excellent thing that happened yesterday was a conversation in a group text with some friends led my mind to spiral into what the plot for the next Scotty and its title (French Quarter Follies), so I madly scribbled down some notes and now I know what Scotty XI (eleven???) will be; I was a bit worried because I hadn’t been able to come up with anything, other than I wanted it to be another swing at Carnival. That was kind of exciting; my creativity has been mostly limited to non-fiction (blog and newsletters) since I finished writing the last book and now I am starting to get some of the old creative ADHD back. I’ve not been able to harness and focus it yet, so I am letting it have free reign to bounce all over the place and see what happens. I think listening to Eli’s book on the drive will also kickstart me back into reading fiction again–and I think my next reread with be a Phyllis A. Whitney classic–my very first of her novels for adults, Listen for the Whisperer. (I love that title, too.) I need to complete my reread of The Egyptian Cat Mystery, too.

I also picked up a copy of Bob the Drag Queen’s novel Harriet Tubman: Live in Concert, based on recommendations by Kristopher Zgorski and Catriona McPherson, which I’d really like to dig into.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Thursday, and most likely won’t be back until Saturday when I get home, or may even wait until Sunday. Until then, au revoir.

It’s Only Love

Wednesday and halfway through the work week! Huzzah! Yesterday wasn’t terrible. The funeral plans for later this week are cemented and I’ll drive over on Thursday afternoon and back home afterwards on Saturday. I am going to listen to Eli Cranor’s Mississippi Blue 42 in the car going and coming, and then I can finish it off once I get home. Reading progress is reading progress, after all, even if it is listening, after all. I had slept well on Monday night, but I still hit a wall at work yesterday afternoon. I ran by the mail service to get the mail and had some groceries made and delivered, but was very happy to get home and feed the Sparkster, change into my sweats, did a load of dishes, and provide Sparky a warm lap for the evening. I’m still bingeing The Traitors (season 1, Australia, for those keeping track) and went to bed relatively early. I slept gloriously, and Sparky was even cuddled up with me when I woke up without the alarm (I forgot to set it as I climbed into bed last night). I am feeling good this morning so far, and my coffee tastes amazing. I don’t know how cold it is out there–today’s low is 44–but again it’ll be a layers day. I have to pack tonight–it just hit me that I am driving over tomorrow afternoon–when I get home from work. At least this drive isn’t up 59; I-10 to Mobile and then 65 north. I’ve not been this way in eons; the last time was my last book signing or event in Atlanta, whenever that was.

Heavy sigh.

I don’t think I’m going to be terribly busy today with clients at work, which is great because I have a lot of paperwork to get caught up on. I think when I get back on Saturday I won’t have any errands or anything to do that will require my leaving the house; I can always have things delivered, and I can stay home and rest and relax and try to get caught up more on everything. The Festivals are next weekend (!!!) and so I probably won’t get a lot done at all then, either. Where has March gone, seriously? I guess I lost track of days and time during this Traitors binge I’ve been on. Tomorrow I’ll come home before leaving town, so I can load up the car and head out. I should pass through Mobile before rush hour, and once I am on 65 N it will be an easy, simple drive. The drive home should be even easier. Woo-hoo! God, how anxious I used to get when driving out of town! It’s lovely having no travel anxiety any longer.

Then again, I’ve not flown anywhere in several years, have I? And really have no desire whatsoever to set foot on another plane at any other time soon, either. But I do know the last time I flew–I think for San Diego Bouchercon?–I primed myself and refused to get stressed or anxious, and I managed to succeed without the medication I was put on later for it! I do have a rather strong will when I want to, don’t I? I just don’t understand why I have so much trouble motivating myself and always default to being lazy. (Is it being lazy? I used to get yelled at a lot growing up for being lazy, but I was always reading, so maybe in my head I associate reading with being lazy? And since I am not really reading at the moment, I am definitely being lazy. But it’s also nice to relax my brain, too, you know?

I can literally justify or rationalize anything, can’t I?

And on that note–sorry to be so brief, but very little is actually going on at the moment, and my mind is consumed with finishing an editing project and getting ready for this drive tomorrow. I will be here tomorrow, but most likely not again until I get home on Saturday afternoon. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow morning.

BGEast wrestler Mitch Colby

No Questions Asked

Sunday morning and here we are, ready for another exciting and highly productive day. The world is still here (so far), and I am already on my second cup of coffee. I feel rested and relaxed, which is terrific, because I do have things I need to get done today. I basically took yesterday off from everything–no errands, few chores, no nothing–other than icing my calves and finishing the final available series of The Traitors from the UK. I’ll probably go ahead and watch Australia and New Zealand–others from around the world don’t seem to be available to stream anywhere, but I bet the German one would be bad-ass. I think I am going to spend the morning here in the kitchen, cleaning and organizing and writing some, before working on the living room and doing some editorial work. I don’t need to run any errands today, either–but may have a pizza delivered tonight for dinner. I also need to prepare lunches for the week. But I do feel good this morning, so we’ll see how it all goes, shan’t we?

I did write about my conflicting emotions on the unexpected loss of my friend Lauren Henderson, which you can read by clicking the blue. It did help me sort out the complicated feelings I’ve been experiencing since I woke up to the news the other morning (can people stop dying on me, please?), and once it was finished and posted I feel less unsettled about everything and could have a proper cry for her loss, which was cathartic. Highly recommended. I also spent some time Friday evening looking through old pictures of good times we’d had together–especially Italy–which was also lovely.

Sigh.

I guess the Oscars are tonight. I may have them on while I do something else (unlikely) tonight, but I am not staying up to see who wins the big prizes and can happily wait until tomorrow morning tp find out. I am hoping Sinners wins everything under the sun, including Best Actor for Michael B. Jordan, but I feel it’s going to be another The Color Purple night, where “See how liberal we are! Look at all those nominations!” will suffice. I never understood where the idea that Hollywood is liberal came from, when Hollywood collectively is as conservative as it gets–look at how few films there are that center anyone who’s not a cisgender straight white man–but like the news, it makes for a great conservative target–and they never care about whether their bitching is actually based in fact not feeling (fascinating, since they’re also the “fuck your feelings” crowd), as long as they can get mad and complain about something. I mean, look at our news media now! Years of calling it the “lamestream media” (thank you for that bon mot, quitter Palin) and “the liberal-biased media” worked, didn’t it? They kept watering down their content and anything the Right might consider “offensive” to them, and they happily fell into lockstep with MAGA. If this does ever end without the country glowing and in ashes, there’s so much work to repair the long-lasting damage they’ve done to the country that we might as well just let the whole thing collapse and start over. The system is too entrenched in white supremacy to work for anyone who doesn’t fit into their narrowly defined box of acceptability.

I do love the new iPad, by the way, and I love the magic keyboard that I bought to go with it. It functions much more like a laptop than my old one, and now I am not even sure what to do with the old one, other than wipe it and take it back into Apple, so they can refurbish it and resell it as used again. Is that credit worth driving back out to Metairie? Probably, because I’ll eventually need another accessory for all the Mac products I own.

I also have been feeling good about my writing ability again. I’ve been getting some praise for my work lately, which has been absolutely lovely–and needed, I think. With my anxiety medicated now, I am realizing that my Imposter Syndrome was another one of those symptoms that I was so used to that I never thought it would go away.1 I am good at what I do. Could I be better? Always–that is always the case with creative arts–but that doesn’t mean what I release out into the world is garbage, either.

It’s a nice feeling, really.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. I am going to make myself some breakfast and start cleaning up in here. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

The Acropolis in Athens lit up at night.
  1. Mind you, I am sure there will be flare-ups again, but the need for humility and not being outwardly proud of my accomplishments isn’t there any more…and if it is still there, it’s not as persistent; that awful little voice seems to be gone now. ↩︎

Candlebright

There was another water main break in Uptown Thursday–this time nearer to the Tulane campus–but it did not come with yet another boil water advisory this time. It really is awful the way the city’s infrastructure is crumbling below our feet. New Orleans is an impossible city in almost every way, but it’s also necessary, which is why we keep rebuilding and living here. It’s also one of the most unique and charming and lovely cities in this country. But despite being called “the Big Easy” (a name the locals hate and never use), it ain’t all that easy to live here, you know?

But it’s now Saturday morning and the day stretches out in front of me, full of possibilities. There are all kinds of drunken St. Patrick’s Day events going on everywhere today (including the Irisy working at home; driving to the Apple Store in Metairie to get a new iPad before stopping by Costco on my way back into the city. Much as I enjoy Costco–and it wasn’t crowded late yesterday when I was there. I lost my membership cards ages ago (Paul usually goes with me and we use his, but the Festivals are in a few more weeks so…), so had to get a new one, which was remarkably easy, and then I shopped my merry way to a ridiculous amount of money changing hands at the cash register. I came home, had to unload the car, and then put everything away and was exhausted by the time all of that was done, so I sank into my easy chair and watched a couple of episodes of you should know by now and then watched LSU Gymnastics against Arkansas, which was an incredible meet; LSU’s Kailin Chio got a 10 on the three apparatus (apparatii?) she competed on! So exciting! And the new iPad is lovely, if a bit frustrating (the number of passwords I had to reset…), and I am pleased with it. I can use it for writing, and its actually less cumbersome than the laptop (which will be seven years old this year). I was also doing the laundry (and there was a lot of it) all day, and I finished all stages of the dishes by unloading the dishwasher and putting everything away. I did wind up staying up later last night than I’d originally intended, but c’est la vie. I also slept later this morning, which was lovely and I feel rested this morning. My Achilles tendons are still tender, so I am going to ice them off and on all day.

I think today is going to be a mostly chill out, relax, and clean day. The apartment is a mess (Costco and iPad packaging debris–Apple’s packaging is very nice, but unnecessary) so I need to make several pilgrimages to the garbage cans this morning. I want to spend some time reading, and I am going to get up early tomorrow to get some work done–writing, emails, editing–as well as pack up the books I need to get in the mail. I am hoping to have a very good week next week; hopefully we won’t have a boil water advisory Monday, and I won’t be sick. Not sure what the deal has been lately with my Mondays, but it needs to stop!

I also did some reading–not much–last night; my reread of the juvenile Rick Brant Science Adventures’ The Egyptian Cat Mystery, and this time the racism and stereotypes–not to mention white condescension–just jumps off the page at me. The book was originally published in the 1961, the year I was born, and so it also very dated; there is no longer a United Arab Republic, for one example. But I should have expected a 1961 mystery for kids to have been chock full of the horrible societal ills of American exceptionalism–which will be an interesting take for the essay I plan to write when I finish this book. I am also looking forward to diving back into Eli Cranor’s latest, as well as Sarah Weinman’s new one.

I also know I am going to write about my friend who passed away this week, but I am still sorting my complicated feelings about that right now. I am trying to only remember the good memories, but some of the negative ones inevitably surface, and I am also trying to let go of that negativity. There’s no sense in holding onto any of that now that she’s gone, you know? But I know I’ll get there; maybe I should start writing it because it will sort my feelings–maybe not but it’s worth the old college try.

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

Gorgeous Taylor Zakhar-Perez, of Red White and Royal Blue fame.

Love’s a Hard Game to Play

Saturday in the Lost Apartment and a lovely weekend to be sure–despite the time change tomorrow, which I always hate–and I had a lovely night’s sleep, actually. I actually slept late this morning, which is wild; not arising from the pile of blankets and comfortable bed until almost nine thirty this morning. Progress, though, is thinking I must have needed more sleep rather than bashing myself for oversleeping. Sparky was also a sweetheart this morning and let me sleep until his hunger overcame him and he whimpered at me, making me open my eyes and look at the clock and think oh, need to get up, don’t I? I feel good this morning, if a bit foggy because the coffee hasn’t started kicking in yet, either. My plan for today was to take it easy and do more chores around reading (and yes, probably some time spent with The Traitors) since I didn’t get everything done yesterday that I wanted to–but the dishes and the laundry are finished. I need to run a brief errand today, too–a quick run by the Fresh Market on the way home from picking up the mail–and then I will be back home for the rest of the day. It was gorgeous outside yesterday as I ran from doctor’s appointment to doctor’s appointment (everything went well, all my vitals and so forth are okay, my blood pressure excellent, etc–always lovely news to hear, you know? Today looks gorgeous, too, which is pretty great; I think the cold is behind us now and it’s a steady march to our brief spring before the horrors of the summer heat return again.

Yesterday was mellow, honestly. I got up, got cleaned up, had my meeting and did some at-home work before i had to start the round of appointments. When I got home from all of that I started cleaning, while watching The Traitors when I took a little break. I also had some creative moments during the day, coming up with several short story ideas while my hands were busy but my mind free, and of course, Sparky imprisoned me for my lap so he could nap for several hours, but I still managed to get a lot of things done while trying not to disturb him; which I don’t get, he’ll just go back to sleep after giving me a groan and serious side-eye but why do I always feel guilty about waking him up? He really is a sweet boy, despite all the scabs and scars on my hands and arms from his claws. I also need to spend some time icing my Achilles tendons, which are still sore but it’s at least bearable now and I can walk normally again, thank God. Tomorrow will be my ambitious day, where I finish the things I didn’t get to today while writing and reading. I really need to finish my newsletter, and get it sent out.

I also definitely need to do some filing and organizing, and I need to find an old contract, too, and I need to find my to-do notebook, which I’ve not been able to look at this week because I didn’t know where it was (other than it not being in my backpack, where it belongs and should always stay) so I can add some things and cross off what I managed to get done this week. Starting the week off being sick really discombobulated me, and I never felt like I got my feet into the groove of the week. I hate that it’s so easy to throw me off and so hard for me to get back on track when my routines are disrupted.

I started season 2 of the UK Traitors yesterday, and it is really interesting how you quickly become involved with the cast, forgetting about the previous season’s in a matter of moments. I do think I like the UK host better than Alan Cumming; Claudia cheers them on during the challenges, and seems genuinely interested in them winning the challenges and adding money to the final prize. Thank you for putting up with this obsession of mine; I should stop talking about it and simply keep watching so I can write about the show for my newsletter.

And on that note, I am going to repair to my easy chair to catch up on the news before today’s errands are to be run. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning with the time change. Ugh.

Gorgeous door frame sculpture in Florence, one of my favorite places in the world

Nothing Ever Changes

Tuesday of our latest arctic blast, but all is comfy and warm inside the Lost Apartment, which is lovely. The dry heat used to bother me–it still bugs Paul–but I’ve adjusted to it and it’s not the worst thing in the world. I mean, we could have to be out protesting in the streets in below zero temperatures (Minnesotans are making me very proud to be American, because fuck this fascist bullshit, now and forever.) I even saw an anthology call for short stories yesterday with the theme American Gestapo and you can bet your ass I am going to write something for that call. I have more than a few things to say about the collapse of American democracy, and a lot of scorn for those who cheer the decline and fall. I, for one, never expected the Reich-wing flip-flop on carrying a gun and gun ownership1, but these are indeed the strangest of times. And now it looks like the siege of Minneapolis might finally be ending; Bovino the Temu SS officer has been fired, and hopefully, that disgusting pile of filth known as Kristi Noem will be thrown under the bus along with him. Was this third government execution of an American citizen a turning point? Maybe, at long last. (So far, they’ve killed a black man–most people don’t know that part; outrage grew over the white woman; and exploded over the white man…as it ever was and is and will be.)

I mean, when you’ve lost the NRA and Greg motherfucking Abbott, it’s really is time for some serious self-reflection, isn’t it?

It’s cold again this morning, but it’s going to warm up a little before the next arctic blast (worse than the first) arrives later this week. We’re talking single digit weather in New Orleans, of all places. It’s going to be a weird weekend. I am going to try to get everything errand-wise finished by Friday, so I can stay indoors from Friday evening to Monday morning. Tis very cold here in my bay windows this morning, but it was pleasant at work yesterday (as opposed to our last cold spell, when the office was freezing). I slept so well last night–that pile of blankets was incredibly warm and comfortable and cozy last night, and I really hated to get out from under them this morning. When I got home from my errands last night (I had also ordered some groceries for delivery, too), I changed into my home-clothes (sweatpants and a hoodie and slippers), and sat down in my chair to read for a bit and watch the news before doing some chores, but Sparky had other ideas. He plopped into my lap and went to sleep…and then I was so comfortable, between him and the blanket, that I really never got back up again, other than for something to drink or snacks. It was entirely too comfortable, really.

Yesterday wasn’t bad at work, either. I wasn’t in the clinic after all, so I spent the day doing Admin stuff and getting caught up on everything–I’m never really very behind on anything anymore, but letting things slide always gets me in trouble. We’re slow this week, too, so I should be able to be all caught up on office work by Thursday when I leave. Huzzah!

I also finished my first promotional newsletter for Hurricane Season Hustle, which you can read right here! I need to do at least another one–the book officially drops on February 10–and I am getting really behind on the newsletters, aren’t I? The goal was once a week, and I’ve strayed very far from that initial ideal/goal over the last couple of years. I have so many started….and I really need to get more done, especially since (as with everything) I keep getting more ideas for them all the time! Heavy heaving sigh. It’s very hard to get things done, though, when I’m cold–but I need to stop giving in to the easy laziness and power through, don’t I?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and stay safe and warm–especially those in Minneapolis and Maine. I’ll be back tomorrow!

  1. Funny how they change their tune on everything, isn’t it? Suddenly the people who need a fucking AK-47 to go get coffee at Starbucks claim if you carry a gun in public the cops or a federal agent can shoot you? But, no, we’re the brainwashed ones… ↩︎

Imperial Hotel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let Me Take You Home Tonight

Thursday morning of my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! Busy day, busy week, three day weekend, pruning books and working on the apartment and being writerly productive as well; I think I am procrastinating out of a fear of failure, which is part of the anxiety but stealth anxiety–a mental thing created by years of anxiety and almost constant stress. I hate when that happens. We’re also about to be hit by another cold front this weekend, with even a slight possibility of snow on Sunday morning. (!!!!) I am looking forward to another long weekend, although there won’t be another for awhile. I slept well last night, too. I am feeling a bit physically tired, but that’s no surprise since I haven’t gotten up at six for four days in a row since last month, I think. Who knows? I also am taking this coming Wednesday off, for a friend’s funeral, so next week is even lighter than usual. Ah, well.

We were busy yesterday in the clinic (this week has really been insanely busy; today too), and so I was a bit on the tired side when I got home last night after a couple of errands. Sparky and I hung out for a while, but I also got up and did some chores, too. I watched the first part of the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City reunion before going to bed–maybe that was why I slept so well? Hee hee, I doubt it; I should have had nightmares about women screaming at each other instead, but here we are. I don’t really remember much of it, so I may have to watch it again.

I’ve really been missing my friend Victoria lately. Victoria was always my go-to for the last almost thirty years for political conversations; she also loved history and studied it more than I do–she always got my references, and I always got hers, which was awesome and enjoyable as we complained about the state of the world and all its insanities. Every time something horrific happens (on the daily, really) I am tempted to email her before I remember that she’s gone, and that little pang comes back. I can only imagine the fiery pieces she would have written about Renee Good’s government sanctioned and approved murder. But on the other hand, I’m kind of glad she was too ill at the end to see what was going on in the country and she passed before it got worse…I’m kind of glad she didn’t live to see what the country she loved so much has become…ironically, after everything she’d seen and reported on, I was the cynical one of the two of us…we also used to say that evangelicals worshipped Republican Armani Jesus (RAJ) and their mentality was IOIYR–“it’s okay if you’re Republican.”

Damn, I miss her.

Another writer friend–Chris Muncie–died earlier this week, too; I hadn’t talked to Chris in well over a decade, but we co-edited an erotica anthology together and he also published some of my short fiction in his anthologies, and vice versa. I hate getting to the age where you start losing friends and family. Granted, I went through this before–thanks again, Ronald Reagan!–with HIV/AIDS, and maybe I was thinking in my subconscious that since I’d already seen so much death and experienced so much grief when I was younger that I wouldn’t have to go through it again as I aged? And maybe my present day grieving is colored by PTSD from my twenties and thirties? Back then, we just were so beaten down by all the death that, at least for me, I went numb inside and didn’t really feel anything for a long time. I probably should go back to therapy, shouldn’t I?

Heavy heaving sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you tomorrow on Work-at-Home Friday! And may everyone in Minneapolis stay safe, okay?

Sometimes tree branch clearance is a close call for floats!

Something About You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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