Category: editing

Runaway Lover

Thursday and it’s not my last day in the office for the week; I have a department meeting tomorrow that I need to come in for. I may stay for a few hours after and do some work here, but on the other hand I may just get back in the car and head home. I guess we’ll see how I feel, but it would be incredibly convenient to get all my errands out of the way. We’re supposed to start getting rain from Polo tomorrow, and continue with flooding rains all weekend…so I am not going to want to leave the house that often. I do have to go get my vaccines Saturday morning–I figured if they make me woozy again like they always do, it’s better to be home. LSU’s game is against McNeese State Saturday night–their fifth night game in a row–and I think a lot of the other games this season will be at night again. All the media alarm bells after the Mississippi loss subsided with the trouncing of Texas A&M last week, but…the remaining schedule remains brutal.

Well, Sparky closed my browser for me (thanks, babe!) and I lost three paragraphs of this entry which I will now try to reconstruct. Sigh.

I was tired when I got home from work yesterday, Sparky was needy, and I just needed to sit for a minute last night before doing anything, but I got sucked into the news–both national and football–and several wormholes (is it just me, but are Youtube videos becoming more and more AI-generated?) opened up for me before I switched over to this HBO documentary series about Warner Brothers–and old Hollywood stuff always works as research for the book. I went to bed shortly after that, and didn’t do a damned bit of chores at all. The apartment is still pretty well kept-up, but there’s some cosmetic cleaning that needs doing, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and reloaded again, and there’s another load of laundry that needs doing, too. I’ll have to take care of some of that tonight so this weekend I can primarily focus on writing and deeper cleaning issues (baseboards, etc.). The house is also currently being painted, so much as I would like to go outside in this cooler clime to clean the windows…probably not going to happen until the house is finished being painted. (I have to negotiate an obstacle course most days when I get home to get into the house.)

Today is also the first day of Halloween Horror Month, in which I try to make sure all my reading and streaming needs are horror-related. I know I am going to revisit Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street–always excellent choices–and it’s always fun to dip into horror, which I need to read more of. I am going to listen to Shadowland by Peter Straub on my trip next Friday to Alabama/Kentucky–can you believe it’s next week already? I can’t–and will take some other horror along to read while I am up there. I am going to start reading The House That Horror Built, and I think on the way home i may listen to a Grady Hendrix novel.

I also need to get back to writing, either on short stories or on the book. I’ve been focusing a lot on writing nonfiction–the newsletters–and while I have really been enjoying doing that (and my writing is improving, which is always a delightful thing), I need to get back on the fiction horse. I’ve kind of been letting my creativity recharge, after finishing that story last weekend, but I definitely need to be climbing back into the saddle again. Maybe tomorrow, during the rains. We’re supposed to get up to five inches over the next few days–but we shouldn’t have any flooding concerns if the rain is spread out. Five inches in two hours or less and the city is underwater.

And on that note, methinks I shall head into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely Friday Eve, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before my meeting. See you then!

My God, Alan Ritchson is just ridiculously handsome.

Nobody’s Perfect

Tuesday morning and we survived Monday, did we not? It wasn’t a terrible day. WE were busier than usual in the clinic, so the day passed relatively quickly. I also made an appointment to get my flu and COVID shots for the year for this Saturday; if I am going to react to them, what better way to do so then in my easy chair while watching college football and dipping some more into The Dead Zone? That will also get me out of the house on Saturday, so I may as well run other errands while I am out. I have an in-person meeting Friday, so I am probably going to do all my hours in the office–at least, that’s what I am thinking today; that may change between now and then. Paul went to the gym last night shortly after I got home, so when he got home from that we queued up this week’s Lanterns, which was wild; I really do enjoy this show and not just because Aaron Pierre and Kyle Chandler are very good looking men. It doesn’t hurt, though; I’m not saying that! But it’s very well written, acted, and produced; perhaps the best DC television series I’ve ever seen (I may not be remembering some others, but I don’t think so). I slept very well last night and feel a bit Tuesday-ish this morning, but not terribly bad.

I checked the call for submissions for the story I finished over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised to see the deadline isn’t Thursday, but rather the 31st. That relieves some of the pressure to get it finished and polished, but doesn’t mean I should wait until the last minute, either. I know there are tense and point of view issues with it, so what I am thinking is I should let it sit until this weekend–something else I can do in case I have a reaction to the shots is edit the hard copy with post-it notes and a yellow highlighter. (Yes, I am old school.) I am also glad I checked because the word limit is four thousand, not five. The story checks in now at 4126 words, so it needs tightening for sure. I also got caught up on emails yesterday, which was a very lovely thing. I don’t know why I am so reluctant to deal with emails these days, but I imagine it has everything to do with the hundreds of emails I used to get weekly: who knew volunteer work came with PTSD? I sure didn’t.

I know now. Lesson learned. I eventually always figure it out; it may take me years, but I do.

Today is a slow one in the clinic, so I should be able to get caught up on administrative details. I can also tell I’m feeling better, physically and mentally, because I am keeping up with my paperwork and everything. I finally have a system, and it works beautifully; much better than the disorganized and inefficient way I was doing it–and it was, indeed, a rut I felt into while I wasn’t in top form and just surviving every day (I don’t longingly dream of retirement anymore, either), which was a deeply unpleasant way to live.

I also scheduled a newsletter for this morning; you can click here to read it. I have been working on this one for a very long time; it’s about the incidents that led to me writing #shedeservedit, and what I was trying to do with the book. The Cornell situation pushed me back to the essay and I finished it; I held off on sending it out because I didn’t want anyone to think I was trying to promote the book off the back of that poor victim, but talking about the book and why I wrote it isn’t promoting it; it’s about exploring a major societal issue we don’t seem terribly interested in solving: men’s entitled expectations towards women’s bodies: an unconscious woman isn’t an invitation for rape.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

Don’t Tell Me

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and I feel…slacker-ish this morning for some reason. Yesterday was a simply lovely day, from beginning to end, and I did manage to get some things done. Paul went to a show last night in the Quarter–a work thing–and so I was here all by my lonesome after about half-time or so of the LSU game (they won; GEAUX TIGERS!), and there were a lot of interesting games and outcomes yesterday, too. I did some reading, some writing, and some cleaning, and somehow wound up staying up later than I’d intended. I also got up later this morning than usual; but that’s also on me. The Saints play this afternoon, and I need to run to make groceries at some point this morning, too, but that’s not a big deal. I just need to get motivated.

Good luck with that, Gregalicious.

As I mentioned, LSU won, beating Texas A&M handily 35-6. It was only 14-3 at halftime, but again the Tigers had a big third quarter and put the game away. The defense looked impressive, and the offense misfired a few times, but overall, the Tigers looked dominant. We also don’t know how good or bad Texas A&M is this season (they lost to Kentucky in College Station last week)–but we also don’t know about Mississippi, either, after Florida embarrassed them in Gainesville yesterday 52-28 (!!!). Auburn beat Vanderbilt, and I caught the end of the Mississippi State-Missouri game, which MSU won with a strong defensive stand in the fourth quarter. I watched Texas-Tennessee, which came down to the last play, and Georgia embarrassed Oklahoma (shame) while Alabama buried South Carolina. I also caught the highlights of Iowa winning at Michigan and Wisconsin surprising Penn State. Overall, a very exciting day of college football. LSU takes a break from the SEC next weekend, playing McNeese State, while there are some other great games, too. I do love college football.

And yes, yesterday morning during the battle of the orange-and-white UT’s, I finished the first draft of my story, which pleased me to no end. It’s about forty-one hundred words, but they are mostly good words, and now I need to edit and revise. Again, it’s a very long shot, but I do enjoy writing, and it’s always nice to make very good progress on something. I may do some editing this morning after I post this and before I summon the energy and motivation to actually make the grocery list and head to the store. I also need to order some things to be delivered this morning, too.

While I mostly managed to avoid the news yesterday, I did occasionally check in on social media to see what was going on and that’s when I came across the horrific story of the Cornell 7….remind me about the masculinity crisis again? The real masculinity crisis lies in how they treat women, and so many of them fail. Cannot IMAGINE why so many women would choose the bear, can you? It’s hilarious, I’ve been trying to work my way into my newsletter essay about masculinity and my failures to be the traditional male in this patriarchical society and finally realize something about myself while reading up on the Cornell horror (and yes, there’s a rapist on the LSU football team–which is appalling–but I am not talking about that case because I’ve not had a chance to “do my own research,”–but I fail to see any research or reading that would make LSU look good, frankly)–the reason I didn’t feel particularly boy-oriented was because I never understood why we weren’t supposed to like girls at all, and that didn’t change after puberty, either, when girls were reduced to their breasts, ass, and fuckability, which is also part of the reason I wrote #shedeservedit, and now I have some more things to discuss there. (And no, I’m not saying my view of women wasn’t curdled by exposure to male-centering and women-dismissal; I’ve said and behaved in ways towards women that are toxic, but I learned and would like to believe I’ve unlearned a lot of my upbringing and social pressuring.)

I spent some more time yesterday with The Dead Zone, and John Smith is one of my favorite Stephen King characters. I am remembering, too, while I reread how much I’ve always loved this novel and how big of a fan I used to be (not getting into it now, or maybe ever), and that incredible run of great novels he had from Carrie through Misery. Maybe I should revisit another one, too? It’s been a while since I’ve revisited Firestarter….

I was reminded yesterday also about Richard Speck. He murdered nurses in Chicago when I was five years old, and I remember the horror vividly (I also remember when the news broke about Sharon Tate and the other victims on Cielo Drive in the Hollywood Hills). I’ve never read up on the Speck murders, but I read Helter Skelter as a teenager and it was terrifying–I’ve generally avoided reading anything else on the Manson family since. I remember, in both cases, how upset my mother was–a rural country girl living in Chicago with generalized anxiety disorder–and again wonder how much it must have terrified her when we weren’t home. Mothers worry, of course, but I wish I’d known when she was alive about the anxiety; I would have worked harder to ease her mind. (I also believe the anxiety shortened her life, but…she did make it to eighty-one.) Does anyone know of any good books or writing about Speck?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and GEAUX SAINTS!

Candy Perfume Girl

Here we are on a college football Saturday1 (GEAUX TIGERS!) and all is quiet in the Lost Apartment. I ran errands yesterday, got the mail, picked up my copy of the new Tananarive Due (yay! Hello, October Halloween Horror Month!), and after working at home, I did the laundry and cleaned up around here–somehow the kitchen had somehow gotten out of control again–while the Real Housewives screamed at each other on my television. I don’t know why I find that so entertaining, but I do and I am not apologizing for it. (And yes, I am going to write about it at some point.) We also watched The Traitors: New Blood and started the new American Horror Story: 13, which hurray for Jessica Lange, and hurray for Joey Pollari, who is playing the male lead–been a fan since catching the young openly gay actor in American Crime, an excellent anthology series from the 10s that didn’t draw near the audience it deserved for its writing and incredible cast, which included Regina King in every season. (I’ll watch Regina King in anything.)

I also went back through the book cases and massive TBR stacks to pick out an ambition list of reading for October, especially given how little I’ve been reading lately. My rereads are going to be The Dead Zone (long overdue for a reread, at least since 2016) by Stephen King and The Amityville Horror by Jay Anson. The new to me reads, if I manage, will be Christina Henry’s The House that Horror Built, A House with Good Bones by T. Kingfisher, and Shadowlands by Peter Straub, which I’ve never gotten around to in the forty years and more it’s been available (people always say their favorite Straub is Ghost Story; mine is Floating Dragon); I started it when it was first out in paperback, but never finished. I guess it didn’t grab me, but I grabbed another copy when I read a really interesting piece about it sometime earlier this century. (I also met Straub at Stokercon in Nassau, Long Island at least fifteen or sixteen years ago–the same conference I first met a pre-Gone Girl Gillian Flynn. Both were delightful and charming.)

I actually started my reread of The Dead Zone, and while I only got a few pages into the prologue, I was immediately reminded of why I love King, and that Johnny Smith is probably one of my favorite King characters, and while this book was always overshadowed in my mind by The Stand, which is my favorite King, as the books were released consecutively. I remember back when King was still a new writer and unappreciated by critics and reviewers while his books were literally flying off the shelves–one of my English professors in college, was very disdainful when he noticed I was carrying a copy of Firestarter with me, again shattering any thought I may have had about pursuing English as an undergraduate major because the professors were the worst kinds of snobs and my fellow English majors put no thought into their reading or analysis that wasn’t spoon-fed to them by the professors, whose egos definitely needed stroking (they all had mediocre minds).2 The irony is that while King has always done work of the highest quality, he was unappreciated while he was doing his actual best work. That run of novels, beginning with Carrie and ending with It, is probably unmatched by any other author in the canon of US authors; certainly in horror and crime….and those earlier works stand the test of time; I’ve reread all of those books numerous times.

Yes, a revisitation of a King classic is de rigeur.

Yesterday was a stunningly beautiful day. When I walked out to the car to run said errands, I was amazed at how gorgeous is was outside: warm but not excessively hot, and a coolness to the air that was very refreshing. Then I got in the car, started her up and looked at the temperature gauge and laughed. It was 86 degrees outside–but it wasn’t humid, which makes all the difference. (It’s currently 77 degrees outside; the kind of weather where you want to sit outside and read….or would, if I had a comfortable place to sit outside and read.) This is how the summer breaks us here. Anyway, as I drove around I was reminded again of how beautiful this city actually is, and again how lucky I am to live here so I can be continually inspired by this stunningly beautiful city.

I ordered myself a pair of Apple Beats Pro to finish off the gift card Dad sent me for my birthday. One of the most annoying thing to me about the new iPhone I got last year was that wired earbuds don’t work when plugged into them–and besides, I can’t use earbuds and my hearing aids at the same time. The other night when Paul came home I realized he uses over-the-ear headphones that wirelessly connect to his phone and a long overdue lightbulb turned on over my head. I can use over the ear headphones too, so I went ahead and ordered them. They came this week, but alas, I haven’t had time to set them up yet, so I intend to do that this morning. Just in time, too–since the weather has changed (hopefully for good) and I can go for walks now with them. My goal is to go back to the gym in January, and I need to start building up my stamina before that return.

At this point, kicking Ed Sheeran when he’s down is a bit mean and bullying, but I did laugh when his shows at Kraft’s stadium wound up canceled because of this huge nor’easter heading for New England, which has me worried about my friends up there. Take care everyone, don’t take unnecessary chances, and stay safe up there, okay?

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines for the day. Hope you have a marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be here bright and early before the Saints game tomorrow. See you then!

Love this image of birds over a bayou near Lake Borgne.
  1. Very bad news for the Tennessee Vols, though–Trump is coming to their game with Texas today, and wherever he goes, the home team loses. I don’t like either team, but will watch and hope for a good game. ↩︎
  2. My college experience remains the biggest disappointment of my life. I expected so much more than a continuation of high school, you know? But…I also went to two really shitty colleges. ↩︎

To Have and Not to Hold

Friday work at home day blog and here I am in the Lost Apartment, sipping coffee in between the windows. Sparky’s sleeping in a puddle at my feet and I am very excited for the day and the weekend. There are some excellent games to watch on Saturday (GEAUX TIGERS!), and of course, tonight there’s a new episode of Traitors: New Blood, which I can’t wait to see. After bingeing so many seasons, it really is torturous having to wait a week for a new episode. Heavy sigh, but that’s okay, really. Bingeing has really changed how I watch television, hasn’t it? We had started the new season of The Gentleman on Netflix last week, but despite the appeal of one Theo James (Christ, there should be a law against being that pretty), I didn’t get into the season 2 premiere, and haven’t exactly been itching to get back to it for some reason. I was thinking I might go back and watch the earlier seasons of The White Lotus so I’m not mindlessly scrolling through Youtube videos. It’s not only addictive, but it’s time consuming.

I worked more diligently on the short story last night, and almost have my new first draft finished (even though I am using the same title, the same story but with a different perspective, which I think is working). I am pretty pleased with it; it’s a very strong draft I should be able to get finished later today. It’s amazing how much I enjoy writing, but my process has changed–as I have changed–and it takes me longer to write than it used to. I used to be able to average about three thousand1 per writing day when working on a book; short stories are a different animal, but I don’t remember it taking me this long to complete a first draft of a short story; it’s a do-over of one I finished years ago but couldn’t place anywhere, so I tore it all apart and put it back together completely differently. I personally think it works better now, but I won’t be surprised if the anthology I am writing it for doesn’t accept it. Not that it isn’t good, but it’s not the kind of crime story people usually are looking for when compiling an anthology of them.

When Paul got home last night, we finished watching a documentary called A Killer Story, which is wild; true crime documentaries are absolutely terrifying to watch, especially when you see how easily a prosecutor can convict someone entirely on a theory with little to no evidence to corroborate their theory of the crime. Documentaries, though, can easily be manipulated to convince the viewer of their point of view, something I’ve noticed before. (One of Americans’ biggest fears is wrongful imprisonment, along with not being believed; being wrongly accused of murder and put on trial is definitely terrifying.)

I slept pretty well last night, even if Sparky got me up before seven. I’m a bit physically tired this morning–the Achilles tendons again–but I know once I get cleaned up I’ll feel more recharged. I have a meeting this morning, after which I am going to go run some errands. It being 9/25, the Krewe of Dolly is having a second line in the Quarter today for our departed Queen, Dolly Parton. If I could walk that far, I might have gone down to participate; it’s the kind of fun thing New Orleans loves to do at the drop of a hat. I also saw last night that Jamie Davis has come within four points of beating Julia Letlow, the Harkonnen and janky governor endorsed corrupt piece of MAGA shit, and Louisiana is getting fed up with all of this bullshit. Turnout will be key in Louisiana; if the Bill Cassidy supporters who are still pissed over the MAGA turn on him don’t vote, or vote for Davis…we could have our first Democratic senator from Louisiana in over twelve years. The data centers in north Louisiana and the spaceport on the coast and all the NDA’s everyone involved signed (Letlow owns stock in both companies) so the sweetheart deals Janky Jeff gave them will never be exposed has even Louisiana voters, notoriously blasé about political corruption, aren’t happy about how blatant this all is…it’s so blatant it’s insulting. And the way Janky Jeff keeps fucking with the LSU athletic department isn’t good, either.

I am cautiously optimistic about the midterms, but know there’s going to be some fuckery involved.

And on that note, I am going to have some breakfast and take a shower before starting my work day. I’ll run errands this morning after our meeting, and then come home from that to sit in my chair and go over paperwork this afternoon. The coffee is starting to kick in, too. So, on that note, tis off to mine spice with me, and will return again tomorrow morning. Have the loveliest of Fridays, Constant Reader!

Ah, the beauty of youth. But they just look like pretty children to me.
  1. On the other hand, last night I managed over two thousand words, which wasn’t bad.
    ↩︎

Sky Fits Heaven

Thursday last day in the office for the week blog. Yesterday wasn’t unpleasant; I paid the bills, as one does once one has the funds, and it was very quiet around the office yesterday, which was odd. I didn’t feel terribly tired at any point during the day, which is always a pleasant surprise. October and Spooky Season are just around the corner, and I think I will go ahead and enjoy my annual October Halloween Horror Month. I generally reread The Haunting of Hill House and a classic Stephen King every October, but my reading focus just hasn’t been there for a while. I think it might be because I am out of practice with both writing and reading, and every time I start reading something I think oh I should be writing and that brings me to a crashing halt, every time. My copy of the new Tananarive Due should be arriving today or tomorrow; so I am definitely going to read that for Horror Month. I need to look through my horror TBR pile, and maybe I should give Peter Straub’s Shadowland another try. (I started it when it had just been released in mass market paperback, and for some reason it didn’t click with me; maybe I can listen to it in the car on my drive north next year, take the physical copy with to keep reading if I don’t finish it in the car…should see how long it is, shouldn’t I?)

I was a bit tired after getting home from running errands last evening–my headphones arrived; more on that later–and putting away the paltry and meager bags of groceries I’d made for sixty dollar, heavy sigh, and things were on sale–and so I made a Sparky bed out of my lap while I caught up on the news and watched some videos bashing Ed Sheeran (which will, at some point, I imagine, get old) before Paul got home late, and we hung out for a bit before I went up to bed. I slept well, too–woke up at four rather than three thirty this morning, but was able to get back to sleep without a problem. I feel alert and awake and ready to go, which is quite unusual for Thursday morning. I’ve even had breakfast already and feel pretty good. Today is the busiest day in the clinic for the week, and so I imagine I’ll be a bit worn down when I get home tonight. I am going to head uptown to get the mail, so I won’t, hopefully, have to get in the car this weekend. Huzzah for the convenience of deliveries!

I did work on my short story some yesterday–not as much as I would have preferred, but my mind was buggy and I was tired, so I really just started revising what I had already written, which was more than a little bit on the messy side. I am trying to write more fiction in the present tense, which seems to be more common/popular these days, and my sweet spot is past tense/first person…so trying things differently, I think, is kind of important to my continued development as a writer. Anyway, I noticed the prose sometimes slipped from present to past tense, and sometimes even from first person to third. Honestly, my first drafts are so fucking dreadful….which is why nobody ever sees my first drafts.

It’s in the seventies this morning, which will have to do for the transition to fall. They’re saying we’ll get colder weather and a lot of rain next week, which is fine.

And on that note, I should get going on my day. I’ll be here again tomorrow morning, from my workspace at home, and I hope to see you then, Constant Reader.

Skin

Well, we survived Monday, didn’t we? It wasn’t even iffy this time. I woke up before my alarm yesterday morning, only hit snooze once, and then got up, wide awake and feeling rested (Sunday I was still feeling a bit worn out, not sure why), but I felt very good all day yesterday. I ran a couple of errands after work on my way home, which was nice. We weren’t terribly busy yesterday so I was able to get caught up on some things around the office, and somehow tomorrow we get paid again? It seems like we did just get paid, you know. And it’s almost October, and we’re well on our way into football season. I feel pretty good this morning, now that I’ve got some coffee and my breakfast sandwich into my system and my body is going oh yes, we like how this feels. I also ran some errands on my way home, but Sparky was very needy when I got home. He didn’t even want to be fed until I’d picked him up and let him wrap around my neck while headbutting me and purring. After he ate, he wanted my lap (he’s so needy after he’s not been home alone all day for a few days) and so I thought let me catch up on the news but once he was asleep in a puddle in my lap, I was done for the evening. When Paul got home we caught up on Lanterns–which is really phenomenal and may be the best super-hero TV show of all time–and then we started a Spanish language show, Oasis, which is the same kind of show as Elite was, only with a summer spa/resort in the place of the school. I guess it’s more The White Lotus?

Tonight I have to swing uptown to get the mail, and may stop to get some things on the way home; we need some bananas (they get so overripened so quickly these days) and maybe some ice cream as a treat? We’ve not had anything like that in a while–we’re consciously trying to be more healthy, food-wise–so maybe, maybe not. I’ll see how I feel once I get in the car and to the store. The weather is still scorching during the day, topping out around 100 or thereabouts, but it’s dropping into the seventies at night. This is what passes for fall here in New Orleans, or football weather, at any rate. I know next month is when we’ll experience the big drop, down into the seventies/low eighties during the day but dipping into the sixties overnight, and sometimes colder. I doubt we’ll get snow this winter, when it finally comes, but you never know anymore, do you?

I see that Jaxson Dart got injured last night1, the day after Aaron Rodgers did. Shame that karma came for you both; I wonder whatever for? What could either quarterback have done that would…oh, who cares. Fuck them both. I don’t waste empathy on garbage.

I am going to try to be productive today, since I failed so miserably last night. I need to empty the dishwasher and reload it, pick up things in the kitchen, take out the trash, and straighten the rugs. I made lunch for the rest of the week this morning, so that’s taken care of for now. Outside of the bananas, I don’t think we really need anything else….maybe I should just stop at the grocery in the CBD on my way home from work tomorrow? I don’t know. Decisions, decisions, right?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning!

The Krewe of Dolly is anchoring the second-line on 9-25.
  1. Can a Congressional investigation be far behind? ↩︎

Nothing Really Matters

LSU lost last night to Mississippi, and wow–the world didn’t end. It was disappointing, to be sure, but I don’t go on the emotional roller coaster that I used to, and that’s a much better way to be a football fan, methinks. No need to foam at the mouth or jupup and down or scream at the television. There weren’t many surprise outcomes yesterday, other than Kentucky beating Texas A&M, right after the Aggie crowd cheered Pete Hegseth, and why was he even there in the first place? Remember, the UT fans booed and embarrassed Ted Cruz, and won. Everything they touch dies, seriously. Alabama needed a hot minute before pulling away from Florida State, the Georgia-Arkansas game was so bad I couldn’t watch, and it sounds like Florida-Auburn came down to the wire, maybe being even the best game of the weekend. (I also didn’t know before that Lane Kiffin had played at Fresno State, either.) The Saints game with Baltimore is on at eleven this morning, and I’ll probably turn it on while do other things; I did a lot of cleaning yesterday while Paul was out, which was nice and very overdue.

I really do like this being old meaning you have less fucks to give about shit. No one told me about this side-effect of getting older…maybe I’ve finally become wiser? Nah, not likely. Just don’t really have any extra energy lying around that I can waste on things that really doesn’t matter anymore, or things I can’t control. (I always tried not stressing out about things I can’t control, but before medication, that wasn’t the way my brain was wired.) Hence, not being angry or super-disappointed about LSU losing last night. I’m still going to watch games every weekend; part of the fun of being a football fan is seeing how the season plays out–which is the more graceful and adult way to approach the season.

I did manage to reread The Stepford Wives yesterday, while taking breaks from cleaning and game-watching during the earlier games of the day. I had just revisited the book and wrote about it last year on this blog; I may write about it on the newsletter today, I don’t know. But there are other points to be made about the book and films, and I can go in more depth in the newsletter than I could with this blog. Ira Levin was absolutely one of the greats, and what he was able to do in his novels with so few words was a gift from the gods. I hate that I am unable to focus enough to read something new; I am going to try again this morning with The Shards. I also want to reread The Miracle at St. Bruno’s as a way in to talk about the Tudors and all the reading about them I used to do, and of course, Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree is also sitting there in my Kindle.

I also watched this week’s Real Housewives of Orange County, which keeps limping along and somehow escaping cancellation. The new season of The Traitors has also already dropped its first episode, and hey announced the cast for the next season of celebrity Traitors for the US, and it includes Bianca del Rio! That news more than makes up for them casting MAGA skank and Charlie Kirk worshipper Kristen Chenowith, who is probably trying to rebuild her image after she revealed her true skank self last year. I’d want to be a traitor in that season just to make her the first murder.

And on that note, I am going to get more coffee and repair to the easy chair for a bit, so I can wake up a bit more and do some reading. I also hope to write today, too, so we’ll see how all that goes, won’t we? I will, however, see you again tomorrow morning bright and early before I head to the office. Till then, have a marvelous Sunday however you spend it.

This is what we call in Louisiana an allée–a straight unpaved pathway through. matching trees or shrubs. It’s a very fun word that I want to use more.

Substitute for Love

Friday morning work at home day, with a trip to Costco on the horizon for later. I feel good and rested this morning, despite the fact Sparky tried to get me up around four in the morning for some reason. I did wake up, gave him a look, and went back to sleep while he cuddled with me, which was lovely. I was physically tired when I got home from work last night, so didn’t do much of anything other than writing. I did managed to get a (very) rough draft of that pesky chapter–which still needs some work–which has kind of log-jammed me these past few weeks. My goal for tomorrow is to edit everything I have done so far, preparatory to moving on to the next chapter and reacquainting myself with the characters, the voice, and the story. Woo-hoo! There are also a lot of great football games tomorrow, capping off with the one-two punch night games of Florida-Auburn and LSU-Mississippi.

The amazing thing to me about this Ed Sheeran thing is that it keeps going, and every day and hour it continues to go on the worse he looks. That’s what happens eventually when you’re more interested in being inoffensive–you wind up offending everyone. The fact that so many people he’s friendly with (and works with) are in the Epstein files kind of shows how morally and ethically compromised he is. When I was watching the news last night, I saw someone–I don’t remember who–talking about how entertainers, like Sheeran, are the modern day version of “bread and circuses” from the old Roman Empire (first time I have thought about the Roman Empire in days, if not weeks, for those keeping track–entertaining the populace and keeping our minds off everything else going on in the world. They keep us distracted (look at social media sometimes; it’s why there’s so much celebrity worship) so we will spend money and not see what the Epstein Class has done (and continues doing) to the world and society. Ed Sheeran got very rich doing his part to entertain and not talk about anything substantial (although the white children of Ukraine got him to be political)–he even says it in his pitiful “it’s not my fault” Pilate handwashing statement (“I want to provide a space for love and peace and escape”)…that’s very telling–and it’s hard to look at any of this and think Sheeran has any values, has any compassion or empathy or is, at heart, a decent person. He fucked over a friend at the bidding of a billionaire, has tried to deflect his part in this from day one, taken no responsibility for anything, and shows that he stands for nothing but the Epstein class he continues to make money for.

Does that sound like someone we should support? Christ, Ireland hates him now.

This entire situation is a classic example of what is fucking wrong with this country: a billionaire who diddled kids got his widdle fee-fees hurt, and he stamped his foot in anger and demanded he get his way, and he got it. They are above the law, an unelected and unchosen ruling class no different from the old British aristocracy, entitled fools with too much money who didn’t give a fuck about anyone other than themselves, while people went hungry and sick and died while they gambled away small fortunes at night while too drunk to see.

And the fact that both Sheeran and Robert Kraft are too privileged to shut up and stop digging their own graves just adds fuel to the fire. Sheeran went along with the silencing and suppression of a voice because it upset a billionaire.

That tells me everything I need to know about the Gingerdoodle.

And that’s it on this subject1–I’ve given too much time and energy to this nonsense already, but this naked abuse of money and power is infuriating to me, and always will be.

Ah, the coffee is now kicking in. I want to get another newsletter finished this weekend, clean out my email inbox, and of course, work on the book some more after I get my work duties done today. Costco and the other errands will undoubtedly wear me out, so I won’t do much tonight when I get home from all of that, other than finishing the laundry which I am starting this morning. I know the new season of The Traitors dropped its first episode last night, and there’s something else starting up again that I like watching, but can’t think of it right now. I also want to read a bit this weekend–which reminds me! The other day I mentioned a copy of The Miracle at St. Bruno’s, and I said there would be more later…and forgot.

The Miracle at St. Bruno’s is a historical Gothic set during the turbulent reign of Henry VIII and the great divorce–and how what was going on at court politically affected those every day citizens who had no control over the ever-changing legality of, well, everything. The Tudors were my real entryway into world history (or rather, modern European history) because Henry VIII was such a fascinating monster. I read a lot of Tudor biographies, but the only historical fiction I had read up to that point was mostly fictionalized biographies–history as entertainment–of royal Tudors. I even read a biography of Lady Margaret Douglas, one of the lesser known but crucial pieces of the Tudor body politic and the very thin line of succession that Tudor sterility caused. Philippa Carr was the by-line on the book, but it was another psuedonym of Eleanor Hibbert, a British writer who also published under the names Victoria Holt and Jean Plaidy. It was vastly different from another other Gothic I’d read, taking place over the course of about thirty to forty years, with the turbulent reigns of successive Tudor vastly differentiating in their religion and policy. It was also the first in a series called Daughters of England, because she wrote about the main character in Miracle’s sequel–each new book a new Gothic romance featuring the daughter of the previous book’s main character–and history and politics are also driving forces in those books as well. I may start a reread this weekend; I need to get back to reading fiction again.

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

Live oak stumps always fascinate and sadden me. The size is impressive, and they are beautiful to look at…but the sadness is from the tree being cut down. Our live oaks are so beautiful here in New Orleans, and we’ve lost so many in the thirty years we’ve lived here.
  1. I do love watching people reap what they’ve sown, you know? ↩︎

Drowned World

And here it is, Tuesday morning, and I feel pretty decent. I slept better last night than I have in a while, which was lovely, and comfy as the bed was this morning, I got up and wasn’t tempted to stay in bed longer than I could or should. Sparky wasn’t too hungry this morning, because he didn’t even come up before the second time I hit snooze. I didn’t do much of anything last night after I got home from work; I should have made groceries (or had some delivered) but it was 100 degrees when I got into the car to come home yesterday afternoon and it just sucked all the life out of me before I put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb. Ah, well. I also didn’t do much of anything once I got home, either; I plopped down into my easy chair and Sparky curled up in my lap and that was it for the evening. I caught up on the news, started watching another episode of Scream Queens, which I interrupted when Paul came down to eat and we watched the latest Lanterns. I really love that show; it may be one of the best super-hero TV shows of all time; definitely up there with Agatha All Along, which was amazing.

And while I may not have done any writing yesterday, I did think about what I am writing right now, which is always a good thing, and far better than actually not thinking about it at all. I should be able to get this hellish transitional chapter finished tonight or tomorrow, and then I can move on to the next chapter. And yes, I just remembered I always have problems with Chapter Five. Sigh. It’s amazing how much we forget how painful writing a book can be whenever we start writing another week; helpful selective amnesia, much as how we here in New Orleans forget every year how bad summer can be; every year it’s like a horrific reminder, and the same goes with writing a book, especially when your only deadline is your own, you know? Contractual deadlines are entirely different kind of stress and aggravation, but much as I always worry when I sit down to write that words aren’t going to come, or that I’ll veer away from the story I am telling (it’s easy when your mind wanders as much as mine does), and while I always hate having to cut good writing out of my work because it doesn’t fit, no matter how pretty the language is (“kill your darlings”), sometimes it is necessary. (Right now I am resisting cutting this opening sentence for the chapter: There’s nothing better than a nap after some intense fucking. I love that sentence.)

Ah, my coffee is kicking in and I am feeling pretty good and awake and cheerful now (I know, right? What is wrong with me?) ; we’ll see how the rest of the day goes, shan’t we? We’re not terribly busy in the clinic this morning, so I should be able to get some of the paperwork done that I need to get done around my appointments. My new testing room is taking some getting used to, because I always have had my clients sit to my right when I am testing them; now they are on my right and the entire room is geared to the left instead of the right, which is taking me some getting used to; it’ll probably feel normal to me by the end of this week. Changes of habit aren’t easy when you’ve been doing something almost exactly the same way for twenty years, you know?

The news continues to be grim, and while I see many people being excited about a blue wave, that’s not taking into condition the possibilities that there will again be election shenanigans, or election outcome shenanigans. We’re already well on our way down the path to authoritarianism; it’s now a question of what will be left to rebuilt from once this administration and its un-American treason. (Interesting how the presidencies regarded by historians as the most corrupt in our history always has an R after their name, isn’t it? Grant, Harding, Nixon, Bush II, and now this thing.) I also believe two things about yesterday’s dialing back of AI by the plagiarists who want to make “thinking machines’; one, that the money dried up and it’s all about to crash and take the economy with it, and two, they’ve finally realized they can’t contain it, and that technology, in the wrong hands, is extremely dangerous. (Has no one at all ever watched the original Terminator movie, or Blade Runner, or The 100, or read Dune? Christ, even Azimov killed off all the robots in the universe except for one!)

Oh, I did finish writing a newsletter about Flipper, which is scheduled to go out tomorrow morning. I have to say, I am enjoying myself writing these newsletters, and I am slowly but surely beginning to feel more confidence about writing them, which is a really good thing, methinks. The fiction I’ve been writing at a snail’s pace is also much better than things I’ve done over the last six or seven years–or at least, I feel much better about them. I feel more confident about writing in general, I think; it’s just a matter of reining everything back it and focusing on getting things done.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hope you have a great day, thanks as always for stopping by, and hope to see you again tomorrow.

Those boots? With THAT bandanna? Gurrrrlllll…