Sweet Surrender

Well, we survived. I can’t speak for the rest of the city or state, but we managed to even maintain our Lower Garden District hurricane privilege and didn’t lose either power or cell service. I know there was a lot of flooding in the city, and a lot of power outages. Our office is closed this morning–no power and street flooding–so I have another day at home today (I will definitely be going into the office tomorrow), which is nice, even if I had to get up at my usual go-to-work alarm time to be sure.

I don’t know if our street flooded, but I didn’t want to go out and look last night once the eye wall had mostly passed. I went to bed and slept through the last three or four hours of the storm. But even before I went to bed, I couldn’t hear most of the wind gusts until right before I went to bed. I could see tree limbs and lots of leaves shining wetly in the light of the outside lamp, and chose not to brave going out into it; some things are best left unpacked once the tension is released the morning after. There were still some tropical pockets left to pass when I went to bed last night, but none of it had rain and it was mostly wind gusts that would peter out the more time passed. But…I did get a lot of impressions for the book, so that was a good thing. Everything is material, after all, and this storm reminded me exactly of how the hurricane timeline works–as well as the reminder that it’s never the same, so I don’t really need to worry so much about that part.

I wrote a lot in my head yesterday. I hope I remember it all.

I just hope my car is okay, which I will go check on once I finish this and am more awake.

So yesterday was one of those tense days where you wait, watching weather reports to see where the storm is now and wondering, hoping, that you don’t lose power or get wind damage or anything. We were lucky again–that Lower Garden District privilege working once more–so we were able to stay up-to-date all day while luxuriating in our climate controlled apartment while watching television and basically–outside of the tension and nerves–a free day to stay home (which is again today).

We binged The Perfect Couple on Hulu, which is quite interesting and kind of escapist rich people drama murder fun, like Big Little Lies. Nicole Kidman is terrific (although her fabulous life as a wealthy and successful crime novel “who keeps cranking them out because they need the money” is why people think all crime writers are rich, because that’s all you ever see in movies and television; no one wants to read about mid-list authors, other than Ben Mears in ‘salem’s Lot) and, frankly, so is everyone else in the cast. The plot is interesting, more so because of how it’s structured, going back and forth in time to before and after the murder. We have only one episode left, and we also got caught up on Bad Monkey, too.

I bit the bullet and just walked out to the car. Our path is covered in leaves and branches, and so is the street; it’s also in the sixties out there right now which felt marvelous. But the street didn’t flood (filled with branches and other assorted debris), and my car is also fine, so we made it through this with little more than inconvenience, really. I went ahead and checked the inside to be sure the mats weren’t either wet or damp, and the car started right up without a problem. Today does feel a bit anticlimactic. Francine wasn’t nearly as bad as Ida, but Ida was a bigger and more powerful storm. We lost power for Ida before she even made landfall, and that was a miserable experience. Ida was also terrifying. The wind gusts shook and rattled the entire house, the rain was torrential and the lightning and thunder were horrifying. I kind of decided after Ida that I’d never ride out anything more than a Category 2 going forward. We’ve been lucky since Ida, too.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up, get some more coffee, and get to work on some chores around here while also doing some reading. I’ll probably be back later, of course, and until then, have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again later on.

There Won’t Be Anymore

Hurricane mornings are always weird and a bit off-putting. It looks right now like we’ll be getting close to a direct hit later today. Yesterday it looked like the eye would come through around seven tonight; it may be later than that now. It started raining yesterday afternoon, but it wasn’t difficult getting home because there was very little traffic and very little standing water. I was able to fill the tank on the way home (just in case), and I was able to get a loaf of bread when I stopped at CVS, needing something else so I thought I’d look, and lo and behold, they had bread! Ida was bigger than this and more powerful, but the thing about hurricanes is every one is different and so is their impact. The summer before Katrina, for example, Hurricane Dennis (a category 1) came ashore before Tropical Storm Cindy, which did more damage and knocked power out for half the city, while Dennis was a big nothing despite being a stronger storm. Go figure.

We’re in a lull, where everything is quiet and peaceful and even the rain has stopped. There are a couple of things outside that I need to secure this morning. The office did close today, so we’re all working at home for a few hours; I may take the day off, frankly. I overslept this morning because I stayed up watching the debate last night, which was far better than I ever could have dreamed, with the Vice-President demonstrating why I have been a fan for over a decade. Then social media exploded with the perfectly timed Taylor Swift endorsement, and all in all, it wasn’t a very good night for the Republicans. Thoughts and prayers.

I am choosing, however, to see the positive side of this disruption (even at their best, tropical weather like this is always an interruption of day to day life). I am writing a book set during a Category 1 hurricane, so it’s almost like I spoke this into being, but I am now remembering how they actually work when you don’t evacuate, and so that is enormously helpful; I want the book to take place over the course of a hurricane–from the outer bands to the final bands, and I wasn’t really sure how they work because my memories inevitable block this sort of thing out. But I do have the timeframe now that I need (thank you for something, Francine), and I just need to make notes throughout the day on conditions and how it looks outside and what the wind and torrential rain sounds like. So, turning this into a positive is how I am looking at it. Doesn’t mean I am looking forward to it or anything like that, but at least make use of it. Everything in life is material for a writer, after all.

So, I am going to try to do things around here today. I decided to use paid time off today and not have to do any work stuff–there is some, but I just am not up for it, really. And so I am most likely going to focus on picking things up and getting organized, maybe going through another Scotty volume for information for the Bible (my biggest fear is catching discrepancies and mistakes in the overall series), and going back into what is already done and adding corrections–names and so forth that I couldn’t remember. I had forgotten that I’d already named one of Scotty’s Mom’s siblings, and that he was her only brother. It’s really odd how amorphous Scotty’s family is outside of the immediate family, isn’t it? We don’t really know a whole lot about either side of the family, although we did explore the Bradleys a bit in Who Dat Whodunnit.

Despite the imminent threat of potential destruction, I’m still feeling good about writing still, which is awesome.

It’s also Pay-the-Bills Day, which feels superfluous, but needs to be done today for sure in case we lose power.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close so I can eat something and get cleaned up and get my day going. It’s getting dark again outside, so another band will be here soon. Have a great day wherever you are–and oh yes, heavy thoughts about today too because it’s 9/11. A hurricane on 9/11. Sheesh.

World of Make Believe

I woke up reluctantly this morning to rain, which will be off and on all day, and probably getting worse as the day progresses. Okay, pretty much the same as yesterday. We were on the edge of the cone yesterday, and today we are just outside of it, expecting tropical storm conditions at worst for the moment when she gets here, and it’s going to be relatively nasty both tomorrow and Thursday morning. The whole thing should be over and past by Thursday afternoon. The models kept shifting yesterday; first we were outside, then inside, then back outside again. The agency hasn’t made any announcements yet, but I think I don’t want to drive in tropical storm conditions so might just take tomorrow off and ride this out at home.

The irony that I am writing a book set during tropical weather has not escaped me. I really didn’t need a reminder of riding out a storm.

I am also seeing recommendations that everyone stay home Wednesday and Thursday, and little as I want to use my paid time off to not go into the office, I think my own personal safety and that of my car is more important than my job. Of course, we are completely unprepared–no bread, and probably won’t be able to get any at this point as people have probably already lost their minds about the storm. I still have a case of water from last year’s salt intrusion in the Mississippi, so we’re at least ahead on that score, and of course, we have a lot of candles. God, I hope we don’t lose power. We won’t lose much food, thank heavens, because I’ve been trying to use up everything in the house in order to combat my food anxiety (from being poor in my younger years) and not have a fully stocked house filled with food I never get around to eating.

Yesterday was a low energy day; I managed to get all my work done at the office but was dragging by the time I came home. I didn’t do any writing when I got home, but we watched The Deliverance last night, which was really interesting. It’s based on a true story, apparently, which makes it even more interesting, and the acting was phenomenal. I love urban horror–it’s so much more creepy when horror is set in an urban area, where the suspension of belief is even harder to pull off. A remote creepy big house in the middle of nowhere? Easy to go down that path than to think the house at the end of the block or across the street is haunted, you know? I’ve always wanted to write a great ghost story set in New Orleans.

Also, This Fresh Hell, an anthology I contributed a story to last year, has been short-listed for the Ditmer award for Best Collection! That’s exciting, and I am delighted for the editors. The story I contributed, “Solace in a Dying Hour,” is one of my personal favorites, and is one of my few Louisiana stories that isn’t set in New Orleans. That’s also a story I wrote post-pandemic, and so I guess I have been doing good work since the world shut down four years ago, but it was such a completely miserable time that it seems like I didn’t really write anything good. I also didn’t get as much work done as per my usual, which was a part of the entire self-recrimination thing. I’ve also realized, going through these old Scotty books, that I’ve always considered the ones after the first three as different from the first three. And they are, in many ways, but as always, rather than thinking it through I just thought I wasn’t doing as good of work on that series…but in thinking it through, I realized that mentally it’s like two different series; because there were the first three over four years, and changed publishers with it, starting it again about three or four years after the third came out. By the time I wrote another Scotty, things were different. Publishing had changed. There really weren’t ebooks when the first three came out. Working on the first three was a matter of getting corrected manuscripts in the mail, fixing everything, and then sending them another two copies of the corrected manuscript, and on and on. By the time I wrote Vieux Carre Voodoo, everything was being done electronically, and thus could move a lot faster than the olden days. It’s not that I worked harder on the earlier ones, but it was harder to publish and edit the old way, and time-consuming. And since that was the way I learned how to revise and rewrite and make corrections, in my mind I defaulted to this is the way it’s supposed to be done and I’ve never gotten comfortable with the new way, even if 90% of my books were done that way.

And the clinic is closed for the storm tomorrow. We don’t have bread, and it’s probably impossible to find any now…but we do have crackers. And protein shakes. And lots of soda.

I hope we don’t lose power.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, and everyone in the path, stay safe!

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If You Talk In Your Sleep

Well, here we are in the cone of uncertainty for a tropical storm that should be forming due south of Louisiana in the Gulf, which should make for an interesting week, don’t you think? How things have changed since I posted my blog yesterday morning… I imagine we’ll be hearing about contingency plans today at the office.

Sigh. Wednesday is also Pay the Bills Day, which should make everything all the more interesting. According to the hurricane center, landfall should be around seven pm on Wednesday, so who knows? It might impact work on Thursday, too. And of course, I am writing about experiencing a Category 1 with this new Scotty, and this one will be a Category 1, too, if not stronger. Yay. Needless to say, we won’t be evacuating as this has come up a little too quickly; we’d have to get packing and on the road today, tomorrow morning at the latest. There’s no call for evacuation, so we should be okay. But…we may lose power, and that truly sucks. If the weather is going to be cool…it might be kind of nice, but I don’t think that’s going to be the case. Guess I’ll be getting that case of water down from the attic and tossing a few of them into the freezer. But there doesn’t seem to be much concern in the news or on the weather channels, so I am assuming it’s nothing to be terribly concerned or worried about. It’s 3’s and up that are the real problem…and of course, now that I’ve said that…

Since it’s a Monday, it’s back to the office with me this morning. I had a lovely, restful weekend, how about you? Yesterday was a really lovely day here. I overslept so was a bit off for the rest of the day, but the weather was gorgeous. I didn’t do a whole lot of anything, but one thing I did was start the Scotty Bible, going through the already post-it noted copy of Mardi Gras Mambo and getting some interesting (and necessary) information out of it (the first names of his grandparents and his dad; the street the Diderot mansion is on) that I needed, and I felt very accomplished getting that part of it done and it’s off to a start. It was also kind of nice revisiting the old book, something I wrote almost twenty years ago. I’d forgotten how insane the plot of this book actually was, and I’m kind of impressed that I managed to pull it off, especially given how many aborted starts I made on it. But I certainly picked the right back-list book to start compiling the Bible with; it had all the answers I needed for this one in it. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing it, mind you; I am planning on getting through one book per day (I already marked the places I need to get information from in the entire series, many years ago); today is Who Dat Whodunnit when I get home tonight. I’m also going to correct the chapters I’ve already written with the right names and places and so forth.

I ran an errand and the weather was stunningly beautiful–the 70s and cool; the breeze was nice and cool, a lovely change from it feeling like the air coming out of a floor vent in Minneapolis in January. I watched the Saints win, which was also lovely, and then I had a ZOOM call with some friends before settling in for the evening, where we got caught up with Bad Monkey and Only Murders in the Building.

So, all in all, a pleasant if lazy weekend here in the Lost Apartment, if not a particularly productive one. Which is also fine, you know. Weekends don’t have to be productive anymore.

It’ll be interesting to see how this storm–which is now projected to be a Category 2 when the eye comes ashore–is going to interrupt the week and my work. If we lose power, we have plenty of candles and things to drink, and I can catch up on my reading. Now that I’ve broken through my “reader’s block” and binged an entire novel in one sitting (Alison Gaylin’s We Are Watching, available now for preorders and being released in January), reading isn’t going to be as big an issue as it was. I am also making progress on getting through Rival Queens, and am revisiting some Ira Levin classics, preparatory to a longer essay for Substack about one of my favorite writers that I sadly forget about when asked about influences; Levin’s work had an influence on mine in some ways, but he was definitely a master. He wrote one of the greatest crime novels of all time (A Kiss Before Dying, which still amazes with its twists and turns and surprises), and three others that became part of the zeitgeist and had a lasting impact on our culture: Rosemary’s Baby, The Stepford Wives, and The Boys from Brazil. (I also want to reread “A Rose for Emily” this week, too.) I also haven’t reread Rebecca in quite some time, nor The Haunting of Hill House, either. I am going to be trying to read horror all month for Halloween again; I have some terrific horror novels collecting dust that I need to get around to, and Halloween Horror Month sounds like a great idea to me.

I also want to watch The Deliverance this week.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. It’ll be an interesting day, for sure, and maybe I’ll be back later. Stranger things have occurred.

Hang on Sloopy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cast Your Fate To The Wind

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Red Roses for a Blue Lady

Labor Day and the last day of the three day weekend and Southern Decadence. It’ll be back to work with me again tomorrow (not going to say huzzah for that, sorry) but at least it’ll be a short work week. Alas, we don’t get another holiday until Thanksgiving, but I may take some time off this fall just to relax and rest and do shit, you know? I am finding these long weekends are enormously good for me physically and mentally, to be honest. I set my alarm to get up earlier this morning rather than letting myself just sleep as late as I wanted to,, and I feel better than I have all weekend sleeping late. Peculiar and strange, c’est moi. But I do want to get some things done today while taking it easy as well. I am trying to put off going to the grocery store until tomorrow; I may be able to get away with just a short walk to Walgreens because His Majesty is out of treats…but maybe it’s better to do it today and get it over with.

It does feel like I haven’t been to the office in an eternity.

Well, LSU lost it’s fifth straight season opener last night, and while I am trying not to get terribly discouraged about the season–it always sucks to start off the season with a loss–because it’s hard to say already how good USC is; so I really don’t have any idea of how good this year’s Tigers are. I had a feeling they were overconfident, and as galling as it is to lose to Lincoln Riley of all people, they could have won the game had they not consistently shot themselves in the foot, over and over, and there were a lot of questionable play calls that left points on the field. It actually reminded me a lot of the Florida State loss two years ago. Anyway, the Tigers have an easy game next week before coming home to play UCLA, so we’ll see how they regroup. I will also say Garrett Nussmaier is a great passer, so there’s potential for a great season despite the early loss. The loss cast a pall over the Lost Apartment, and I went to bed early, planning on rising early this morning, so that worked out just fine.

I had a lazy day around the house yesterday, not really doing a lot of anything. I read some more of We Are Watching, the new Alison Gaylin1 (preorder now, it’s coming out in January) which is marvelous as is everything she writes, before spending some time watching the US Open and news clips on Youtube. My shoulder was still sore from the vaccination on Saturday (it’s still sore this morning, too), and so I thought it best to take it easy and not risk getting unwell from the shot (which has happened the previous shots); or maybe it was my brain leaning into being lazy, which is always its preference. I did think a lot about the book yesterday, and feeling actually kind of excited about it, to be honest. I am trying something with it that’s more of a challenge to me, and that’s really exciting for me. I also spent some time filing yesterday and I did get ahead on the dishes and so forth. Today I can vacuum, if I so chose; but overall I am planning on a mostly low-energy day with lots of Sparky time relaxing in my easy chair. I am also planning on reading some more this morning.

The excitement I am feeling about writing this book has also kind of had a simmering effect on my creativity; rather than bursting with ideas the way I usually am when I am writing a book, I get a new idea but it’s more developed than the usual “just a title and a character and the basic idea,” which is also cool. I am also solving problems with some short stories I’ve stalled on, so yeah, it was a good weekend in that regard, and I am also working on some essays. It’s not like I’m not working even on days when I don’t advance the word count on the book, either.

Social media, such as it is now, is becoming more and more a waste of time that I don’t need to deal with in my life, frankly. One of the major problems is that it’s an election year, which is making people drop their masks with the mealy-mouthed can’t we all be friends despite our politics and the privilege that just drips from those statements just enrages me. The difference between me and the Right is that I don’t want anyone to be stripped of their rights. The Right’s corruption of American symbols has always been more about show than belief; kind of like their religion. I apparently spent a lot more time on Twitter than I thought I did–one never really is truly aware, is one–and now that Facebook is basically circling the drain, too, I am amazed at how much more free time I have. I guess I had become far more dependent on social media than I would have preferred or believed? Yesterday was another prime example of how bad Facebook is becoming. A lesbian writer friend had posted an image of a hideous Confederate flag cake with a joke about marrying your first cousin. Some woman I don’t know took offense, and said that flag has evolved into representing all Southerners.

I beg your fucking pardon?

Yeah, I let the racist bitch have it with both barrels before blocking her skank ass. Was she another lesbian writer? I don’t know and I don’t care, but if she is a writer, if that’s the way her mind works she’s probably a shitty writer as well as a shitty person. NO ONE defends the Traitor’s Flag and claims it represents all Southern people–because it sure as fuck does not represent Southern Black people, and to say that it does is so fucking racist you need to be repeatedly slapped, shamed, and driven out of the public square.

The paradox of tolerance is you cannot tolerate intolerance.

I also figured out what I need to do with Never Kiss a Stranger, and managed to convince myself my inability to finish that book was not a failure, either of imagination or as a writer. I knew how the book ended, and I knew how I wanted it to begin, but I didn’t know how to write the middle. The fact that it also started as a novella that I decided to expand and make longer has something to do with it, too; I kept going back and forth on whether there was enough story for a book or if I should, indeed, keep it as a novella, which can be forty thousand or less. There’s really not a place to publish novellas anymore, so at best I’d be able to do a novella collection or something as I have several others on hand, too–and one is almost nearly complete. Maybe I should include it in my collection of short stories? That would definitely fill that book out.

So, despite not really doing a whole lot of writing over the holiday weekend, I am not chiding or berating myself this morning over “wasting time.” It was a productive weekend, and I am getting better at being kinder to myself. I’m still figuring out the work/writing/life balance, but what I do know is that balance is a lot better now than it’s been in several decades.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and repair to my easy chair for some more of Alison’s book. Have a great Labor Day, and never forget it was unions that got us the forty-hour work week, paid sick time and vacations, breaks, and weekends. I may be back later; we shall simply have to see how things go, won’t we?

  1. Part of the reason I am enjoying the book so much–it hit me yesterday–is the writing style/voice reminds me very much of Ira Levin, who I’ve been thinking about a lot lately; been wanting to revisit The Stepford Wives and The Boys from Brazil, especially since JD Vance reminds me of one. ↩︎

This Diamond Ring

Work at home Friday, and the eve of the three day Labor Day weekend. It’s Bouchercon in Nashville and Southern Decadence in New Orleans, and I am not leaving my house today. It’s going to rain all day, for one, and I am a little worn down from the week. That’s normal, thank God, and maybe I am getting the point where my routine is becoming, well, routine. I’ve commented endlessly here how weird it is that I’d start the week tired, and get more rested and energetic the deeper into the week I’d get; so it bears commenting that this week was kind of normal, getting more tired rather than energetic as the week wore on. I managed to get home from work yesterday between storms, and alas, it looks as those it’s going to rain all weekend, which sucks if you came to New Orleans to hang out in the streets of the Fruit Loop to have a good time. But we gays are nothing if not a problem-solving make-the-best-of-everything people, and I know folks will have a great time while they are here. I was too tired to write anything last night, which I figured would happen, and it was fine. Paul and I mostly watched the US Open, then I watched the CNN interview with the Democratic nominees before going to bed relatively early; I did some things around the kitchen last night before going to bed. I definitely need to clean it/straighten it up today before doing my work-at-home duties.

I was tired.

I am glad that I am about to have a three day weekend; I’m even more delighted that it’s going to rain all day–with thunderstorms, which are my absolute favorite. I do love the rain here, and I probably write about about rain far too much in my books, but rain is definitely one of the things that you can’t ignore if you’re writing about New Orleans. This entire book I am writing now is around a tropical storm that I’ve invented (Clothilde) and I am torn between making it a tropical storm or a Category 1. I also want to try something different with this book, making it more of a challenge to write, but we’ll see how that goes. It’s so nice to feel excited about writing again, Constant Reader! Huzzah indeed! Now if I can get my brain rejiggered to start reading again, all will be well in my world. Paul also is going to be out of the house all day–meetings and so forth–so it’ll just be me and the Demon Cat Sparky. I can live with that, I think. Paul’s also going to bring pizza from Midway on Freret, which is amazing. Huzzah! No worries about making dinner tonight!

As you can tell, I woke up in a pretty good mood this morning, which is always a lovely thing. I feel rested and awake this morning, my coffee tastes amazing, and Sparky is galloping around playing with a bottle cap (no need to buy His Majesty any toys when he’s fine with either an empty box or a bottle cap). I have a meeting at ten to start my work day, and I am just going to take it easy, answer some emails, and pick up around here before that rolls around. I am hoping to finish Chapter Three of the book today–I’m at a transition, and I did start moving on from where I’d left off on Wednesday, but only a paragraph before I petered out. I want to finish Three and possibly start 4 today, and then tomorrow before I write I’ll go ahead and review what is already done and add some things and probably take some out. I also need to start rereading the backlist, and this weekend might be a good time to tackle that Scotty Bible I’ve been wanting to, and maybe make some progress on the copy edit of Jackson Square Jazz so I can get that back into availability. Next year Scotty turns 22, Jackson Square Jazz turns 21, and maybe I can celebrate the longevity of the series around its original publication date. I have the time now to promote myself more, and that’s kind of what I need to be doing. I’m also having to get used to having free time that’s not just blowing things off for a day or two, and that means getting used to not feeling guilty for taking a day off from my writing career to let my brain rest.

It’s weird not having all that outside pressure on me anymore. I mean, I’m still grieving, of course, but it’s nothing I can’t handle anymore, and of course I’m still not entirely recovered physically from the surgery yet (my own fault, for not pushing myself to do my rehab exercises the way I should have–see? There’s always something I can beat myself up over). But it’s also incredibly freeing, and of course last year was one of those awful years that happen in my life from time to time. Yet I’m always reminded that I’m still overall pretty lucky. How can anyone complain when their dreams have all come true?

I also concluded yesterday (Katrina anniversary–which may have accounted for being tired yesterday; there’s still residual PTSD around that date) that I am going to start paying more attention to Louisiana’s horrific policies and our monstrous governor and his rubber-stamp legislature, and perhaps addressing them? I’ve never written much on here about how horrible living in the Project 2025 testing ground can be–but at least I live in the big blue dot of New Orleans, so I am spared the worst of it. There has yet to be a stare-down between the city and the state but I do know our city council is very defiant and anti-Landry’s fascistic tendencies, which makes me love this city all the more.

And no one has yet explained to me how having the Ten Commandments displayed in public school classrooms will fix the roads and the levees while reducing poverty and illiteracy in Louisiana. I suspect I’ll be waiting a really long time…interestingly enough, of all things, LSU is defying the governor, who issued a ridiculous executive order demanding college and university sports teams cancel scholarships for athletes who are not present during the playing of the national anthem before the game. LSU’s football team would all lose their scholarships because of this; the tradition in Tiger Stadium is the band goes out and plays the Pregame, then the National Anthem, and then the band makes a tunnel for the team to run out on the field while the band plays another one of LSU’s fight songs (there are quite a few, and several were written by Huey Long). Decades of tradition and pregame hype vs. expelling the entire team?

Yeah, Landry’s not going to mess with the football team–or any of the LSU teams, really.

And on that note, here comes today’s first storm, and I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later!

Silhouettes

Monday morning after a lovely weekend, and we have Labor Day coming up this weekend. Huzzah! I am a little bleary for being up so early this morning, but I don’t feel tired, just not completely awake yet. The good news is I wrote thirteen hundred words of the new Scotty yesterday, and feel very smug and pleased about it. At first I was concerned when the tap was turned off, 1300 words is nothing compared to my old output, but I realized those muscles are tight and haven’t really been used as thoroughly or regularly as I should, so they are going to need to be retrained, just like I need to be retrained with regular going to the gym. I have to slowly build back up so I don’t strain or pull one of those muscles. The weekend was nice–low humidity, and the so the temperatures didn’t feel as brutal, especially since we’ve gotten used to it “feeling like” over 110 for almost two solid months. Yeesh. I think the humidity is coming back today; I know we may have rain this afternoon. But overall, this morning I feel pretty good–at least so far–and am ready to get some stuff done.

It really is lovely to have the weekends free from everything, you know? I didn’t get nearly as much work done on the house as I would have liked, but at the same I worry the lack of pressure or any anxiety driving me is making me a bit more lackadaisical when it comes to things…despite intellectually knowing that my brain has been rewired so I have to rewire everything else to get things done. It’s a learning process, and I had thought I had my routines and so forth down to a science. And hopefully, this time around I will not teach myself the bad habits I allowed to develop over the years. We shall see, won’t we? I did also rethink some of this stuff over the weekend, too. I’ve been so rigid in my writing and how I construct a novel and rarely, if ever, varied that pattern. It was what worked for me then, and I never really had the free time to sit down and figure all of this stuff out. I’m kind of doing that now, and I also think writing two books at the same time (when I was still writing books and hadn’t yet encountered the nightmare that was 2023 kind of broke my writer brain a little bit. It happens, you know? But the rigid way I always used to write my books wasn’t working for Never Kiss a Stranger, and because it’s not my usual kind of crime novel, the unstructured writing of it made it much harder to write. If I am going to finish that book–and I intend to at some point–it needs a plot summary and an outline. Maybe that’s something I can work on while I work on this new Scotty? Stranger things have happened, after all.

Maybe, just maybe, I should do the same with Scotty, rather than making it up as I go? Again, I did that with the first and second, didn’t I? Something indeed to ponder as the three day weekend draws nearer and nearer by the day. I am excited to be writing another Scotty book, because it’s in my comfort zone, and isn’t that where I need to be to get into the swing of persevering with the daily writing, in my comfort zone? I think it’s probably smarter to write another Scotty, and then step out of my comfort zone and go back to Never Kiss a Stranger...although I did remember yesterday why I focused on finishing it in the first place. It developed from me going from finishing the novellas into a collection, realizing this one could be a really good novel, and then moving on to writing it…when what I should have been doing, if I wasn’t doing another Scotty, was finishing either Muscles or Chlorine, and I am going to write one of those next, PERIOD.

But it’s also nice to be putting thought into these things.

On the way home, I am going to stop and make groceries. Once I am there I am going to finish the dishes and laundry, possibly make dinner (or possibly not), and get the rugs back in place in the kitchen. Paul will be home, so I should make something for dinner but I’m not really sure what…and I definitely don’t like deciding while at the store itself what to make for dinner. Pizza would probably be the easiest thing, really; just got one of those premade crusts and slather pizza sauce and cheese over it. I do need to work on my cabinets, but that might be a project for the three-day weekend. I also need to revise and update the to-do list. I feel pretty good this morning, and the nice thing is that my “bad” days now are just more low-energy than depressions as deep as the Grand Canyon, like it was before. I also need to start listening to my body again. I need to stretch regularly, and I need to get back to rehabbing my arm/shoulder at the gym or I will never get back to (as close to) normal (as I can get after the injury and surgery) again. But I’m starting to fall into a routine, I’m not sleepy and groggy until well after ten every morning anymore, and getting up is more about leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed more than anything else.

I hate when I’m comfortable and have to stop.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader. I might be back later–I’m trying to write an essay about toxic masculinity for the Substack, and trying to stick to the “one essay per week” thing there. Or…I may come back over here and try to talk about something, you never know.

Screenshot

The Birds and the Bees

Wednesday morning and back to the office with me today. It’s a good thing, but I did really enjoy my four days of rest and relaxation. Yesterday I did nothing. I mean, I didn’t put any pressure on myself to do anything and was just a lazy slug for most of the day. I did do some of the dishes, and I did make salisbury steak for dinner (I really do like it, and it wasn’t that difficult) and even took a nap yesterday afternoon (fell asleep for almost two hours in my chair). I watched the DNC last night, and was reminded of how much I love the Obamas; Michelle certainly burned the Republicans to the ground, and after years of them going high–it was nice to see them drag the right and Trump for the racist, juvenile filth they are. It was very cathartic to see and hear, frankly. I feel so much better about the election it’s like a whole new world for us to live in now. Oh, I know it’s going to be much closer than it should be (bigotry and prejudice will still sway some people, alas), and election night is going to be incredibly stressful. But I no longer dread the election, even if it there is an eternity until the votes are counted.

These changes over the last month or so have been so incredible. I went from feeling like I was living under another dark cloud–the same one that’s been up there since 2016–and that dark cloud just made everything else so much worse. Everything just seemed bleak, and then so much else happened in the time since. I think that also had a lot to do with the writing burnout I was/am experiencing on top of everything else awful that has happened in the intervening eight years. There were a lot of dark clouds since 2016, and of course when you’re already prone to things because of your anxiety and some deeply imbedded self-loathing that you’ve never really gotten past, it makes the writing so much harder. I’ve clearly slowed down over the last seven years or so–and the successes I’ve had I’ve not really been able to enjoy. I’ve been nominated for a lot of mainstream awards since the sewage rode the escalator down and grifted his way into the White House, which is incredibly cool.

It’ hard to believe it has only been a month since the President decided not to run again.

I’m also on the fence about Never Kiss a Stranger, and I am slowly coming to the conclusion that it just may not be the time for me to write it. I think I am going to go back over those chapters I’ve already done this week and try fixing them. I think that it’s not so much “Imposter Syndrome” or burnout or even laziness as it is maybe not the right time to write this book. Maybe it’s not a book and should just remain novella length? Not everything has to be a novel, after all. It does, as a novella, need more work; but it also needs more work as a book. And if I can’t decide right now which one it should be…maybe it’s just not the right time for me to be writing this book. Maybe I should just write another Scotty–not that it will be easy to do so–but just to get back into the swing of writing again. There is something comforting about revisiting Scotty’s world; and it means I need to revisit those books, and maybe–just maybe–it’s time to copy edit Jackson Square Jazz and get that ebook up and available.

And it’s also entirely possible that Never Kiss a Stranger is one of those projects destined to remain unfinished. I have quite a few of those on hand these days, it seems! But not everything needs to be finished, and not every idea plays out in a story or a novella or into a book, you know? I also worry about repeating myself with my work; what if I’ve already written this character or this story or used this subplot already1; the problem is I’ve been creating and writing for so long–as well as plundering old stuff for plots and character names–that the possibility of completely forgetting that I’ve used a plot or characters already is pretty high.

So, I am going to futz around the rest of this week, work on some stories, and maybe see how a new Scotty might flow for me. Hey, you never know.

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

  1. Absolutely no disrespect intended, but even Agatha Christie recycled plots. ↩︎