Category: editing

Frankie

Saturday and a big day of being out of the house. I had planned on not doing much outside the apartment vis-a-vis errands, but Paul’s state ID expires today (and he only realized it last night) so somehow only getting the mail today has morphed into the DMV, Costco, lunch out, and the mail. Ah, well, I can come home and write in my easy chair. I finally figured out why my Macbook Air doesn’t sync with my Microsoft accounts; it needed to have Word updated and the passwords reset…so now I can access everything from the laptop, which makes life ever so much easier for me. I was actually working on the revision of “When I Die” yesterday when Paul decided he was done for the day and came downstairs so we could watch Mary and George (still superb) and more of the second season of Vigil, which is absolutely fantastic.

I did get some chores done around here yesterday–I laundered all the bed linens and another load of laundry, and worked on the dishes, which need to be finished this morning, and did some picking up and organizing–and while I am relatively certain these errands are going to wear me out today, at least I feel rested this morning. I was still a big tired yesterday from the week, and when I woke up was a little groggy. This morning I feel ever so much better, frankly, and so I hope I can go ahead and make it through the day.

I have been watching with macabre enjoyment this bizarre civil war within the Republican party, and am not entirely sure how this is all going to end up. Yesterday the news broke and went viral about South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem, one of the potential VP candidates for the right, who wrote in her self-promoting-I-am-to-be-taken-seriously-on-the-national-stage-book-about-me-in-an-election-year that she hated a fourteen month old puppy who “couldn’t” be trained (that’s a you failure, Madam Adulteress) so she decided to shoot him in a gravel pit–and then shot a goat she didn’t like on top of it when that didn’t sate her bloodlust. I immediately knew when I saw the Guardian article about it that she was 1) pretty much finished and 2) not really aware about the divide between urban and rural when she wrote that in her book. I know exactly the kind of mindset she has about animals–she’s rural–because it’s the same mentality my parents had about animals because they grew up on farms and you don’t have animals in the house as pets, for one thing, and for another, when you grow up on a farm and are used to killing animals for food–cows, pigs, chickens, etc.–you don’t get really sentimental about them because they die. I also knew it wasn’t going to play well with voters and most Americans, because most of us love animals and try to do whatever we can to save them, not shoot them. She also doesn’t get it, still; she defended herself with a post or statement of some sort where she talked about that very thing–and how many animals on her ranch/farm/whatever she’s had to put down recently. Way to throw gasoline on the fire, Madam Adulteress!

And way to not understand the American electorate. And if you don’t know that the vast majority of Americans love animals and especially dogs–you’re probably too ignorant and out-of-touch with most Americans to lead anywhere other than an extremely rural state, and most definitely not the entire country.

Interesting how many Republicans have been horrific dog owners–Noem, the Romneys, and the Huckabees of Arkansas.

My parents may not have had any sentimentality about pets, but they also didn’t have any.

Ah, Mary and George. I hope you are watching, Constant Reader–even if you aren’t into history, the show is the kind of bitchy back-stabbing plots and subplots and twisty/turny show that reminds me, with its wit and bitchiness, of some of the greater nighttime soaps and even of Real Housewives shows. I also like how fluid everyone’s sexuality is at the Jacobean court. I really need to read a bio of King James; I’ve certainly read enough about his mother Mary Queen of Scots and his son, Charles I, who lost his head during the second English civil war. I know Antonia Fraser, whose superb Mary Queen of Scots I read when I was eleven, wrote a bio of James that I always wanted to read but never did. Perhaps this is the proper time? I also should read bios of Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu to get a stronger sense of the time period…and I really am beginning to think I might be able to start writing Milady, my long-dreamed-of novel, later in this year.

And on that note, Constant Reader, I am heading into the spice mines to load the dishwasher and get the day’s business started. Have a fabulous day, and who knows? I may be back later.

Forty Miles of Bad Road

Work at home Friday, and all is well in Gregworld. Granted, I haven’t looked at the news today or checked in on social media (probably should avoid that, to be honest), so my cheery mood should last until at least I finish this entry. I do have to go to the gym today, and I need to run a couple of errands, but other than that I think I am going to at least try to stay inside for most of the weekend. I may take a walk tomorrow morning, depending on how I feel, but I can’t just keep pretending the stamina will come back on its own, and it’s going to be tough getting it back. My eating habits are getting better, I am sleeping better, and my anxiety is almost completely gone.

I did a little writing last night, and it felt kind of good, so I am hoping to get back on that horse this weekend completely as well. I felt off all week, not sure what that was about, but today I don’t anymore. This week was also one of those weird weeks where I was more tired at the beginning of the week than I was at the end, which I am sure has everything to do with changing the sleep schedule on the weekends and then having to adjust back. I am not going to get up at six on my off-days; that will never happen–I have never been a “spring right out of bed wide awake” person, and I think that will last my entire life. I can live with it, to be honest. I hope to have a great weekend. I don’t have to do much more than touching up around the apartment, so I can get into a deeper clean this weekend–more paper is going to be tossed, as well as more books being pruned for the library sale. I’m looking forward to reading more of Ford’s Suicide Notes and possibly finishing it this weekend…and then perhaps reading some nonfiction until I leave on the trip. I still haven’t finished Rival Queens, and that’s something I really need to finish so I can move on to another.

We also finished the first season of Vigil, which was terrific right up to the closing credits. We immediately dove into season two, which is another murder mystery with international intrigue involving military operations in a fictional country in the Middle East (it occurred to me yesterday that middle east is very Eurocentric; it probably started being called that during the Roman Empire, when that was, to them, the middle east; is there another way of referring to that region that I’ve missed somehow? Something to ponder), so it’s similar but extremely different from the first season. There’s also going to be a new episode of Mary and George today, which I am very excited about. Oh! I should read The King’s Assassin for nonfiction; the show is based on the book and I do have a copy! Perfect! The day just got that much better!

I still need to rein in and focus my creativity, which is still bouncing all over the place like a whack-a-mole. But I do think if I settle into writing and Sparky doesn’t harass me, I think I should be able to get a lot done. He did start trying to get fed at his usual time, and he is nothing if not determined. He didn’t relent until I finally gave up and got up at seven thirty, and now he is nowhere to be seen. I do love the little rascal, and he’s so happy to have us both home at night together that I hate to think I’ll be gone for about seven days starting next weekend. I also need to get my shit together for that trip, too. I think I have my audiobooks downloaded and prepared–Carol Goodman’s The Drowning Tree for the way up, and either a Lisa Unger or another Goodman for my drive back. I think I’m going to take the Tremblay, the Ford sequel, and one of the Koryta as Carson books.

I also dug out my old essay “Recovering Christian” to look over, with an eye towards revision/rewrite and possibly either sharing here or over on Substack (I”m not sure if we’re supposed to still be using Substack or not, but for longer form essays it’s probably better than here). I’ve been thinking a lot about Christianity lately, and how it’s been thoroughly debased and weaponized in this country (just as it was for centuries in Europe) and has become about everything except the teachings and ministry of Jesus Christ. The modern American version of Christianity is undoubtedly the whore of Babylon from Revelations; and false prophets abound in our modern times. See what I mean about my creativity? I saw some “christian” tomfoolery on social media the last few days, and it was enraging. I may not go to church anymore, and I may not consider myself to be an actual Christian, but I swear, how do I know the Bible and their faith so much better than so many so-called Christians?

“Blind faith”, I guess.

And on that note, I am going to get something to eat and start getting ready for my day. Hope you have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later on.

Just Ask Your Heart

Thursday and my last day in the office this week. I wasn’t as tired yesterday as I had been the day before, thank the Lord, but was still a bit raggedy as I got to the end of the workday. I was efficient at the office yesterday, but man, there was a very weird vibe to the day. Maybe it was the use of the National Guard on college campuses? I don’t care what you think or what your opinions, values and beliefs are we should never be calling out the military to handle “security” on college campuses. I get that the right hates college students–they always have; they cheered the Kent State shootings fifty-four years ago–and it’s just astonishing to me that no one makes the connections to the last years of the North American colonial period? It was all protests until the war actually started in 1775–the Boston Tea Party was particularly a notable one. What did the British do to maintain order in Boston? They brought in the military to quench and quell dissent, outlawed protesting and criticism of the King and Parliament…and none of it worked, it simply agitated the colonials to more protest and eventually violence. I always laugh a bit when the right wing–the ones who scream about liberties and freedom all the time–call for ending protests, driving cars into protestors, etc. They are the British in this scenario. And yes, the conservative colonists were actually on Britain’s side. It was the radicals and the progressives who defied King and Parliament and created a country.

The right to peaceably assemble and protest is imbedded in our national DNA and included in the Bill of Rights. But no one seems to care about the actual Constitution anymore (looking at you, SCOTUS), just what they think it means so they can defend their indefensible and unconstitutional beliefs and values.

I also wrote a great opening line for my future project The Crooked Y: “I hated the place they took me to after they arrested Mom.”

We did watch some more of Vigil last night, and there’s only one episode left in the first season, which will we watch tonight and most likely move into Season 2. It’s very good; it’s. a murder mystery/suspense thriller where a lot of the action takes place on a British nuclear submarine on patrol. It’s very well written, well acted, and riveting. The British are the best at crime series, seriously–and they are consistently good. I’m not sure why our crime series aren’t as consistently good as theirs are, but there it is.

I continued on my research wormhole yesterday about the French Quarter Stabber–seriously, once I get something in my head it gnaws at me until I give in–and it’s okay, I think. I feel more rested this morning than I have all week, really, and so hopefully that will carry me through the rest of the day and into the evening. I think I’ll probably just come straight home from work tonight, since i can run errands on my lunch break tomorrow, and that way I can get here and get the laundry started while finishing the dishes and doing some writing before Paul gets home. I also want to get back to reading Suicide Notes and even dipping into some poetry. (Who am I?) But I am starting to feel like I am also starting to get it; I like discovering it for myself without having professorial expectations loaded onto me–which always made me hate whatever I was being forced to read unwillingly–and I always love figuring things out for myself. Perhaps I’ll be wrong, but at the same time, everything is dependent on the reader, right, and their interpretations? It’s subjective, so therefore there’s no wrong way of reading it. It’s not like I plan on starting to write it or anything.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. I hope to have a great day where I get a lot done, and perhaps I’ll be able to finish another draft post…stranger things have happened! Thanks for stopping by–I appreciate you taking the time from your very busy day to check in.

I’ve Had It

Yesterday wasn’t the best. Oh, nothing bad happened, it was a kind of meh day. I felt mentally refreshed but physically tired when I got up, and as the day went on the tiredness of my body seeped into my brain and my creativity. By the time I got home from work, I was too tired to do much of anything creative. I put away dishes and did another load as well as finished a load of laundry, and dozed off in my easy chair for about an hour before Paul got home. The nap didn’t really help, but I did sleep super well last night and feel rested all over this morning. This is a good thing, as it’s Pay-the-Bills Wednesday again, and today I am going to try to finish my taxes and get them off to my accountant.

So, yesterday was kind of a wash for me. I didn’t try to force anything, mainly because I didn’t have the will or the need. This morning I am feeling good and awake and my mind is already bouncing all over the place. Since getting up this morning I’ve come across an interesting news story that could tie into a fun Scotty book, have had some thoughts about my next book to write, and more ideas about how to make “When I Die” better. See, this sort of thing can’t be forced; I can make myself write but if my mind isn’t feeling creative and bouncing all over the place, it’s absolute torture that needs to be completely revised from the first word to the last. The rewrite of “When I Die,” for example, is going to be an almost totally word for word revision; the concept and setting are there, but the characters need to be changed and more depth added to the new ones that wasn’t there in the first draft, and that pleases me. I am also extremely pleased with “Passenger to Franklin.” I do need to polish it some more, of course, and make it prettier and tighten up the ending a bit–it seems abrupt to me, but I could be wrong. But I feel pretty good this morning, so here’s hoping for a nice, successful day without stress and/or irritations or aggravation. I will make groceries on the way home and swing by the mail, and hopefully Paul will be home early enough for us to watch another episode of Vigil.

I was talking to another writer friend last night about the business and it provided me with some definite food for thought about my future. I was already thinking about trying something different–I feel like I’ve gotten a bit stagnant with my work, and so I need to start pushing boundaries and trying some different things. I think I definitely want to try writing a gay romance novel, something I’ve thought about for quite some time, and I may try to branch out in other ways. I still definitely want to get these books on my list to get out of the way done, but I like the idea of writing a romance and stretching that way. I was even pondering the possibility of rebooting the Chanse series, but not using the same pattern of titles. I like the idea of revisiting him and seeing where he is now–is he any wiser or happier? But I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like going backwards–always a concern–and I also think it would be far more of a challenge to write a Chanse book now than it was ten years ago when I ended the series originally.

The release of the French Quarter Stabber on parole also had me going down some wormholes yesterday between clients. The French Quarter Stabber was a teenager who murdered three or four gay men in the 1970s; there was some serious homophobia and undoubtedly some self-loathing involved there. I think it would make for an interesting exploration of who he was in fiction, but it might also make an interesting true crime novel–something I’ve never really considered doing, but it could be a fun project to research and work on between other projects–particularly how these murders were handled by the local press and police in the same decade that saw the Upstairs Lounge fire/mass murder, and how that did or did not change in the few intervening years.

And again, suburbanites and North Shore racists: remind me of precisely when New Orleans was the idyllic crime free city? Because my brief researches into the past show a city that was always a hotbed of crime.

Anyway, the Stabber’s story will easily fit into a project I already have in progress that just needs a lot of revision and rework, but I love being able to pull this new research into a project where it will fit snugly and perfectly. Yay! Obviously, I am feeling a lot better about things this morning than I did yesterday. I wasn’t down or depressed or anything yesterday, but it was a low energy day which had a lot to do with my blood sugar, something I’ve been trying to be better about. When I don’t eat, my blood sugar drops and I don’t have any energy. I don’t think this means that I am pre-diabetic or anything, but just another thing about getting older I need to pay more attention to than I have before. Sigh. It never ends.

But today I feel like my life is very much the art of the possible this morning, and I am going to ride that wave like a surfer on Oahu’s north shore. So…I should probably head into the spice mines and start paying some bills. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I will most likely be back later.

I Cried a Tear

Well, it’s back to the office Monday and I am feeling pretty good about the weekend. Did I get everything done I needed to get done? Of course not, I never do. But the house is in good enough shape that if I maintain it every night then next weekend I can move on to some further cleaning/organization/declutter project because I don’t have to start over catching up on the the basics yet again. I also made dinner last night for the first time in forever, actually cooking, and it was kind of nice and the meal was actually quite good. I also was creative this weekend, and maybe very little actual writing was done but a lot of planning and thinking about the projects and so forth that need to be worked on and I also had a lot of really good ideas. I started thinking about the projects in terms of what I was trying to do, what the point of the story was, and how best to get the message across to the readers while also telling a compelling story. This is the kind of thing I miss doing, and am usually so rushed with impending deadlines and so forth that I don’t have enough prep time before I start writing, if that makes any sense? It did to me, and I think that’s another reason I have Imposter Syndrome on a regular basis; I kind of leap blindly into the project and hope that it works out all right.

I slept very well last night and didn’t want to get up this morning (or at least out of bed, which was warm and comfortable), but as I swill this first cup of coffee I am starting to come to life and that’s a good thing. I am not patient-facing today–it’s my in-office administrative day, and I am pretty caught up on my work. The downstairs looks nice and neat and orderly this morning; there’s dirty dishes in the sink, of course, but that’s easily rectified. On the way home tonight I have to stop and get the mail and pick up a prescription. I am leaving for Alabama/Kentucky the week after next, and so that’ll be nice. I’ll take some books to read, and I imagine we’ll do some sight-seeing in Kentucky while I am up there this year. It’s nice visiting Dad, and seeing my sister. Mom’s death brought the survivors closer together, which is nice. They still live too far away for regular visits, but it’s nice to be closer to them both.

Overall, it was a nice weekend. I got some rest and recovery time, and feel much better this morning than I did any morning this weekend–which might be related to staying in bed longer–and we started watching a terrific new show last night called Vigil, which is from the same team that did Line of Duty, which was exceptional. Vigil, which isn’t something I thought I’d be too keen on–a murder mystery on a nuclear submarine that also includes international intrigue on top of the crime–but always trust people who’ve produced another show you liked, really; Vigil is superb (submarines absolutely terrify me–my claustrophobia would drive me insane within an hour of getting on board, and if it didn’t before, it would definitely happen once we submerged; this is why that novel The Chill by Nick Cutter was so unsettling–underwater in a submarine in the dark. No fucking thanks) and absorbing. I cannot wait to watch more of it tonight after writing and doing some more clean-up around here. My writing goals for this week are to make more progress on the book, finish revising “Passenger to Franklin” and “When I Die,” and get a good night’s rest. I also have some emails to reply to, as well as some others I need to generate. I did make progress on finishing some of these draft posts I’ve had in the files forever–some going back as many as four years (I wrote down my initial impressions of January 6, which I do need to finish since we are heading for another precipice)–and it’s nice to get some of this stuff cleaned out. I still have more drafts back there than needed; I think there are numerous ones that can be actually combined, since I started a related topic more than once, methinks–usually because something makes me angry or frustrated enough to forget oh yes, started something on this very subject several times already, maybe should combine them all into one.

I also want to finish the blog posts about my books already published. I am not sure where I left off–I know the last one I did was for Dark Tide, but I think I’ve already done The Orion Mask, which leaves Timothy because I know I did a lot of promotional posts for both Bury Me in Shadows and #shedeservedit. I’ve also already done the most recent Scotty books, too–I think I’ve covered that entire series already. I know the last Chanse book is still there in the drafts, too–I thought I’d need to reread it since it’s been so long since I wrote it, which isn’t a bad idea. I don’t really remember Chanse’s voice, and am not sure I can still hear it if I want to. I know I’ve written a Chanse short story since the series ended, and I have a Chanse novella in progress that went off track and needs to be steered back onto the tracks. I do have another idea for a Chanse book, but I am thinking he might just be a supporting character and I can center the book from another point of view, which could be interesting. See what I mean? My creativity has really come roaring back.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and get cleaned up to head into the spice mines. I hope you have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again a little later.

Doesn’t look like he likes the photographer’s direction to “arch your back a little and stick your butt out”, does he?

Enchanted

Sunday morning! And LSU Gymnastics won the national championship yesterday! Woo-hoo! That accomplishment is worthy of its own post, so tune in later for that, okay? It was very exciting, I have to say, and the Lost Apartment was filled with excited cheers even as we held our breath as LSU clinched it all with a fantastic final rotation on balance beam. We kind of celebrated this throughout the night by watching replays and highlights before episode two of Sugar, which I am loving. Colin Ferrell, yum.

I was very tired Friday from running all those errands, and so was Paul. I was still fatigued yesterday, the physical and mental kind that I’ve not felt in a while–but sadly more evidence that my stamina is not back and needs to be worked on. The heat is also back; yesterday was pleasant, but Friday was eighty-eight degrees…in April. That doesn’t bode well for the summer, especially for one that’s going to be a more active hurricane season. But while I was so tired yesterday I managed to use what little nervous energy I had to clean and organize, and the apartment actually looks better this morning. It’s still not up to par–I need to do the floors to get there–but it’s nice to walk down to a neater first floor. I do need to run the dishwasher this morning, and finish filing before I read and write for the day. I do feel a little dragged out this morning, but hopefully getting caffeinated and cleaned up will take care of that problem.

I did do some things writing-related yesterday. I found the epigraphs for the next Scotty book, for one, and also wrote the opening of The Crooked Y in my head yesterday as I cleaned and organized. I created some working folders for projects that are forming in my head, and I did write notes down in my journal occasionally. I also did some electronic file cleaning up, which is proving to be an endless, endless process that may never be finished. But as long as I can still search for everything in a finder window, it should be okay. I also thought of how to open The Summer of Lost Boys, too. I’ve been listening to the Billboard Top 100’s for the years I am considering setting the book in, and I think I am settling into 1974, which was when I originally wanted it set in the first place, the summer (in my life) between junior high and high school. It’s kind of fun, if a little painful, to go back to that time and remember it for myself, but I think it’s going to be a really strong book once it’s underway. I also started getting the current book a bit better organized. I feel better about things, if that makes any sense? Hopefully I’ll be able to get a lot of writing done. I want to finish the rewrite of “Passenger to Franklin” and start the revision of “When I Die,” before diving into the book headfirst and trying to get the rest of it plotted.

I think I’ve been a bit overwhelmed lately, in all honesty, and I need to get calmed down and focused again. I need to remember how to harness my brain ADHD-driven creativity and focus on one thing the way I used to be able to do so. I have been very pleased with the (sparse) writing I’ve been doing, but I also think that might be partly due to the stamina issues I’ve been having since the surgery. I am trying to rush to get back to “normal” (or what passes for it around here) and getting ahead of myself, and I need to reign in my impatience and take things slower. It’s okay because it’s temporary, and this too shall pass. Take a breath, remember you had a rough go of things last year, and you have to build everything back to the point it was before the injury.

I’ve also been remiss in not congratulating award winners lately in my field; I am very pleased to report that J. M. Redmann won the Hansen Prize for queer crime fiction for Transitory, which is now also a Lambda finalist AND a two category Goldie finalist. Yay Jean! I’ve known Jean for almost twenty-five years now, she was my boss’s boss for about eighteen years, we’ve co-edited anthologies together, and now I am her book editor. Transitory is a terrific book, and being Jean’s editor is pretty easy, actually. Ivy Pochoda recently won the Los Angeles Times Book Award for Best Crime Novel for Sing Her Down, and Ivy is pretty awesome, too. I am behind on her books (I’m behind on everyone’s books, really) but her Wonder Valley was fan-fucking-tastic. Way to go, Ivy! (That was a loaded category, too–other nominees were S. A. Cosby, Cheryl Head, Jordan Harper, and Lou Berney.)

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines, eat something and get cleaned up and ready to go for this glorious morning. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will chat at you again later.

Poison Ivy

Work-at-home Friday! I got up early this morning for some reason, but it was an hour later than usual so I will count it as “sleeping in.” I have a lot of stuff to get done for work duties today, which I want to wrap up so I can get all the errands taken care of. I have prescriptions to pick up, groceries to make, a trip to Costco–I get exhausted just thinking about it. But yesterday was really a good day, wasn’t it? I’m not sure how it was for you, but I was productive and in a really good mood for most of the day. I was a bit tired at times during the day, but I made it through, picked up the mail (a package of new shirts arrived!), and then came home. Sparky was rambunctious and so had to cart him around on my shoulders while I did some things, and then he parked on the desk while I wrote for a while. I also talked to one of my co-workers who drives for Uber/Lyft, because I wanted to be sure I was getting how it all worked right in a short story I am working on and revising, “Passenger to Franklin.” I was also pleased that the story wasn’t the piece of trash I convinced myself it was when I was writing the first draft, and I was pretty happy to see that despite my usual self-deprecation mentality (which I am really working on, I promise) it wasn’t bad at all–and there are some really good images and sentences in it. After all my running around today, if I have time I am going to write some more tonight, and hopefully finish this second draft.

LSU Gymnastics was in the first session of the national championship meet, and they scored over 198 and qualified first overall into the finals Saturday afternoon. I would be excited regardless, but it’s even more exciting this year, because if they hit they could finally win it all this year. I was waiting for Paul to get home and had stopped writing to settle into my easy chair, and remembered, oh, I wonder if we can catch a replay of LSU on ESPN? So I turned on the television and navigated into the ESPN app, and thought, oh, I don’t care about the second session, but I can watch for a while until Paul gets home. So I did just that and turned it on just in time to see Oklahoma’s first vaulter sit down on the landing. Oklahoma was undefeated and ranked number 1; Ragan Smith, one of their stars, has spent a good potion of the year making TikToks claiming LSU’s routines were over-scored, which is not only unsportsmanlike but a total bitch move (I am not a fan of that kind of shit, especially since you’re daring karma,Alabama and hubris is not something the gods like). They sat down two more vaults, and two others weren’t great, pushing them so far down they couldn’t climb back, which was shocking. They had two more falls off the beam, so had to count a fall there. This is NOT what you expect watching Oklahoma, and Paul got home right after that first vault, and the evening session was like a trainwreck you couldn’t stop looking at. It rained Alabama gymnasts around the balance beam–I think four of them came off–and even other teams were having falls they didn’t have to count. When the bloodbath was over, Utah and Florida moved onto the finals to join LSU and California. I am very excited to watch Saturday afternoon!

Last night was also a lovely evening because Paul and I were both relaxed, rested, and in a pretty good mood, so we were laughing and joking and having a great time. It’s been way too long since we’ve had an evening like that, and I was actually reluctant to go to bed and end the evening (I still hate ending a good time, and I don’t think that will change until I am in the crematorium), but it held over until this morning, too, which was unexpected and a delight at the same time. I feel good this morning, despite only sleeping in for an extra hour, and confident and like myself again for the first time in a really long time (I know, I say that all the time, but having fun with Paul has been missing from my Bingo card for far too long), but I don’t really think I’ve been myself for almost ten years or so. Mom had her first stroke and we almost lost her the first time in 2016 around Christmas, and that’s been weighing on my mind subconsciously I think ever since until last year when we finally did lose her. The pandemic, volunteering, getting COVID myself, Mom dying, my surgeries–it’s been quite a ride and while I am not certain I am completely coming out from under it all, I am feeling somewhat better and I hope it lasts.

I also came across another interesting bit of Kansas corruption and crime yesterday, in which a corrupt district attorney (now a federal prosecutor), in tandem with a police chief and a judge, were closing cases by not sharing evidence, forcing people to testify against innocent people by threatening to send them to jail, and on and on it goes. You can read about this vile racist piece of shit here.

Seriously, so much crime in Kansas.

I also typed up some notes for the new Kansas book (it feels weird to be saying that since it was what I called #shedeservedit for years), and I also started bringing together some things for the next Scotty book. See? I am being productive again. Maybe that’s why I am feeling so good? Probably. I always am in a better place when I’m writing, and without any other things weighing me down, I am really loving life lately, you know?

And on that note, I am going to start doing some day-job stuff by heading down into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later (have you noticed I’m posting a lot lately? Trying to clear out those unfinished drafts).

At the risk of sounding crude, this wrestler has an amazing ass, does he not?

Only You (And You Alone)

Ah, Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Awesome. Yesterday morning I once again did the old “don’t leave the house until 7:30” again, and once again I wasn’t groggy or tired by the time I left the house. Bizarre how that minor shift in how my days are structured has created such a significant change to everything. I really need to remember to pay attention to routines before they become ruts, so I can change them and avoid said rut.

I did finish the first draft of a short story Tuesday night, and I am most pleased with it. I am writing it for an open call for an anthology, and I am very pleased that I got a first draft done long before the deadline. (I’m still bitter about missing the Chessies anthology deadline, for which I was working on three stories. Note to self: never write three stories for a submissions call because you think it sounds like a great idea. It is not, nor is it ever, a good idea.) Yay, me! I also decided to work on revisions of some other stories in progress; I am still struggling working on this book, but I’ve also decided I need to really immerse myself in it for at least one day so I can get a handle on this plot and figure out where it’s going and what needs to come in and what needs to come in so that I really feel like I have a grasp on the characters and the story. Those stories in progress are the first drafts I never got a chance to revise for the Chessie anthology, and all three will fit snugly into the end of my short story collection…so technically, if I can get the three stories whipped into shape, I can also go ahead and get the collection turned in. Huzzah! All three of the stories are actually ghost stories of a sort; “Passenger to Franklin” needs some serious revision, and so does “When I Die,” which is a terrific concept and really needs some work too. I think I can get one of my oldest and most beloved stories of my own whipped into shape and added into this collection as well, which just goes to show–never discard an idea or throw out a story because you’ll eventually come back to it someday.

I wrote out the opening paragraphs of the next Scotty, which I want to write this fall and hopefully get turned in around November or December. I am pretty pleased with the plot and story of this one, too, but I also need to spend some time brainstorming the plot and how it twists and turns around and turns out. I still haven’t dipped into my Paul Tremblay yet, and I think I may save it for Sunday morning reading over my coffee. Saturday morning I am going to reread/skim Death Drop so I can get a better feel for the current WIP and make sure I have the voice right, which I don’t think I do yet, which is also why I think I am having so much trouble writing it. It’s always a struggle for me to write a book when I don’t hear the voice of the character in my head, so I need to get it there ASAP.

I feel like I am making progress with my writing, even if working on the book is like pulling recalcitrant teeth.

I feel pretty good this morning, a little tired perhaps, which is oddly different that the past few weeks, when I was tired earlier in the week and felt more rested as the week progressed. This of course made no damned sense at all, but that’s okay. Few things in my life have ever made sense, and a lot of it probably is related to the anxiety and medications, as well as this week’s change in schedule. Last night when Paul got home we watched the first episode of The Sympathizer, which was very intense. I loved the book, and the new series is actually quite excellent–but more on that as it develops, obviously. I also managed to fold the laundry and do a load of dishes. I also picked up two new books, the new Scott Carson (aka Michael Koryta) and the new Alyssa Cole. I want to get some serious reading done this weekend as well as some cleaning and writing, and I also need to get my taxes completed this weekend and off to my accountant. An odious chore, to be sure, but a necessary one. I also have a lot of errands to do this weekend–we need to go to Costco, I need to make groceries, and of course there’s a shit ton of cleaning that needs to be done. I will need to work on reorganizing the freezer/refrigerator tonight in order to make sure there’s room for what we pick up this weekend.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday Eve, Constant Reader, and one never knows, I could be back later.

What’d I Say

Tuesday morning and I slept well again. It’s kind of amazing what a change to my day getting up a mere ten minutes later can make. Yesterday morning I had to swing by the Cat Practice to get his Royal Sparkiness food when they opened at eight. I wound up getting to the office around eight fifteen, and I felt alert and awake all day. Was it a one-time thing perhaps? Well, sleeping ten minutes later again this morning and planning on leaving the house for the office a bit later so I don’t have to rush may make a difference for today too, so we are experimenting with leaving later and staying at the office later and seeing if that also makes a difference today as well. After work, I swung by uptown to pick up the mail, which included my first foray into poetry reading, Mary Oliver’s Why I Wake Early, a recommendation from Carol Rosenfeld, which I am looking forward to delving into. I also got my Frances and Richard Lockridge short story collection from Crippen and Landru, and the new Scott Carson (Michael Koryta) Lost Man’s Lane, which should be quite fun.

Last night we watched more of The Gentlemen and Star Wars: The Bad Batch, which is kind of fun and very well done. We should finish The Gentlemen tonight, and perhaps move on to our next show to watch.

I can’t say that I was sorry to see that the homophobic right-wing bitch Beverly LaHaye passed away. Well, I am sorry that it took so long for that horrific piece of shit to die–more proof that evil never dies, like Mitch McConnell. I really hope she suffered, and that it was incredibly painful, so she was released from the pain only to have the pearly gates slammed in her fucking face and the hell-slide opened up below her feet sending her to join her true Lord and Master Satan in the lake of eternal fire. She founded the Concerned Women for America, by the way, which was the right-wing predecessors of Moms4Liberty and the vicious hateful pieces of trash who were horrified that I dared to speak to high school students about chasing their dreams. I hope it was a slow metatastic cancer that sapped her energy, her will, and made every waking moment a misery.

She deserved worse, frankly.

Yes I am petty–and proud of it.

And no, I have no sympathy for those who might be mourning her. She was a horrible person, and when you’ve harmed that many people–when it the purpose of your life to spread hatred and bigotry using Christ’s name (the ultimate in bearing false witness) you don’t get to expect people not to celebrate your passing. In fact, you should probably rethink your life if you think people will pop open champagne when they hear you’ve finally deservedly died and gone to hell.

I did write yesterday, about three thousand or so (probably more), which felt good. The book is still sucking incredibly, I might add, so I think I need to think about it some more and where it’s going. I also started working on a short story, “The Last To See Him Alive,” which I think is a great title and it’s working….so far. We’ll see how it goes today, though, won’t we? But I think working on the book first and then moving on to work on a short story may be the way for me to balance my creativity needs while getting everything done that needs to be done, or that I want to get done.

Speaking of poetry–did I mention here that I wanted to start reading it, and understanding it? Probably, since my memory is a sieve. Anyway, I have The Complete Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe on my desk, and the other day I opened it, just for the hell of it, to any page and it opened to his poem, “Tamerlane,” and I realized I’d gotten a short story title from it:

Kind solace in a dying hour!

And that’s where the title for “Solace in a Dying Hour” came from, so thank you, Mr.Poe and your poetry. I’ve also got story titles out of Shakespeare before, too, and I am glad I am going to start reading poetry and studying it. I’ve always felt like that was definitely a missing element in my education.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later, one never can be entirely sure, can one?

Drop Me Off In New Orleans

Ah, some more blatant self-promotion! I’ve done some on-line panels so far this year, which has been terrific. Here are the questions from one I did, turned into an interview so I can promote myself! I believe these questions were for a queer crime panel, and the credit for the questions goes to the one and only J. M. (Jean) Redmann; you can order her books here.

Why did you choose your characters and their professions? What drew you to them?

Hmmm. This is tough, because I have so many books and so many different main characters…I think I’ll stick to my two primary series to answer the question. I wanted to write about a gay private detective in New Orleans, and I wanted him to be a big man, a former college football player who may have been able to be a journeyman NFL player had he not been injured in his final college game. I wanted him to be uncomfortable in his gay skin, and the point of his journey throughout the series was to grow and learn until he was finally comfortable in that skin, and able to be loved and give it.

Scotty, on the other hand, was created as a stand-alone character and I wanted him to basically be the antithesis of Chanse; in which he had few if not hang-ups, was completely comfortable being a sexually active gay man with a snarky sense of humor covering an incredibly big and kind heart. He didn’t really need to grow much–he usually is the catalyst for other characters’ growth–but as he’s aged, I’ve really enjoyed his journey.

What attracted you to writing mysteries?

I always liked them. As long as I can remember, my two biggest reading passions were history and mystery, with horror/Gothics close behind. I would check anything out of the library with mystery, haunted, ghost, phantom, secret, or clue in the title. Then I discovered the series books–The Three Investigators, Trixie Belden, et al–and after that there was no turning back.

What does being queer/gay/lesbian bring to your story?

I think queer people have the outsider point of view down to an art form because that’s how we see the world–from the margins. The easiest way to critique society, the culture, and how people interact with each other is from a remove–and queer people see all of those things from a remove through no fault of their own. I didn’t have role models when I was growing up, at least to teach me how to be a decent adult gay human being, so I had to learn it all on my own for the most part. I’ve also been confused and mystified by American culture, philosophy, and society, because it wasn’t designed for people like me. When I came out, I was just at sea in the queer world as I always had been in the straight one, and I’ve never forgotten those experiences, either, and they also inform my work.

How do we deal with how the wider world deals with queer characters? Especially in these times?

It can be depressing, which is emotionally and psychologically dangerous. It’s bad enough experiencing homophobia, but then to immerse yourself in it in order to write about it? Even more horrific. Watching Pray Away this weekend made me furious with the ex-gay movement all over again; listening to queer people hating themselves and their desires in order to be at peace with God in some twisted way? But if God is infallible…this is the doctrine Christianity gets hung up on. They think we’re mistakes, but if their God is infallible, He had to have made us perfect and its willful sin or the devil whispering in our ears. This is their incredibly harmful and dangerous rhetoric. If God tests humans, perhaps he made queer people to test the faithful–and they are failing.

But they can never admit to that.

How do you deal with diversity? No author can be everything their characters need to be, how do you handle reflecting the wider world?

I write mostly about New Orleans, and beyond that, mostly the south with occasional forays into other areas of the country–upstate New York, Kansas, California–and you cannot write about a city like New Orleans realistically without having Black characters, period. New Orleans is a majority Black city. You also can’t write about the South without touching on the issues of race and a problematic history. I’ve always included diverse characters in my books. I don’t like to describe skin color, frankly, and most white writers do it in the form of food, which I find unsettling–do you want to eat them? Cinnamon skin, cocoa, cafe au lait, eggplant, dark chocolate, etc.–I’ve seen all of those used to describe skin color and it always makes me recoil because it’s so damned lazy. I don’t think I would ever write from the perspective of a Black character–there are plenty of Black authors who can do that more authentically, and given how most diversity pledges by major publishers also inevitably end up in quotas, I don’t want to take a spot from a Black creator. I do love reading work by racialized authors, but I would never try to write from that perspective.

How do you use setting? What does it bring to the story?

Setting is one of my strengths, I think, so I always use it to enhance my story. I am also very lucky in that I live in New Orleans, where anything can happen on any given day and you can never go too far over the top about anything–if anything, you have to tone things down to be believable. I think setting is important because it tells you so much about the characters–why do they live there, how has it shaped them, did they live somewhere else, how do they deal with the challenges, what annoys them, what do they love–and is an important foundation for your story.

How do your books start—not the book beginning, but the start of the process of writing the book. Where do the ideas come from and how does that coalesce into a book?

It usually is something I find interesting and I think I should write about that. Sometimes the ideas take years to coalesce and come together, sometimes they are immediate. The Scotty books inevitably begin with three disparate things I want to address in one book, and then I have to figure out how to combine them all into a story. The next Scotty’s prompts are evacuation, statute of limitations, and obsession. It’s coming together in my head enough that I think I’ll be able to write it this fall.

Once you’re writing, what’s your process? Outline? Write from start to finish?

I used to outline, but now I kind of have it in my head and then will only go back and outline when I am stuck, so I can see where I went wrong in the manuscript. I always write from beginning to end. I don’t know how people can write backwards! I’ve thought about trying it sometime, though.

What are the hard parts of writing for you? The parts you enjoy?

Definitely the middle. The middle is soul-destroying, and always triggers Imposter Syndrome. I also hate copy edits, but recognize them as a necessary evil.

I love the actual writing and revising and all of that. There’s nothing like putting down a good word count for the day, regardless of how bad those words might be. I think revising is magic: you take garbage and turn it into something terrific.

Which writers influenced you?

All of them, in one way or another. I especially love Shirley Jackson, Patricia Highsmith, Daphne du Maurier, and John D. MacDonald. Currently? Alison Gaylin, Megan Abbott, Laura Lippman, Michael Koryta, Alex Segura, Michael Thomas Ford, S. A. Cosby, Kellye Garrett, and Alafair Burke–there really are so many. I always take something away from everything I read, whether good or bad.

What are you working on now?

Right now I am writing a sequel to Death Drop, in the Killer Queen series. I also have a ton of short stories and novellas in progress, and I already have ideas for the next three or four (or more) books.

Any advice for newer writers?

Keep writing and keep believing in yourself, and keep reading.

Last words of wisdom?

If you want to be a writer, read Benjamin Dreyer’s Dreyer’s English and Stephen King’s On Writing.