He’ll Have to Go

A gray Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, with a lot of things to do this morning. I have some errands to run, some food to prepare, and proofing to do today before I rest my sleepy little head in my bed this evening. Sparky wasn’t having my “let me sleep” mentality this morning, but he didn’t get aggressively insistent until about seven, so it was fine. I feel pretty well rested this morning, too, which is very nice. Yesterday was a nice day. I didn’t get nearly as much done as I should have, but I don’t care nor do I mind. I did have the games on for most of the day, but not really watching. Texas Tech throttled BYU, and then Georgia embarrassed Alabama, which I did watch. I didn’t watch either of the evening games, but was delighted for Indiana and Duke. I don’t think anyone see either of them winning ahead of those games, and what lovely chaos yesterday’s results unleashed on the college football playoffs, and there will be lots of anger and arguments once the teams who made it are announced this Tuesday. Since LSU is out of it, I’d love to see either Indiana or Vanderbilt win it all…but Vanderbilt probably isn’t getting in. I don’t know how much attention I am going to pay to the playoffs to begin with–I didn’t watch hardly any of it last year.

We also got caught up on Heated Rivalry–I hadn’t known it wasn’t all available yet until last night–and I am reserving my commentary until we’ve finished watching the entire thing. I’m enjoying the ride thus far, and that’s saying something–Paul is loving it. I’m not a hockey fan, so that aspect of the show isn’t resonating with me. (My first major crush in high school was a hockey player; I should write about that someday, although I have numerous times in fiction.) The show is stirring up shit on social media, though–some of the criticisms the show is getting is wild. My personal favorite is “hockey players don’t look that hot”–yes, their faces were be beaten up a bit more and they’d be missing some teeth, for sure–but seriously, why is it so hard for people to grasp the concept that it’s a romance? Romances, film or television or book or short story, aren’t accurate depictions of anyone’s reality. I don’t know why it is so hard for people to grasp that (although, in fairness, I am guilty of it myself from time to time) important, salient fact–and that ignorance is often masked in condescension; which is highly ironic. Condescending to (and about) a genre that you don’t understand is hardly a sign of your intellectual superiority. All genres deserve respect from writers outside of that genre, period. You’re not writing The Great Gatsby1 yourself, asshole.

I also finished going through my journals looking for notes on Chlorine during the Alabama-Georgia game, which was a lot of fun. It also made me realize there’s really no need for me to keep my papers and try to donate them to an archive (Tulane’s library was interested for one of their special collections almost two decades ago, but I never bothered getting around to it because I really didn’t care that much); all they really need or would want would be my back-up hard drive and my journals. It was kind of fun going through them, and I should more often because there’s a lot of good stuff in there about plotting and character and editing ideas and so forth. There’s also a lot of good ideas and fragments in there, too. I started keeping a journal in the mid-90s, and kind of got away from that at some point after moving to New Orleans. I started up again on New Year’s, I think in 2016. Paul and I had our annual lunch at Commander’s Palace with Jean and Gillian, and on the way back to the car afterward we stopped at Garden District Bookshop specifically for me to buy a journal so I could start keeping one again. I have been pretty consistent ever since then, and they are a fun record to revisit periodically. (I have my old ones around here somewhere, but I can never remember where they are.) It also gave me the answer to a question that has puzzled and confused other authors almost as long as I have been publishing: how do you write so fast? I don’t write fast, I type fast. Books and stories have existed in the corners of my mind for years in some cases before I actually write them, and have made notes and developed characters and titles and plots over many years before I organize them all and sit down to actually write the book. I don’t execute a novel from idea to characters to plot to write the whole thing in three months or so; I spend three months organizing it all while typing it all out–and in some cases, I’ve even started one before getting stuck and putting it to the side. In most cases, I am finishing a book in three months. (I have several novels on hand that are in some stage of completion, and I don’t even want to know how many novellas, short stories, and essays there are in the files.) They were started and thought out a long time before I actually write them.

Today’s goals are to get my bills caught up on paid for, running my errands, and proofing the typeset pages of the new book. I am making chicken white bean chili today (which should be delicious), and want to get some filing and organizing done. I am also going to gather all the Chlorine notes scanned in to the computer so I can start organizing them and working on the book. I also realized yesterday, as I selected and picked out the “noir” I’m going to try to read this month (through Twelfth Night, for the record) and realized that what I have considered to be noir all these years…well, I was incorrect; I was conflating hard-boiled with noir, and while they are very close to being the same and have things in common, there are more than enough differences to be entirely separate sub-genres. A book doesn’t even have to be a crime novel to be noir. Maybe it’s something I should write about for the newsletter, you know?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines on this gray, chilly day. It did rain for most of the day yesterday, which made for a very cozy day in my easy chair with Sparky in my lap and a blanket. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

As you can see, I have unlocked my Christmas hunk folder for the year.
  1. I used this book–which I loathe–as an example, because it’s often considered one of the great American novels. ↩︎

Pray to Jesus

Saturday in the Lost Apartment, although I suppose it’s Championship Saturday. I’ll have the games on for background noise but I don’t care about their outcomes. If they’re good games, I’ll watch; if not, I can just check in periodically while I do other things. I still need to put things away from yesterday’s Costco run, and some other touching up around here today, while organizing and pulling all my notes together for my new project, which I intend to commit to entirely tomorrow morning once I rise. Sparky let me sleep late this morning like the little darling he is, even cuddling with me the last few hours before I got up. I feel good and rested this morning. Paul is seeing his trainer today, and will inevitably (like always) spend a few more hours at the gym on the bike. I am looking to get back to the gym myself, probably after Mardi Gras. I feel terrific. My doctor agreed with me that I probably had been experiencing the colitis for several years before it finally got so bad this past spring, and was why I experienced so much fatigue. There’s also a possibility that I have “pernicious anemia” (I love the name. Pernicious–such a fun word!), an opportunistic autoimmune situation that sometimes tags along with colitis and causes Vitamin B-12 deficiency…which can affect memory and fatigue, and would require me to get a monthly shot. Yay.

I also have to get labs drawn again this coming Friday–the same day my next Skyrizi injection arrives in the mail.

We started watching Heated Rivalry last night, and I will have thoughts on it once we’ve finished. (And…it’s another one of those newsletter essays that will play into my series about masculinity.) I also caught up on the news last night after unloading the car and heating a pizza up for dinner. I am debating whether or not to watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, since I detest most of the cast and don’t enjoy watching it anymore. It’s not even a fun hate-watch anymore. I also started my reread of The Postman Always Rings Twice, which is so marvelous and nasty and, above all else, working class, that I see why it bothered people so much when it was originally published in the 1930s. It’s also hella racist, which I didn’t remember–which also explains the casting of Lana Turner in the film; no one would ever mistake her for Hispanic/Latino like Cora in the book. I am also very glad that I am rereading it, because it has that edge of nastiness that noir needs, and isn’t currently present in the first three chapters of Chlorine, and while roaming the aisles at Costco yesterday I was thinking about how to rewrite it. My main character is not a hero, and I have to remember that why I write him. That’s a significant mind shift for me when I write, really.

In football news, Tulane won their conference championship last night and are going to the play-offs for the first time in school history, but reports they were hiring LSU’s Brian Baker proved untrue as it was announced Baker would be staying on in Baton Rouge. LSU football is all over the news still down here, indicating a statewide level of excitement for the new coach that wasn’t there for Brian Kelly, ever, other than after that overtime win over Alabama his first year…but that excitement died down very quickly. Ironic that his best season was his first, rebuilding year, isn’t it? I think part of the excitement is joy at being rid of Kelly, frankly. I was willing to give him a chance, but he never really delivered.

At least he broke the streak of losing season openers that has plagued the Tigers this entire decade, and he did beat Alabama in a thriller in 2022. And he signed Jayden Daniels. Three good things out of almost four seasons.

And on that note, I am heading to my chair to read some more of Postman before getting cleaned up and getting to work on the apartment. I am also going to make chicken chili today, and some chicken salad for Paul. A very big day for me! It’s also gray and chilly and supposed to rain all day, too–an excellent day for reading under a blanket with the television on. I may watch an episode of The American Revolution, which I am really enjoying; it’s so nice to see our history without all the myths and legends that sprang up about it after the second world war.

So have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in on you again tomorrow morning, deal?

Drink a Beer

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! It’s supposed to rain heavily and be cold all through the weekend, which means trying not to leave the house that often. But..it should be cozy for cuddling with Sparky and blankets and reading, and I do have a lot of reading to do. Conference championship games are this Saturday, and I don’t really care about any of them. They really are kind of pointless with the play-offs and the goofy no divisions in major conferences any more, so yes–chores and reading and writing are my goal for the weekend. I think I am going to make potato leek soup, or white bean chicken chili–its the perfect time of year for that kind of sustenance. I love soup weather. Dad and I had lunch at a chili place in Kentucky, which was a very pleasant surprise. Paul doesn’t like red chili, though, but I can most definitely make some white bean chicken chili. One nice thing about this cold spell–Sparky has taken to sleeping in the bed with us all night, rather than just sleeping in my desk chair or the bed we have for him by the fireplace (he wouldn’t use it upstairs) and coming up in the mornings before my alarm goes off. He sleeps in a puddle by my feet, but when Paul’s here alone when its cold, he cuddles with Paul and sleeps beside his pillow.

I’m feeling a bit tired this morning, but I forgot to set my alarm and woke up at the right time anyway, which was nice. My hips ache a little bit, and my body could happily return to the pile of blankets and the warmth of my bed. Tomorrow I get to work at home and go to. meetings in the morning, but in the late morning/early afternoon I have doctors’ appointments so will need to use some sick time, I guess. That’s fine, too. We’re going to Costco tomorrow after all the appointments, which is terribly overdue. I think I’ll make that chili this weekend for sure. It’s also nice to support Costco, because of all the DEI and worker-friendly policies and the current lawsuit against the criminal administration and its horrific policies. I got some Christmas presents in the mail that I’d ordered as well on the way home yesterday. I was terribly tired when I got home last night, but I finished the laundry and put away the dishes. I still have a sink full of dishes to deal with when I get home tonight, but I also am hoping that I won’t just be so tired I’ll go straight to my chair and the news. We started watching a CNN documentary last night–New Orleans Soul of the City, the first episode dealing with the city’s food culture. It was interesting and informative, especially since I am in the process of starting a new Scotty, too. There are three more episodes, too.

We’re going to be a bit busy today in the clinic, and I am working by myself, which is okay. I am current on all my administrative work, and I think the appointments end in the mid-afternoon, so I have time to get caught up on today’s work before coming home. Huzzah! I so much prefer to be caught up on everything by the end of the week, so I can go in on Monday with nothing hanging over my head. I am not surprised I am worn down this morning–I mean, I drove almost twenty four hours last week–and I think it’s cool that I made it through this week without experiencing exhaustion or fatigue. Huzzah!

I also want to get caught up on the newsletter. I have reviews of both the Hiaasen and King novels to write, and I also need to dig into The Postman Always Rings Twice–it’s very short, and shouldn’t take me long to revisit it. I worked on gathering everything Chlorine-related some more last night, which entails finding all my notes in my journals over the years. Ideally, Saturday I can do chores, make the chili, read the book, and finish gathering everything so that Sunday morning I can start serious work on this first draft. I think I never got past the third chapter because subconsciously I was aware that what I started didn’t work and wouldn’t work as I wrote more, which would mean going back and redoing, and I hate that kind of thing. Better to catch it now before it involved a shit ton of unraveling, right? I also think I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend–but we’ll see how that goes, won’t we?

I also think my creativity has been in overdrive these last couple of months because I am getting ready to commit to writing another book–and now that I am focusing in on what I want to write, that all-over-the-place creativity is beginning to hone in, which is also super-cool.

And on that note, it has started raining so I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a glorious Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be here bright and early before my meeting tomorrow!

An artist’s rendering of a very sexy Egyptian god Anubis, who was my favorite, along with Bastet, in the Egyptian pantheon.

Baby Girl

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around again somehow, and somehow it’s already December. How did that happen? Going away for nearly a week has messed with my head a little bit, hasn’t it? But this morning I feel good and rested–odd for the midweek, don’t you agree?–but I also slept well. I had to turn the heat on last night when I got home from work with the groceries, and it’s snug and cozy in here this morning. (I am starting to like the cold weather, which is wild, isn’t it? I always exaggerated how much I didn’t like cold weather, but it seriously doesn’t bother me anymore.) We were busy in the clinic yesterday, and I think I will be again this morning, too. I was a bit tired when I got off work and headed to the store to make groceries. I didn’t get as much done when I got home as I’d hoped–the apartment was very cold, and I huddled under a blanket in my chair with Sparky while catching up on the news–my, what a shit-show we as a nation have turned into–before actually taking a short nap in my easy chair before getting up to do some things before going to bed. It’s forty-one outside this morning (!!!) but I am not minding that at all. Go figure. My theory is that the snow earlier this year snapped me out of a lifelong hatred of cold weather. Stranger things have happened, after all.

The professional bull-shitters, aka ESPN’s line-up of talking heads and morons who blather on endlessly without providing any real information but like you to believe their opinions are based in something, have continued to drag Lane Kiffin for going to LSU. I hate to break it to y’all, but all you’re doing is endearing him even more to Louisiana and Tiger Nation. I watched his initial press conference on Youtube last night (I couldn’t watch it live as I was at work Monday) and I have to say, he kind of won me over. Will he bail on LSU the same way he did to Tennessee and Mississippi? Possibly, sure. But welcome to college football in the twenty-first century, and it’s not like the players can’t leave the way they used to not be able to when their coach went somewhere else. And really, the timelines on how things are set up aren’t conducive to not screwing schools and teams over in this manner. I get the bitterness and disappointment for Mississippi and their fans; I’d be pissed if that happened at LSU, and they–and the Tennessee fans still mad about him leaving in the dead of night for USC all those years ago–have every right to be bitter and angry. But getting the dragging he is getting nationally only makes LSU fans feel more dug in; they do not mind being considered the villain in the least, and neither does the new coach. Hell, they live for having a chip on their shoulder.

It’s kind of reminiscent of the Steve Spurrier days at Florida, frankly–which should be very scary for everyone else.

I did look at LSU’s schedule for next year, and they have to play Alabama, Auburn, Texas, Texas A&M, and they get to play at Mississippi and Tennessee–Coach Kiffin’s greatest hits. It shows we play at Mississippi again next year, which seems wrong; we played in Oxford this past season so should have to go there two years in a row, but okay. We also play Mississippi State, Arkansas, and Kentucky. It’s going to be weird not playing Florida every year.

I also started gathering all my notes on Chlorine last night, to organize and get started on it (again), which will entail revising the first three chapters all over again. It’s fine; it originally started with the cops coming to his front door, before I switched it over to a studio fixer. I may leave the studio fixer intact, but it will need to be somewhat changed because the plot demands it. I also have my page proofs for Hurricane Season Hustle, another editing job, and I went over the edits for a short story that an anthology is taking, which is very cool.

As for the Pete Hegseth murder/war crimes story, is anyone surprised at the lengths this administration will attempt to distract from the Epstein files? I’m not, and frankly, Hegseth belongs in front of a firing squad.

I’m also having some thoughts about the next Scotty, too, which is kind of fun.

And on that, off to the spice mines with me! Have a lovely day, Constant Reader!

Hurtin’ (on the Bottle)

Monday morning and back to the spice mines with me this morning.

Well, the office, at any rate.

It’s very chilly in the Lost Apartment on this first day of December, which also means it’s the start of my Noirmas Season project. Huzzah!1 I also slept deeply and well yesterday, after a day of rest and not really doing a lot. I was very low-energy yesterday, which didn’t surprise me. I’ve always been tired the day after driving home from Kentucky, which is why I always have given myself a free day before I have to go back to the office. So being low-energy wasn’t a “still not well completely” reaction, but rather a normal one, which was an enormous relief. Sparky was also very needy all day yesterday, sleeping in my lap or insisting I go sit in my chair to provide a lap for him–he’s so sweet. He was kind of distant at first when I got home, too, but eventually forgave me and starting showering me with attention. But yes, I spent most of yesterday in my easy chair too tired to read, and watching news videos and getting caught up on everything I’d missed while on that Internet sabbatical I took. I had to clean out an unbelievable amount of emails, and I also have a lot to read and respond to at some point this week.

The coaching carousel finally stopped spinning yesterday, with Tulane’s coach going to Florida and a directional Florida university’s coach going to Auburn, with the big story of the day being Lane Kiffin deciding to leave Mississippi in the lurch and come to LSU. (Mississippi elevated their defensive coordinator to head coach–not interim, but head coach.) There was a lot of negativity about this, as there should have been. He is leaving his team with a 11-1 record and a play-off birth, so their fans are pretty bitter and angry2. Mississippi hasn’t had a shot at contending for a national title since at least 2003, and they made the 12 team play-offs before LSU, which no one would have thought possible as recently as five years ago. I’m ambivalent about the whole situation, to be honest. Mississippi fans have a right to be angry and they also have a right to hate him; he left them in the lurch before the play-offs to go to an archenemy. LSU-Mississippi is a trophy game every year, and they hate us and have for decades. The difference between this hire and the Brian Kelly hire back in 2021 is that Louisiana seems to have instantly embraced Kiffin, whereas Kelly was never completely accepted, and even after winning the division in his first season–a good start–LSU never saw that level of success again. I’m willing to give Kiffin a chance, just as I was willing to give Kelly (someone I didn’t like or respect) a chance. He did a great job at Mississippi–not an easy task–and three consecutive ten win seasons there is nothing to sneeze at. LSU is a brand (more on that later) much more so than Mississippi, with no disrespect intended; it’s just a fact. An undefeated LSU team, for example, will always be ranked higher than an undefeated Mississippi team–which is completely unfair–but that’s how this all seems to work these days. (Miami and Notre Dame, for example, have the same record but Notre Dame is ranked higher–and Miami beat Notre Dame. Your guess is as good as mine.)

Yesterday morning I finished listening to Fever Beach, and have lots of thoughts about it. It reminded just how important it actually is for funny writers to use their talents to skewer and satirize politicians and the state of the country. I have wondered myself about how much of the current world situation I should put into my Scotty books, and if so, how to handle it. My readers, of course, probably are more left than right; I cannot imagine how anyone could read that series and believe Scotty and his family are conservatives. I don’t remember if Fever Beach was considered controversial when it was published, and once it got started I wasn’t sure how I felt about it and the approach he was taking, but once I started laughing out loud (which happened quite a few times while listening) and got into the spirit of the thing. Mocking them is really the best way to handle them–and really, we should have never stopped calling them weird last summer.

We also finished watching the John Wayne Gacy series, Devil in Disguise, which was incredibly well done. I appreciated the focus on the families and loved ones on the victims, along with the trial stuff and backstory. This, Ryan Murphy, is how you do a serial killer mini-series. You don’t glamourize the killer. We then watched a documentary called The Carman Family Murders, which was interesting, sad, and horrifying all at the same time. (I think we’re going to make Sundays our “true crime documentary” nights.)

Tonight after work I need to make some groceries and order some to be delivered (or maybe I can order them all for delivery? Hmmm). I need to put the dishes away and finish the load of laundry I started last night (fluff and fold is all that’s left to do). I need to clean out my inbox and start thinking more about working on Chlorine. I also got the edits for new Scotty I have to get done, and I have another chore to do as well.

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

  1. Note to self: find my copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice tonight. ↩︎
  2. Again, who can blame them? There are people in Louisiana who’ve never forgiven Nick Saban for returning to college football at Alabama. ↩︎

I’m Moving On

And I am back home.

I got here last night sometime between seven-thirty and eight; I don’t remember exactly what time I left Kentucky. I was also adventurous and broke tradition by coming home a different way than I have every time I’ve driven back since my parents moved up there. This actually is a big deal; I used to have a lot of anxiety when I drove–I don’t know why the thought of missing a turn or getting lost has always wound me tighter than a drum, but I guess it was the anxiety. But I was relaxed all the way up there, and I was relaxed all the way back, which was nice. I wasn’t even tired when I got there Tuesday night, either; I think the anxiety used to wear me out. I was tired when I got home last night, though; so I guess I did have a bit of it because I didn’t know where I was going. This time, I took the Cumberland Parkway across Kentucky to I-65 and came down through Nashville rather than Chattanooga. It was a very nice drive, and I don’t think I’ll have anxiety the next time I come that way.

It was also nice to unplug from the world. I only checked email to delete junk, and I think I answered one email–from my editor–on Tuesday while I was on the road. I have no idea what it going on in the country and the world, and I’m not really sure I want to get caught up, either. I do have some things I need to do today–our grocery situation is kind of dire–and some laundry and chores, and I don’t think I am going to attempt to do any kind of writing today–maybe in my journal. I listened to Laurie R. King’s superb O Jerusalem on the way up, and to Carl Hiaasen’s Fever Beach on the way back; which I have about an hour left to finish–it’s excellent and hilarious and thought-provoking, and there will definitely be more about both audiobooks in the newsletter, and relatively soon (I hope) at that. I didn’t listen to my Donna Andrews Christmas audiobook because I didn’t finish the Meg Langslow book I’d started last weekend. I will finish reading A Flock and a Hard Place this week, but am not sure when I’ll be able to get to the audiobook. I think I had decided to make December “Noirmas Season,” so I am going to try to get some noir read or revisited this next month, probably starting with The Postman Always Rings Twice, because it’s been a hot minute and what better way to kick off Noirmas Season than with the master? I also have some television to catch up on, too.

But the apartment is in pretty good shape, so I shouldn’t have too much trouble getting back on track this morning, huzzah! I have email inboxes to clean out (my email tab shows over 110 this morning; it’s not freaking me out the way it would have before, but still). I did watch the end of Alabama-Auburn last night when I got home, which was a much better game than I was expecting. I was driving and missed LSU-Oklahoma, which turned out to be a better game than I was expecting in the first place. Most of the teams I was rooting for over the “rivalry weekend” lost, which was disappointing, but they were mostly good games. I am really not interested in the post-season, but will watch LSU’s bowl game if they go to one, thus freeing up my Saturdays going forward. I am a bit better about not being glued to my easy chair every Saturday, too. The anxiety medication has apparently also removed my fear of missing out, which is really nice.

I’m really glad I went, to be honest. It was nice seeing all of my extended immediate family again–I have some really good-looking and smart grand-nieces and nephews (sigh)–and I enjoy spending time with Dad. I am learning a lot about the family history from him, and it’s nice hearing about what things were like for him and Mom when they first started dating and their early married life. And not being fatigued and worn out by driving twelve hours twice within a five day period the way I would have been before is also good to know. I’ve been feeling a lot better these last few weeks, in all honesty, and I think not being tired after work until Thursday night is a VAST improvement. I was getting kind of worried that the fatigue and lack of energy was my new normal, which was concerning but there was no point in even worrying about it because it was beyond my control. I do think I am going to start working on my physical condition a bit more going ahead, like going back to the gym and getting into better shape. What’s with the crazy talk, amirite?

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Hope you had a marvelous holiday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later today (stranger things have happened, you know) with another entry or a newsletter or maybe…nothing at all until tomorrow morning.

The Roman Emperor Hadrian’s lover, Antinoüs, depicted as the Egyptian god Osiris

Polk Salad Annie

That may be the name of the song, but I always thought it was “poke salad,” because you used pokeweed to make it. But I’ve also always had hearing issues, and have misheard (and mis-said) things almost my entire life before learning how wrong they were! The funny thing is, before the hearing aids, I was kind of ashamed of being unable to hear so I would never ask someone to repeat themselves; now that I have them, I have no problem with that? Strange, isn’t it?

I have to pack tonight when I get home because I want to get an early start tomorrow morning. I don’t like driving after dark, and with the time change it’ll start getting dark between four and five, and I lose a time zone hour once I cross the Georgia state line for a brief moment before catching I-75 in Chattanooga. I hope to sleep well again tonight, since the drive will most likely be exhausting. This is my first lengthy drive since being sick, and so I guess it will be indicative of how my recovery is going, won’t it? Plus, leaving early might help with traffic along the way. I can even load the car for the most part this evening as well, which is cool. I don’t know how much I will be here while I am up north this week, so bear with me; you may not see me again until this coming Sunday morning. I will miss the games on Sunday, but I can always check scores on my phone and I may get home in time to catch the tail end of Auburn-Alabama. LSU is at Oklahoma, so who knows how that will go and which team will show up in Norman. I don’t have a lot of confidence or hope in a team that just beat Western Kentucky by only three points at HOME. (It was actually kind of sad, especially for Senior Night. What a disaster this season turned out to be for my Tigers. Sigh. But I said they were overrated at the beginning of the season and guess what? I was right.)

I spent some time yesterday going through my journals to mark pages with Chlorine notes, and there were a lot. I only got through about five of them, but there was a lot of interesting notes and information and ideas for the story, and for the main character’s back story. I know, I know, I’ve been threatening to write this book for almost a decade, but one of the things I came to realize yesterday looking at the journals is how erratic my creative mind is and how all-over-the-map it can be. My journals serve many purposes; I like to write long-handed, for one thing, and somehow the mind-hand connection frees my mind to wander and create free-style, and it always works. It’s also kind of interesting to see how past novels and stories have developed. Sometimes I’ll write a story or a chapter fragment in long hand; the long hand freestyle thing has always worked for whenever I am stuck on something. I also learned a lot going through the journals looking for Chlorine notes; both story and character and situations. I also realized yesterday that the reason I’ve never really worked on it seriously was because I was very tied to that opening scene, and the original story I developed; but now I have realized that there was an enormous hole in the plot that cannot really be fixed without revising and rewriting the entire first three chapters, which I’ve been trying to fix and polish for years when it couldn’t be fixed; spending some time immersing myself in the book, by writing in my journal, has opened the entire thing up for me and I think I should be more than ready to get a first draft done by the end of the year. I’m actually excited, rather than intimidated, about writing it! I think feeling better physically, emotionally, and mentally has helped a lot, too. I spent a lot of time these past few years thinking that I might retire from writing…nah, I just wasn’t 100%!

I am also very excited to start listening to Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem tomorrow in the car! It’s longer than the drive, so I am going to take the book with me to finish reading, along with my Donna Andrews novel to read while I am up there so I can listen to either her Christmas audiobook from last year, or A Letter of Mary by Laurie on the way home on Saturday. I am hoping to rest and relax and read and spend some nice time with Dad and my sister. It’ll be cold, of course, but I am not dreading it the way I usually do. I think I’ve finally made peace with colder weather? I blame this past January’s blizzard, really. It reminded me how nice it is to be safe and warm inside while the snow is coming down outside. Very, very cozy, and maybe the weather is kind of worth it for that kind of comfort? The older I get, the more I appreciate comfort. (Note to self: get new sheets.)

We watched some more of the final season of Solar Opposites, which I’m not enjoying as much as I did the earlier seasons…but I also watched them all in a binge, so was a lot more vested and it’s hard to get back into it after so long. It’s still insanely clever, though. We also watched Family Plan 2 so you don’t have to (the first one was cute and clever; the second went back to the well and it doesn’t play as well the second time around) and I have to ask again, how is Marky Mark a movie star? (I prefer to use his name from when he was a trouser-dropping “recording artist.”) He has no range at all, and all the promise he showed as a young actor in movies like Boogie Nights has been lost into a charmless “character” he plays over and over and over again, in action flick after action flick. Basically, he just shows up and cashes the paycheck. I do like Michelle Monaghan, though. It played while I was going through my journals; Paul kept falling asleep. Then we watched Devil in Disguise, and seriously? This is how serial killer mini-series or limited series or whatever they fuck they call them now should be done. Not glamorous, not visually beautiful, and the sexiness of the cast isn’t highlighted, but rather buried under period hair and clothing. The really get that 1970s accurately; it was almost triggering. I also liked that they aren’t glamourizing Gacy and are focusing, not just on him, but on selected victims and telling their stories along with his. (We had to stop watching the latest Ryan Murphy Monster season.)

I feel good this morning. I didn’t want to get up, but that wasn’t from wanting to sleep more, it was the warm comfort of the bed I didn’t want to leave. I am not tired or sore, and my hip joints feel pretty good, too. I am not in the clinic today, but I have an awful lot of things to get caught up on before I head home this afternoon, and a lot to do when I do get there, too. I’ll just have to avoid Sparky’s wiles and the lure of the easy chair–or remind myself to get up after resting and get it all done so I can leave tomorrow morning and not be concerned about coming home to a disaster area Saturday.

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

Maybe It Was Memphis

Maybe it wasn’t?

Sunday here in the Lost Apartment, and all is well. LSU won, 13-10, not a particularly impressive showing. (Tulane also won, GO WAVE!) The games yesterday weren’t exciting or interesting, so after Paul got up we alternated between games and other things (more on that later). It was a very nice relaxing day, over all. I did run some errands in the morning, but after I got home that was it; no more outside for me this weekend. It was actually in the 80s yesterday, too. I didn’t do much cleaning around here yesterday, either, and the kitchen is a total mess (because I made Shrimp Creole last night for dinner) which I will need to clean up at some point this morning. I also didn’t read much yesterday, either; something I need to rectify this morning. I mean, it is a real messy mess. Yikes.

I dropped off four boxes of books to the library sale yesterday morning, and yes, this pruning of the books had helped de-clutter the living room, and I also came across some books I’d forgotten that I had–juvenile mysteries, amongst other things–which was also kind of cool. I’m planning to do another round of pruning once I get back from the trip (but probably not next weekend; I’m going to spend Sunday recovering from the drive); progress! I also want to start working on the storage attic. I know, the non-stop rollercoaster thrill ride of my life is almost too much to read about, isn’t it?

But I came across copies from a juvenile series, Ken Holt, that I really loved when I was a kid (still one of my favorites; it’s a toss-up between this series and The Three Investigators) and while paging through one of the copies (The Secret of Hangman’s Inn) I remembered how incredibly homoerotic the series was, particularly the relationship between Ken and his best friend, Sandy Allen–they are often around each other in varying stages of undress, including nude, for one example–and often share rooms and beds. There’s definitely an essay for the newsletter about this series, its homoeroticism, and how well the books are actually written. They all have a hard-boiled, noir-ish aesthetic that I loved. They were shot at with real ammunition, had to outwit and out think criminals, and since they were journalists (despite being so young) Ken’s write-ups of their cases and Sandy’s photos often went into syndication. Not bad for a pair of eighteen-year-olds! I also think this series is why I kind of wanted to be a journalist when I first went to college–but that is also a story for another time.

I didn’t write anything on the computer yesterday, but I did spend a lot of time writing in my journal. I also went back and reread my current one from the start, picking up on notes and ideas and thoughts about several things I am working on. I came across some excellent notes for Chlorine, for example, and as I reread my notes (just from this journal) I recognized something–part of the problem I am having with writing further into the book is base premise that starts the book doesn’t really work or make sense; the stakes aren’t high enough for my main character to get involved to begin with, and so I have to amp them up, kill my darlings, and maybe start over. I get very stubborn about throwing stuff out that I’ve already written, but those chapters are salvageable, kind of; I may be able to use the bits and pieces, but I am going to dive into it, headfirst, in December with the goal of getting a first draft finished by the end of the year. Stubbornness about your work is not a good quality for an author to have.

I also got my contributor copy of Celluloid Crimes, which ironically has the short story I adapted from Chlorine’s first chapter, “The Last To See Him Alive,” which is still a good story and I do love that title an awful lot. It’s always nice to see your work in actual print in a book, you know?

Around the games we watched some of the skating from Cup of Finland, this week’s season finale of The Morning Show, and a lot of the news shows. I am still processing the Friday news; the bromance in the Oval with FOTUS basically rolling over on his back and showing Zohran Mamdani his belly, and it may take me a while longer to wrap my head around the devolution of the MAGA movement into fascism and Nazism with the embrace of Nick Fuentes, the gay Latino Nazi, which makes no sense to me but I’ve never understood people who lick the boots on their own throats.

I am also really enjoying Ken Burns’ The American Revolution, which at least is honest and doesn’t really get into any of the weird national mythology we’ve built up around our history–basically to erase any wrong-doing and eradicate any questioning of the endless justifications for stealing an entire continent from its inhabitants. The Americas weren’t discovered and colonized; they were actually conquered, in a mass genocide that lasted centuries. US History and the American Revolution were actually my gateways into my lifelong obsession and interest in history; watching this series is reminding me of how I went from US History to English history to European history, with some dabbling in the ancients (Egypt, Greece, Rome); I really should have majored in History, the primary problem being picking a particular period to specialize in. As I said the other day, I should have majored in History with a minor in creative writing, and I could have become a historian like Barbara Tuchman; her A Distant Mirror remains one of my favorite histories and served as an inspiration for my idea to write a popular history of the sixteenth by focusing on women holding power…that century remains an outlier in Europe when it comes to powerful women and queens. I am probably going to write an essay about my interest in US History, and one about my interest in ancient Egypt.

And on that note, I am going to take my coffee into the living room to see if any more news has broken since I went to bed last night, after which I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

The temple at Edfu, Egypt

Don’t Think I Don’t Think About It

How is it Wednesday Pay the Bills Day again already? Sheesh!

But yes, I know being able to pay them is a very good thing, but I still resent the money spent.

Yesterday was an odd day, really. I worked by myself in the clinic, and of course–since I had help Monday, over half were no-shows, but everyone came the day I was by myself! Naturally, isn’t that how it always goes? I don’t think we’re nearly as busy today, but I was highly productive at work yesterday, which was awesome. I felt good all day, actually, and when I got home I actually did shit. I did the dishes and several loads of laundry, I made dinner (so the sink is full again), and I even wrote for a little (very little) while, but more on that later. After we ate dinner, we started watching Malice on Prime, which is rather chilling; the “manny from hell” is the plot, and its also very well cast. Jack Whitehall is appropriately creepy as the manny (actually a tutor), with David Duchovny and Clarice van Houten as the wealthy couple he has targeted…although we don’t know why or what he is up to so far. Tonight after work I have to run an errand; I need to make a side dish for our office potluck tomorrow so I need to get the ingredients. I really don’t want to make what I promised to make (my spicy mac ‘n’ cheese), but there is naught to do but do so, methinks. If I make it when I first get home, then I can write or relax or do whatever the hell I want to after. I also slept deeply and well last night, so I feel very awake and rested today.

I was a bit surprised to see the numbers on the votes to release the Epstein files yesterday–and let’s face it, the landslide it turned out to be made me suspicious. After all the shenanigans and lies of this past year, now they are listening to the anger of their constituents? Then again, he honestly believes he could shoot someone and not lose any support, so there’s also that aspect of it; and to his credit, how much spinning have we seen in the last week or so from the right, parsing what technically is or isn’t pedophilia? This should be the complete and final death knell for those Moms for Liberty skanks…hard to push that drag queens, trans women, and other queers are the groomers and pedophiles when you vote for and support actual pedophiles. But it has never been about protecting children, has it? No, that was simply their cover to go after a minority population they don’t like.

And using it as a wedge issue. How’d that work out for you, bitches?

And of course, the only elected official in Congress to vote against releasing the Epstein files was Louisiana’s own garbage human, Clay Higgins. Higgins is– even for a state that produced garbage politicians like our current governor, Steve Scalise, John Kennedy, Bill Cassidy, and Liz Murrill, amongst the other trash we seem to elect all the time–pretty remarkably horrible. He had to resign in disgrace from the St. Landry Parish sheriff’s office for being, well, horrible; is constantly posting racist garbage on-line; is also ethically challenged; and was sued by his ex-wife for back child support in the amount of $14,000.

And he’ll probably be reelected next year despite providing cover for the biggest and most notorious pedophile ring in history. I mean, even Steve Scalise voted for their release. SCALISE!

Electing a Black president who gave them health care really made racist Louisiana voters lose their fucking minds.

Endymion announced yesterday who the musical entertainment at their ball this coming Carnival will be, and you couldn’t pay me enough to attend; I actually feel bad for those who go to the Endymion Ball and will have to sit through performances by the trash they booked, aka Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani. Yuck, yuck, a thousand times yuck. At least their grand marshal will be Livvy Dunne, the former LSU gymnast and Instagram star. I literally can’t with Endymion. I guess Kid Rock and/or Jason Aldean weren’t available? What next, Endymion? Confederate flag throws?

Sigh.

I did work on “A Holler Full of Kudzu” last night; which I actually enjoyed doing and I also renamed the novella “Kudzu Jesus,” which feels like a much better title (although I still like that original one), since the story does involve religion in small town rural Alabama in the 1970s a bit. (I came up with this title when someone posted some pictures of kudzu vines on energy and/or telephone poles, which can sometimes look like Christ on the cross, hence Kudzu Jesus. I don’t know why I keep coming back to this story rather than working on Chlorine, but I think primarily that’s because of the trip next week and the potential for losing momentum by taking that break. Rationalize, rationalize, rationalize! But that’s what I am interested in working on right now, so that’s what I am doing.

And on that note, it’s time for me to hit the spice mines again. Have a great Hump Day Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Now, those are some mighty legs…

Dust in a Baggie

Tuesday morning and here we are, about to head into the spice mines again. Yesterday was a weird day; I felt okay and rested in the morning and had no problem with getting up; but once I was at work I felt kind of tired, and after lunch, I was also kind of stomach-achey. No distress, no issues, nothing like when I was sick in the spring, but it was kind of uncomfortable and unpleasant, nevertheless; I think maybe because I didn’t eat dinner on Sunday and maybe over-stretched it with breakfast and lunch. I don’t know, I am grasping at any straw that doesn’t signal relapse.

Especially before I take a long driving trip, you know?

Heavy heaving sigh. So, like I said, my ass was dragging last night when I got off from work. I stopped and made a bit of groceries on the way home–nothing much, mind you, but wanting to take advantage of a sale that ends Wednesday to stock up on Paul’s diet Cokes–and was really dragging by the time I got home from that. Sparky was more than happy to nap in my lap (after being fed, natch), so what else could I do but provide a lap for my kitty to sleep in? I got caught up on the news (yeesh) and when Paul got home, we finished Lazarus–very interesting end to the season, I must say–and then I went to bed. I slept pretty well, but this morning I am still a bit worn down. We’re going to be super-busy in the clinic again, and I am by myself today yet again. It really is little wonder that I am too tired to do much when I get home, isn’t it? But the apartment is sliding into mess again, so hopefully I’ll have the energy tonight to do some cleaning and the dishes, which are stacking up yet again. Heavy heaving sigh. I’ll have to resist Sparky’s nap/lap wiles when I get home tonight–at least at first.

I didn’t even read last night, I was so tired.

I do think I slept better last night than I did on Sunday night, though, so I have pretty good hopes for the day. I think it’s a good idea to have hopes and expectations for the day, rather than going into it feeling miserable and just wanting to get it all over with, you know? Or is my morning coffee simply starting to kick in? It’s a mystery! I think tonight we’re going to start watching that new Emma Thompson series; it certainly looks interesting, and I have always loved Emma Thompson in any and everything1; so a suspense series with her is right up my alley. I also want to see that new Alan Ritchson movie, with Kevin James, Playdate. The previews look hilarious, and, well, you know. Alan Ritchson. (Who went to high school with Matt Gaetz and hates him–just another reason to love Ritchson, really.)

I saw an interesting take on Marjorie Taylor Greene’s break with Trump yesterday–in which the commentator said they think she’s sincere and a true believer, and the way she’s been acting these past few weeks has been consistent with someone having their belief system blown up in their face. I will add, though, that she is intensely ambitious, and her disappointment in not getting Trump’s approval or endorsement for a Senate run was probably the first domino to fall there. I think she’s getting ahead of the MAGA crash, and positioning herself to be a party leader…much more so than either of the three others who signed the discharge petition. (Although Nancy Mace wants to be governor of South Carolina, but I have no idea if Boebert or Massie have further ambitions, either.) It’s also been interesting seeing the trash that have been calling queer people and drag queens groomers and pedophiles for the last–well, forever–circling the wagons around their pedo leader and cover-up.

As we said all along, it was never about the children. It’s never about the children with the Right, just like it’s never about helping unwanted babies negotiate life, either.

So delighted no one would ever listen to the queers, you know? I wish I had a dollar for every straight white asshole (sadly, mostly women) who told us to calm down in 2016 and 2024–something I personally never said about abortion rights. Who’s the real shitty ally? Hmm?

So tiresome and predictable–and is there anything more infuriating than being condescended to?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines where I can ignore the country burning to the ground for a while–at least until I get off work. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back bright and early tomorrow.

The temple of Pharaoh Hatshepsut–the most famous woman ruler of ancient Egypt
  1. My favorite performance of hers remains Dead Again, which I should rewatch. It doesn’t get nearly as much attention as it deserves. ↩︎