Category: revising

Little Paradise

Tuesday morning and so far, so good. I had no problem getting up and going to work yesterday morning, and I made some groceries on the way home last night. Today I am leaving early from the office to go record Susan Larson’s show for local NPR (YAY! Love Susan!) and later on I am seeing my gastroenterologist for the yearly follow up on the ulcerative colitis, which is why I had so many labs to get drawn over the last few weeks. I don’t think I’ll have to see him again for six months or so; who knows? I guess we’ll see how it goes.

Yesterday wasn’t bad, by any means. I am mostly caught up on my work–always a lovely feeling at the day job–and I got some emails answered; emails always beget emails, alas. I correspond regularly with two friends and my dad, so it’s not like I have a lot to answer anymore these days. (I remember waking up to over 300 new emails in my inbox; something I do not miss the remotest bit.) Now I think back to how busy I used to be and think, I didn’t need to ever be that busy, and it’s true. I didn’t. No regrets though, I worked very hard but I also had a lot of fun. I couldn’t possibly ever be that busy again; maybe, I don’t know, but I also don’t want to find out, either. I like getting up and going to work, not dreading checking my emails, I like writing my blog and my newsletter (it’s right here, if you’re so inclined; it’s about the International Male Catalogue), I like running my errands, and I like having time to rest and recharge whenever I need to. It’s kind of nice, actually. And the primary issue I’ve had with the day job this decade is being tired in the mornings and being exhausted by the end of the day…which doesn’t really seem to be a problem anymore. Physically and mentally I feel better than I have in years; it’s almost like I’d forgotten how that felt.

It had been a hot minute, for real.

After getting home last night, Paul and I watched some more of The Boroughs, after which we watched videos of President Harkonnen1 getting royally booed in New York at the Knicks game–good. The Boroughs is interesting; something different I’ve not seen in horror media before. I like that the cast is all mostly older, and it’s focused on a retirement community–the one from HELL. We’ll finish that tonight after I get home from everything and all the running around I have to do today. Heavy sigh. I need to have some things delivered tonight, too. I really need to get more organized, always a struggle under the best of times and the best of situations. I have a sink full of dishes I need to get into the dishwasher tonight, and of course, the floors always need attention. So does the refrigerator, frankly. I definitely need to just do chores when I get home from my appointment today before I do anything else; definitely something that I need to get done. I also looked over some of the writing I got done over the weekend and simply couldn’t be more pleased, frankly. I really like the work I am doing now, and I don’t know that I’ve ever said or felt that way before?

Thank you, medication.

Apparently, the Mormons are learning what I could have told them all along–Republicans and evangelicals are not your friends no matter how much money you give them or how many times you vote for them. The Catholics are next, of course–although the fact MAGA demands they put their faith in Lord Harkonnen rather than the Pope should have tipped them off. I always knew they were cosplay Christians, but even I didn’t expect them to embrace apostasy and blasphemy so publicly. Where’s the Inquisition when you need it?

Seriously.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a fabulous Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you tomorrow.

It just ain’t the rural south unless there’s a car from the 1950‘s rusting in a field. I actually wrote a short story about one a million years ago; I wonder where that is? They make great story prompts.
  1. A Dune reference, for those who didn’t catch it. Baron Harkonnen is the revolting villain of Dune. ↩︎

I’m Gonna Follow You

Monday morning and back to the office with me in a little bit. Haven’t had enough coffee yet, frankly.

I think it was a good weekend for me. I feel rested and good, which is always the point of weekends, isn’t it? Thank you, labor unions. It was a very good weekend for me, creatively, as well. I noticed on Saturday that I was almost finished with my journal (I actually finished it yesterday morning) and I smacked myself metaphorically upside my head for not writing the date I started writing in it on the flyleaf…but then yesterday I realized the notes on the very first page were written down either while I was in Florida last month, or after I got home. (The note was about a sign I saw on the way down to Panama City Beach at a corner where we turned: Betty’s Fireworks–Best Bang in Town! It made me laugh, I took a picture of it, and thought it would make a great story title.) But this note enabled me to write MAY 2026 on the flyleaf and I realized damn, I filled that journal in about a month or less which also means I’ve been writing a lot more than I had realized; I am just now doing it in long hand cursive rather than on a computer (although I did do some of that this weekend, too). I just now need to get back into the habit of writing on a keyboard again. The journal has been scratching my creative itch lately, is all.

Kind of a relief there, you know. The medication helps with the anxiety, but it’s not removed ALL the roadblocks in my head yet. That’s going to require a much longer unpacking than I’ve managed so far. But I am getting there.

I finished my reread of George Baxt’s A Queer Kind of Death, and also decided that I wasn’t going to write an essay about it–mainly because today the book is kind of problematic, despite being groundbreaking when originally published and it deserves (along with its two follow-ups) to be remembered for their importance, no matter how they hold up presently. It was a very big deal for a book where every male character is gay to be published in 1966 by Simon & Schuster, so it wasn’t only important for queer crime but for queer publishing in general. At the time. most queer fiction was published by pulp presses and not carried in most bookstores outside of the chains. The cop in this is not only a gay man but Black, too–which was incredibly subversive in a period where race riots were in the news weekly. But again, as entertaining as the book is, I think a white man writing a Black character wouldn’t fly today, and there’s also some problems with the gay characters. It also paints a picture of what life was like if you were openly gay in 1966, and that also makes the book important. But I couldn’t go in depth about it without critiquing the aspects now problematic, and I don’t want to do that, especially during Pride Month.

Same with my current read; it’s disappointing to me and I am not enjoying it, so I am putting it aside for now and moving on to another–probably the new Lev Rosen, as he is one of my favorites.

Now, I need to pick out my next queer reread. Hmmm. Maybe something not crime? Oooooh, Faggots by Larry Kramer! I’ve been meaning to get back to it again now for years1. There’s also Serenade by James M. Cain, which I’ve been wanting to reread. Oops, sorry, spoiler–but yes, Serenade is Cain’s queer novel.

I have been doing a lot of writing this weekend. I even wrote a synopsis/rough draft of the second chapter of the novel, which is taking shape nicely in my head. I did more short story work, too. I love that I am writing again and I love that I am being creative again. It’s so nice to finally break through that scar tissue in my brain (or whatever that was) to get back to finding joy and pleasure in writing again. It makes me feel alive in a way that nothing else really does, and I am so lucky that I love doing this work, and that I’m able to do it again. I think maybe that’s part of why I am feeling so much better–I’m writing again and enjoying it, which is always a joy.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Monday, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. See you then!

Today’s crop of pro wrestlers have much better bodies than they did when I was growing up. I’d do this dude in a heartbeat.
  1. I used to love talking to Larry on the phone when I worked at Lambda. He was usually angry about something but would always preface with “Greg, it’s not you but I’m mad.” ↩︎

Wuthering Heights

How is it Sunday already? From whence didst my weekend goeth? (I am sure that is incorrect usage, but I can’t be bothered to check) Yet it is gone already and tomorrow morning I’ll be up early again to head into the office. I was still running a bit on accessory and still recharging yesterday, and that was okay. I slept later than I’d expected, but that was fine. I drank my coffee and had my breakfast and made my entry yesterday morning. I read for a bit, caught up some on the news, and then ran my errands. I took a load of clothes to the dry cleaner and two boxes of books to the library sale. I also stopped at the Fresh Market to pick up a few things, and came home to just kind of chill and read some more of my book before Paul got up. I. had thought about heading to the Creole Tomato Festival at the French Market yesterday, but there was some kind of stupid other thing going on at the other end of the Quarter–right on my way to the Market, so I decided not to bother. I got some great ones at the grocery store on Friday, anyway, and I cut one up to have with mozzarella salad for lunch, and it was marvelous. Probably having the same lunch today, too.

Creole tomatoes are the best. I love Creole tomato season.

I also wrote a little bit more yesterday while the television was on in the background while Nurse Sparky took care of Paul (sleeping on him), which also felt kind of nice. It’s also kind of strange that I am learning how much I love writing again by going back to the very beginning; I am writing everything by hand in my journal, and my handwriting is getting prettier and prettier as well as more precise. I also wrote on the computer, about a thousand words overall on some short stories, about four in all, which was kind of scattered and fun again. I also started writing the opening of yet another novel–but I was worried about forgetting how I wanted that particular novel to open, so I wrote it.

It’s nice to be writing again, even if it is all pretty much scattered and all over the place.

I spent most of the day in my easy chair, either scribbling in my journal or watching television. We watched more of Cape Fear, Sweetpea, and The Boroughs last evening. We still haven’t watched Bridgerton or Stranger Things, and I’m not sure why we lost interest in either. Maybe because there was so much time between seasons? I don’t know. There’s a new Harlan Coben show dropping next week, and we’re looking forward to that–we always love Harlan’s shows–and I also did some reading yesterday morning. I would like to do some more reading this morning, and maybe even some more writing; one never can be certain how the day is going to go. I slept in this morning, and feel a bit tired, too.

But my coffee is going down nicely and my body is also waking up. My workspace is a complete and utter mess this morning, and I should work on that some. All the stuff I dropped off yesterday enabled me to clean and organize that corner of the living room, and maybe it’s time to start clearing out the bead trunk, too. I can keep things in there besides the beads–all the living room blankets, for one–and then close it for another clean surface. I’ll look into that this week, to see if ARCNO still has bead donations spots up and running around the city.

And I should do some cleaning and organizing of the kitchen.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close, so I can get another cup of coffee and make my breakfast to get this day started. Will it be a productive one, or will it not? It remains to be seen, and I will check in with you again tomorrow. See you then!

El Castillo, Chichen Itza, Mexico. And yes, despite being both afraid of heights AND falling, Greg climbed that thing. Coming down was much worse.

So Sincere

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well–at least so far. 🙂 Today, all I have to do is swing by the Latter Library to drop off books to the book sale and stop at the Fresh Market on my way home from the library. It rained last night (I know, surprise) and I slept well,. I also slept a little later this morning because I was very tired last night because I had to get up at six to go to the office for a meeting. After that I had to run some errands (lab work, mail, groceries) before heading home to do my work and clean. I did manage to get some cleaning done–I got the bed linens and a load of laundry done, and did some picking up and organizing while season one of The Traitors played in the background. We also watched Pillion last night, and while I was appreciative of the attempt made by the film to show that kind of a relationship, it didn’t click with me and I kind of found it to be a bit dull–which is not something you want with a movie about sub/dom. I hadn’t wanted to see it, despite its subject matter (something spicy and gay–and yes, much as I hate using the word spicy to describe sex, it kind of works) because a good friend who is more knowledgeable and experienced with dom/sub relationships had hated it; which told me everything I needed to know about whether I should watch or not. They were right, too–I disliked the movie and thought it was kind of dull; I appreciated the attempt, though. Years ago it wouldn’t have been made, so there’s that. Progress? Maybe?

After I finished working yesterday I wrote a lot last night. One of my major problems with self-destructive mental patterns is that I don’t consider anything to be actually “writing” unless I’ve written some fiction. But last night as I sat in my chair, I wrote a lot in my journal, and it wasn’t just free flowing stream of consciousness stuff while my mind wandered. I actually planned out several short stories and novellas (already in progress, but I rarely do a lot of prep work for short stories, which could be the problem), which felt great–I rarely work out the stories and plots and usually just have an idea and start typing and hoping my brain keeps going. Just typing that made me see the absolute failure of logic there and maybe I just rewired my brain. I’ve filled almost an entire journal with my scribblings since I started a new one several weeks ago…which is a lot of fucking writing that I don’t count, as well as the blog and newsletter. Maybe this is why I am called prolific so much? I just scoff when people say that because I always think I can do more.

Learn to accept a compliment, Gregalicious.

I think I will probably take things a bit slow today–at least this morning, at any rate–because I do feel a bit tired. I need to take boxes of books to the library sale, stop by Fresh Market, and pick up the mail. Oh! One of my errands yesterday was also to pick up the new Lev Rosen, The Disaster Gay Detective Agency, which I’m hoping to read after I finish All of Us Murderers. I am also behind on his Andy Mills series; I still have the last two to go. I am going to spend some time reading this morning, and we’ll see how the day goes. I am a little worn down from the week, but I made it through the week without feeling tired or worn out or exhausted or fatigued. This morning feels like I’m on accessory power while my batteries recharge–and the errands aren’t going to help much, I don’t think. I also want to run by the dry cleaners and drop some things off that have been in the living room since the Festivals–it’s funny how you dump things in a chair and think oh, I’ll get to that later only to lose track of days and weeks and suddenly that stuff has been sitting there for months. I hope there’s no afterlife because Mom would be judging the fuck out of me!

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close, get more coffee, and adjourn to my easy chair where I can check out the news and read for a bit before getting cleaned up to run my errands. I hope you have a fabulous day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning, bright-eyed and rested and a-rarin’ to go.

Yes, great body and all, but I think he’s got a handsome face and I love that half-smile.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. I feel rested this morning, which is a good thing, but i am not going to predict how the day is going to go–yesterday was another day of rest and recovery for me, as it turned out. Paul is doing great–he doesn’t need the walker at all–and the pain is manageable for him, which is also a relief. He has physical therapy today for the first time; it’s also the first time he’ll be home all alone all day, too. But…he’s doing great and he’s getting rest, too. I had hoped this would be how it goes–he recovered very quickly with his hip replacements–but you never know; you always wonder if this is the time that will be different, and it’s delightful to know he’ll not be in any pain soon enough.

I did manage to get some things done yesterday. I managed to get things delivered, and cleaned out the sink and ran the dishwasher. I definitely have some catching up to do this morning–checkbook, emails, etc.–but it’s also lovely to avoid the Internet for the weekend, too. We finished Half Man yesterday, and I am still processing that this morning. We also watched last week’s Euphoria, and I honestly don’t remember what we watched after that, so it clearly didn’t register very much in my tired brain. It could be that my brain hasn’t awakened yet entirely? But, long story short, we spent most of yesterday hanging out together in the living room for the third straight day, which was lovely. We used to do that every weekend, until Paul gets so busy with work that he has to work on the weekends. It’s really nice, actually. Sparky was a love bug all weekend, too. Oh, yes, we were watching the second season of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, which is always visually stunning even if the plot is kind of insane. It’s funny, when I was a kid monster movies like Godzilla and King Kong always gave me nightmares (likewise, I couldn’t watch Nate’s death on Euphoria–buried alive in a coffin, only for a rattlesnake to join him? All three of my biggest phobias, combined in one scene? I left the room.), but this show and the recent Godzilla movies don’t bother me in the least.

And yes, Half Man was also a bit triggering.

Half Man was an interesting show to kick off Pride Month, at any rate. It was probably the best depiction of a trauma bond that I’ve ever seen. Richard Gadd is an exceptional talent, and I was right–he gained a hundred pounds of muscle for this show. He and Jamie Bell were an excellent acting team–I’ve loved Bell since Billy Elliott–and it will take me a moment to get it processed enough through my brain so I can write about it. And yes, it is Pride Month; cue all the tiresome bigots whining about how “the military and veterans don’t get a month” (which shows how little they actually do care about the military and the veterans) and on and on: “we should have Straight Pride!” (I always want to reply, “yes, by all means, celebrate your mediocrity and the damage you inflict.”) I want to switch my newsletter to focus primarily on queer stuff–books and so forth, tales from my gay life–for the month, but I also want to get my thoughts on A Violent Masterpiece sent out as well; so who knows?

I am also not sure how busy we are in the clinic this week, nor do I know if I am working by myself. One can never be sure, and since I didn’t bring my laptop home (because I was off on Friday), I won’t be able to find out until I get to the office. It’s kind of weird going in with no idea what I am looking at till I get there–I usually do have the laptop at home on the weekends, but since I took Friday off, why lug the damned thing around? That, in the olden days, would have made me anxious, so we’re really getting somewhere, aren’t we? Anyway, I am hoping to be able to leave the office tomorrow and head over to UNO to tape Susan Larson’s NPR radio show, “My Reading Life,” which is always lovely.

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

The Quarter is so beautiful a night.

Don’t Let it Show

Sunday morning and I slept in. I also slept well, and no, didn’t want to get up out of bed this morning either–hence me sleeping in later than I’d intended. I was very low energy yesterday, physically and mentally, which I think had everything to do with the crash and relief after the surgery. As I said, since the medication switch (which I seem to never stop talking about) I don’t have the mental anxiety anymore, but my body still reacts to it. I could physically feel the relief once we got home Friday from the surgery, so I shouldn’t be terribly surprised that I am exhausted this weekend. This is yet still another reminder that I need to be kinder to myself about not getting things done, because it inevitably is beyond my control in the first place.

Paul is doing swimmingly. There’s pain, but it’s nothing he can’t handle with some medications, which is to be expected. But he can walk without the walker, and climb/descend the stairs without difficulty. This is an enormous relief, as I have to return to office on Monday and leave him in the capable hands (paws?) of Nurse Sparky, who uses his kitty healing powers on him as much as possible. It’s weird how cats always sense it, isn’t it? Sparky has been glued to Paul for the most part since he got home, although now he’s down here playing while Paul sleeps.

Because of everything we pretty much did very little yesterday. Paul got up earlier than I expected, so I turned the French Open on for him to watch while I tried to do some things. I made some progress on the apartment, but for the most part I wound up in my easy chair watching with him. WE switched over to a rewatch of Celebrity Traitors UK, which is one of my favorites (I told you I was obsessed with the show), before moving on to a new movie on HBO, Miss You Love You, starring Allison Janney and Andrew Rannells, which we really enjoyed, and then started Half Man, which is incredible, and I am still digesting it. It’s the new show from Richard Gadd, of Baby Reindeer fame, and will have more to say about it once I finish the show today and think about it a few days. It’s incredibly done, the writing is exceptional, and the acting is top notch. We binged five episodes last night before calling it an evening.

Today I cannot blow off; I need to do some things today around here and I need to have some things delivered this afternoon. As much as I would love to just sit in my chair and read my book with Sparky in my lap, alas, I have to get some cleaning done and some other stuff as well, and hope to have some time to do some writing and reading around watching television and hanging out with my little family here today while letting my batteries get charged up to capacity again today before I go back to work tomorrow. I also don’t know how long Paul is going to sleep in this morning, either. So I am going to try to do some things and get cleaned up before he wakes; I also need to run the dishwasher again. I did do a load of dishes and caught up on the laundry, so I wasn’t totally idle yesterday.

Not that there’s anything wrong with being idle. Christ, Greg, you don’t have to be doing something every second of every fucking day. Vestiges of the coping mechanisms developed for my anxiety, I suppose.

Okay, I am going to get another cup of coffee and make some toast before I get cleaned up and get some things done around here before taking a reading break. So, have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrrow morning, okay?

In The Heat of the Night

Saturday morning after a very tiring day yesterday. As I mentioned, we got up at four (!!!!) yesterday morning because we had to be at the surgery center in Metairie at 5:45 am. While he was being operated on (I really didn’t need to know about the bone saw), I stayed in his patient room with my iPad (it really does work as a laptop now) and read my book. After everything, we managed to get home by shortly after one. He did fantastic–he always does–and can climb the stairs and pretty much walk normally; he was like this with his hips all those years ago, but it’s also nice to know that getting older hasn’t changed how quickly he recovers from these sort of things. I was exhausted by the time we got home, and he of course had surgery, so we just kind of rested and relaxed for the rest of the day, watching our shows and overall, having a really nice day together at home with Sparky. We finished House of Ashur (which was really picking up at the end; shame it wasn’t renewed), the series finale for Hacks (marvelous) and then watched Scream 7, which we enjoyed; I didn’t pay any attention to the discourse when it was released, so I cannot recall what the “fan base” thought of it, and really don’t care. We had fun watching, and Neve Campbell’s return as Sidney Prescott (“You have to shoot them in the HEAD”) was also a lot of fun. (Which reminds me, I think Adam Cesare has a new Frendo novel, doesn’t he?)

Today is probably going to be another recovery day where I don’t get a lot done, writing wise, because I feel very drained this morning–the emotional fallout from those worrisome days always results in a mental and physical crash the next morning–and so am going to take it easy. I have errands to run later on–not very long, not very much–and I do need to do some chores around here. It really takes so little time for the place to just go to hell, doesn’t it? Heavy sigh, and this comes from oh I’ll do that tomorrow. I never learn, do I? I will always procrastinate when I can, but in fairness, when I get home from work now Sparky is very needy so I have to let him get to feeling secure again by letting him sleep in my lap (he’s much more neurotic than either Skittle or Scooter ever were; he has abandonment issues, clearly) and Paul got home early every night this week, so I went directly from kitty lap to watching television with Paul, and then it’s bedtime. I do have lots to do today, so once I finish this I am going to get cleaned up and get started on the apartment. I also want to write some today, too, and get some reading done as well as those errands. I’ll probably also take it easy for a while as well. I do feel drained of energy more than anything else this morning.

All the release of the surgery/post surgery worry, I imagine. I should have expected it, you know? I always forget these things.

Speaking of Sparky, he’s being very lovey-dovey cuddly this morning. Not sure what that’s about, but I do not mind.

I also woke up earlier than I had intended. I was planning on letting myself sleep in as late as I wanted, but woke up around five thirty, but finally got up at just before seven. At least the French Open is going on, so Paul can entertain himself watching that while I do other things; after he gets up, of course. I think once I finish this I am going to get cleaned up and check my to-do notebook, and then add things to it for today and tomorrow. At the very least, I need to get my next newsletter done; I’d like to have it scheduled to go out tomorrow morning, so I can start with the My Gay Life Pride newsletters for June. LOL, my mind is so muddled right now I can’t really think too clearly or creatively at the moment. But more coffee and some time in my easy chair reading and/or watching the news (I’ve been laughing my ass off at “Shut up you ugly fuck” as well as the Freedom250 implosion) will probably do the trick. I am also looking forward to getting back to reading my book. It is holding my interest, which is always a good thing for a book, but I do have some criticisms of it. Has anyone ever written an essay about gay male Gothic novels? I’d love to study that subject more, as well as to read more in the subgenre–if there are more books of this type even out there.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and head into the spice mines for a bit before getting cleaned up. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and until tomorrow!

The Temple at Dendera. I would love to have a print of this.

My Clone Sleeps Alone

Thursday and the last day in the office for me. I’m off tomorrow because of Paul’s surgery (obviously), and we still don’t know what time we have to be at the surgery center. Thanks for all the well wishes, everyone. They are appreciated. It’s supposed to rain most of the day today–95% chance–although it was also supposed to rain all day yesterday and it really didn’t. Mississippi is being inundated, though, with flash flooding and all that good stuff. I think we’re slow in the clinic today, so I should be able to get my admin work done today.

Once we find out what time we have to be at the surgery center on Friday, I’ll be able to formulate any plans for the day and for the weekend. Which is fine; I just don’t do well with ambiguity and have never been a “play it by ear” kind of person–the medications have not changed that at all, so that clearly wasn’t a stressor–but I do have my to-do list/notebook to consult. I do have to pay some bills that are due next week before pay day that I’ve been kind of slagging off on–it’s not like they’re overdue or anything, they are simply due next week and on the last Pay-the-Bills Day I just didn’t feel like keeping up with it. (Every time I pay a bill, I think, now watch the world incinerate tomorrow. It used to be a joke…in the before times.)

Remember that planned Entergy outage from last weekend that didn’t happen because of the rain? They sent me an email and a text yesterday to let me know it was rescheduled for that day–after I was already at work and couldn’t do anything about it. All I could think was everything in the fridge is going to be wasted and replaced. I groaned at the thought of the money wasted and the money to spend to replace everything, but before I could spiral about it I thought about the people in the same situation who can’t afford to replace everything, and I was infuriated on their behalf. It went off around four, I got home after five to no power, but it was back on around six. Everything is fine, nothing spoiled…but I can’t get stop thinking about the people who can’t afford to replace groceries spoiled. Had this happened back in our poorer days, that would have been us. I know Entergy has to do stuff like this–they were replacing a circuit breaker that needed it–but more than same day notice would be appreciated–so people could stock in ice or something to keep things from spoiling. I mean, what about people on SNAP? The poor tax in this country is too high.

Since there was no power when I got home there was aught for me to do but sit in my easy chair with Sparky and start reading my next reads, All of Us Murderers and A Queer Kind of Death, and I must say, they are absolutely different queer stories and voices. A Queer Kind of Death is arch and campy and witty and loads of fun; it reminds me of P. G. Wodehouse and All About Eve, that wild and wonderful sophisticated kind of wit that is reminiscent of The Thin Man films, too. I think I may be being too. hard on Murderers because it is early in the book and I think I was reading critically rather than for pleasure. I’m not saying it’s bad; I’m saying it isn’t what I expected it to be (which is on me, not the author), and I am having to rethink it as I go because of that. Again, on me, not the author or the book. I’m going to take it to work to read on my lunch break, and with my mind reset we’ll see. It does remind me of Vincent Virga’s Gaywyck, and that is actually very high praise.

I also kind of smirked when I typed today’s title, because that title–and song–inspired a book idea in me–waaaay back when the song was fresh and shiny and new. It’s a story I still toy with from time to time; I’ve always wanted to write something dystopian, and this, among others, is one of the few dystopian ideas that actually stuck. I’ll probably never write it, of course–I’ve recognized that I will probably never get the chance to turn all of my ideas into published work–but it nags at me every once in a while.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am not sure when I’ll be able to post tomorrow–it depends on what time we have to be there tomorrow–but if I am not able to post before we go, I’ll take the iPad with me and try to write it in the waiting room. At any rate, I will be here at some point again tomorrow. Till then!

If You Think You Know How to Love Me

Somehow, it’s Wednesday again already; a holiday will do that to a week. Yesterday was kind of a nice reintroduction to my work week. It was an easy day at the office, and despite feeling groggy in the morning, I woke up and got things done at the office around my clients. On the way home, I picked up the mail, mailed some books, dropped off another and then made groceries. I wrote for a bit on that story I was rewriting in my journal and I am quite pleased with what I have done thus far. It’s fun again to write, to wrestle with words and images and characters and sentences. It’s nice to remember that I write because I enjoy it; it’s deadlines that turn it into an odious, stressful chore.

Although I do wonder if I need to turn things into odious, stressful chores in order to get them done. Hmmm.

I also managed to send out a new newsletter yesterday, and if you want to read the new newsletter click here. I also wasn’t terribly tired when I got home from work yesterday (hence the productivity); I feel pretty good this morning as well–not even groggy Greggy today. I have a semi-busy day at the office today, but I get to go straight home from work tonight and that will be nice. I need to do a load of laundry and a load of dishes tonight, too. We still don’t know what time Paul’s surgery will be on Friday–they’ll tell him on Thursday–and I don’t know how that day is going to go once I get him home. I worry about his pain management–thank God I have that ice machine!1 It’s kind of ironic that I am again hitting the ground running with writing again, only to have another situation that will need a work-around. Heavy heaving sigh. Here’s hoping the writing continues, regardless of what is going on in my life. But it is nice that I am feeling better and productive again. Even the Achilles tendons have finally stopped again and I can walk normally again, which is also very lovely.

We watched an episode of House of Ashur and Widow’s Bay, both of which are growing on me (I prefer Widow’s Bay; it’s supernatural horror, which is a favorite of mine). I think there’s another episode of Widow’s Bay for tonight, and we may have to begin watching something else tomorrow night, or finish House of Ashur, which is a pale imitation of its predecessors–but there’s so much male skin and full frontal and queer activity and violence the plot is kind of hard to follow. The dialogue seems very stilted, too; I don’t remember it being quite so jarring in the earlier seasons. Maybe at some point I will rewatch the earlier seasons; I do remember Lucy Lawless stealing the show out from under all the sexy barely dressed musclemen. I do love Lucy Lawless.

I’ve also decided to stop blogging about politics. My commentary is not necessary for the discourse; anything I could say has been said better by minds more knowledgeable than mine, and besides, thinking about it is upsetting. I am tired of every day being ruined by the sleaze in Washington and Baton Rouge, and so I am detaching myself to watch from an unemotional distance. Besides, I think I have always been very clear on where I stand politically. I’ve always considered myself an independent progressive, with no ties to any political party unless they are pro-queer equality. Period. And I will never make nice or forgive or welcome blatant homophobes unless they thoroughly recant and work their asses off for queer equality for a minimum of two years. Sane with racists and misogynists, so, no, I won’t be embracing MAGAfugees until I see actual atonement and change.

I feel pretty safe in saying that means I’ll never forgive any of them. Ever.

So don’t ask, unless you want to pull back a nub.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope your day is easy or whatever you want it to be, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning again.

Muscular man leaning against a pole.
Those legs!!!! Although I can’t help but wonder why he was playing basketball barefoot in what looks like abandoned public housing.
  1. As a public service, I’ve decided to share the company’s website. They aren’t inexpensive (insurance paid for mine, they won’t for Paul), but they are so worth it: click here. ↩︎

We Live for Love

Tuesday and it’s back to the office with me today. It was a marvelously relaxing holiday weekend, and I was pleased to read some more, and have ideas and work on writing, even if it was mostly scribbling in my journal. I don’t have a problem with any of it, and yes, I know I should be a little bit more concerned that I didn’t apply fingers to keyboard more than I did this weekend, but fuck it. I get to have free time and get to have down time, don’t I? And if i don’t, that’s not a life I want to live, thank you very much. It rained all day again yesterday, along with a lovely early afternoon thunderstorm. I put on season three of The Traitors for background noise and started reading and thinking and writing again, like I had done on Sunday afternoon. At some point I’ll need to funnel that energy and thought into writing on the keyboard. I also spent some time in the morning diving into the morass that is the news, which was cheery on the Ukraine front but not so much anywhere else. Ah, well.

And so it goes, I guess. The reality is the country has been on the decline for decades, but MAGA certainly accelerated the rush to the inevitable collapse. Who knows what will rise from the ashes? Will it be better or worse? I probably won’t be here to see it, and yes, I am very concerned about the midterms. I won’t alarm anyone with my usual pessimistic forecasts, because sadly I am proven right more often than not. It’s also no fun being Cassandra and not being listened to, either. I always thought she was the most tragic character in the entire story of the Trojan War, and have always wanted to write from her perspective. It would be an interesting exercise—a woman who can see the future but isn’t believed which drives her deeper and deeper into madness which makes each prophecy harder to believe? That is a particular kind of hell, isn’t it?

I wish Madeline Miller would make that her next novel.

It also dawned on me over the course of the weekend that May is almost finished, which means it will be JUNE soon…which is PRIDE MONTH. Should I be that old queen and be gauche, cliché and stereotypical and turn my newsletter into queer stuff all month? Of course, you already know the answer to that, don’t you? And yes, the answer is always yes. I think it’s important, and if queer content bothers the subscribers they wouldn’t be there in the first place. No one is making anyone read it, either. So, bearing Pride rolling up so quickly, I took that into consideration for my next reads, tabling what I had already had on deck, and switching it up a bit. My new-to-me read will be All of Us Murderers, which ticks off several boxes for me in addition to its being a queer read: it’s also a historical Gothic romance; it’s written by a cisgender-identified woman; and it’s also a crime novel. These are all things I want to talk about more in my newsletter, so I can touch on them during the newsletter about this book. I’ve also set aside The Ivy Tree as my next reread for A Queer Kind of Death by George Baxt, which I read decades ago and have an eye to see how it holds up. It’s also historic and was originally published in the 1960s, with a Black gay main character written by a gay white man…which should also prove interesting to revisit and talk about.

I feel good this morning, rested and relaxed and in a decent mood. I did do some writing–by hand–yesterday–in my journal, in which I reworked and rewrote the opening to an in-progress short story. Of course it isn’t one that fits any submissions call I have found recently, which is par for the course, but now that I am in such a period of low productivity I’ve pretty much decided that whatever pops into my head is what I should work on, rather than trying to force something that doesn’t want to be forced, which makes the most sense to me at the moment. My Achilles tendons don’t feel tight anymore, either, which is the biggest win to me of the weekend.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Till then!

The famous bust of Queen Nefertiti, whose name meant “the beautiful one has come.” And yes, it’s in a Berlin museum, and yes, the Germans need to return it because it’s loot.