Category: revising

If You Love Me Let Me Know

I slept late this morning, but feel good now that I am awake. I did stay up later than I should have watching games last night, but I couldn’t turn off the Georgia-Kentucky game until the end. Georgia survived their closest non-Alabama game in quite a while, before prevailing 13-12 in a nail-biter in Lexington. My coffee tastes wonderful this morning, and I am slowly swimming up from the depths of Morpheus-induced slumber (strongly aided by Trazodone). When I first got up I debated maybe you don’t have to make groceries today but I really do need to. The Saints game starts at 1, so I’ll probably go during that to avoid traffic and other shoppers; New Orleans is a ghost town during games, and as long as I am home to catch the second half, that should do the trick. I did have a good day yesterday, despite all the games I watched; I was able to get more work done on the Scotty Bible (finding more discrepancies in the series), I did read some more of Everybody Knows, I got the dishes done finally, and did some cleaning around here, which is cool; it was nice coming downstairs and not seeing a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. I also worked some more on the books and straightened up the living room. Still need to do more cleaning, but am very pleased with the State of the Lost Apartment.

LSU played early yesterday, and it was a nail-biting, sloppy game with lots of penalties (and I feel like the officials kind of had their thumb on the scale a bit for LSU; some of the calls they made raised my eyebrows, and I was rooting for LSU. They did wind up winning, 36-33, but they look like they haven’t completely gelled as a team. Garrett Nussmeier can throw for sure, but there was also some incredibly stupid play-calling by the offensive coordinator (I was reminded of the Les Miles era; I wasn’t the only one because a headline on the Times-Picayune reads “Les Miles would have enjoyed LSU’s sloppy 36-33 win”). It was also weird because we actually don’t know how good South Carolina really is; they trounced Kentucky last week, and last night Kentucky almost knocked off Georgia, only to lose to LSU this week. After the LSU game ended, I watched Florida’s season start circling the drain again as they got trounced at home by Texas A&M, who lost to Notre Dame last week; you see how this is going? This is, I think, going to be an extremely strange season, and right now I am picking Texas to win the SEC.

Tulane also lost to Oklahoma yesterday, but they gave the Sooners what-for before going down to defeat.

I did run out yesterday to the Fresh Market to pick up a few things–fresh ground hamburger for grilling, and a meal kit of shrimp scampi for tonight–and so heading over to the West Bank today (which I was on the fence about when I got up) doesn’t seem as daunting now that I am waking up. Paul might have his trainer today, and thus will be gone for a bit anyway; perfect timing, and I can also stop for lunch at either Five Guys or Sonic; this decision is a tough one, frankly, but will probably go for Sonic. (These are the important decisions I face down every day, you know.)

I also took notes on the next chapter of the book, which I hope to tackle at some point this week. It’s Chapter Five, where I always have trouble in a first draft (come to think of it, Never Kiss a Stranger also stalled out at Chapter Five), but the good thing to come out of Hurricane Francine is now I remember how it goes and how it feels and how it sounds to ride out a hurricane. I know this is where Venus and Blaine turn this into an actual crime story–the dead body in front of their place the boys find in Chapter One–and it’s going to be really fun figuring out the rest of this book, I think. But I think I have an excellent grasp of what this chapter needs to be to move the story forward, plus it’s more of an intellectual puzzle of sorts because they can’t really go out and do any investigating because of the storm conditions. It’s so nice to feel excited about writing again, Constant Reader, you have no idea.

The story of Springfield, Ohio, and its perfectly ordinary Haitian immigrant population, working hard and building a better life for themselves and their families in this country with the opportunities here, despite the deeply imbedded racism and xenophobia they’ve surely encountered since being recruited to immigrate to Springfield to keep the town from dying. Now that the right’s candidates have decided to target that small town with blood libel and slander and racism, the town’s public schools, city hall, and hospitals have all been receiving bomb threats, because the Right has embraced stochastic terrorism for years now. There’s nothing American or patriotic about any of this, and the Right thinks it’s funny and laugh about it, particularly their Queen of Sewage, Chaya Raichik, who should be in a women’s penitentiary trying to explain how she’s not a racist to the brown women in there. Imagine being a “brand” and making money on being a stochastic terrorist, and celebrated for it. I’d actually like to see an IRS audit of Moms for Liberty and their bitch goddess to see where their money is coming from. We really don’t utilize the IRS nearly enough when it comes to lawbreaking cults and psychopaths when they are white, which is completely despicable, but part of those horrific baked-in values of racism in American society, carefully developed and nurtured over four hundred years. When I first saw they were targeting Haitian immigrants, I had two thoughts: 1. I was surprised the old blood libel about Haitians and HIV/AIDS weren’t dug up (it took just another day and 2. since it was pets, I was a little surprised it wasn’t the blood libel of Haitian satanism/voodoo’, i.e “they’re stealing our pets for ritual sacrifice!” Thanks, by the way, to perennial presidential candidate and new age lunatic Marianne Williamson, for making that connection for everyone. She’s fucking trash, and someone else Oprah owes us all an apology for platforming. She actually has quite a track record for charlatans and frauds, doesn’t she?

And on that note I am going to get another cup of coffee and perhaps some coffee cake for breakfast before I head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later, one never can be sure.

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Rub It In

Saturday morning of this disrupted and off-track week. I went to the office yesterday and did walk-in testing, primarily because I’d already been home for two days getting paid and didn’t really think it was right to then work-at-home on Friday, too. But it has thrown my routine off, just as the hurricane did, because now my days are all messed up. LSU plays at eleven this morning, which means I should make a grocery run this morning before the game starts, but I also slept late and am not really sure if I have the energy to do so before the game starts. There are also good games on for the majority of the day–which will make that trip even trickier to do later, so i really do need to get to the Fresh Market before hand. Sigh. I didn’t do much when I got home from work, either, as I was very tired; mostly watched the news and cuddled with Sparky until Paul got home–late–and then I went to bed shortly after.

I also have to go to make groceries tomorrow, too. Sigh. The run to the Fresh Market is to get some fresh meat and shrimp for the weekend. I want to barbecue burgers today–a college football Saturday thing–and shrimp scampi or maybe even shrimp creole for tomorrow night. But I need to clean this goddamned godforsaken kitchen first. I have a sink full of dishes that I’ve just let sit there all week (we were supposed to use water sparingly after the storm, because the sewers were full of water already) and of course, now it’s going to be a major undertaking. I let the entire house slide this week, which is shameful. I’m going to work more on the Scotty Bible today while I watch games, try to read some more of Everybody Knows (which is fantastic), and try to pick up around here. Next week isn’t going to be an easy one, as my supervisor will be out at a conference (which basically means everyone will come to me with questions and concerns) so it will be a lot more hectic. Sigh. I have so much to do! I guess today I’ll go ahead and make a to-do list today before I start working on the house.

Ah, there’s the coffee kicking in at last! I was getting worried as I was feeling a bit groggy still, and thought ugh is this going to be a tired day? I fell asleep in the afternoon one day this past week, during the storm days, which was wild, but hurricane fatigue is a thing. Yeah, running over to Fresh Market after finishing this and getting a bit cleaned up before the game is definitely do-able. I want to seriously clean off my desk and organize this area a bit–the great thing is I can play whatever game I’m watching on the computer while I am in the kitchen, which is very cool (something I always forget–that my desktop AND laptop are also television screens).

I also want to get some progress made on the book this weekend. I’m sure the Saints are playing tomorrow, plus the grocery trip (I may go to the West Bank, now that they’re finished installing the lights on the bridge, and may even treat myself to Sonic while I am over there), so the window for writing tomorrow could be a little tight. It’s always hard to write on the weekends during football season! But I’ll get it done. It really is impossible to be able to focus completely to write when there’s a storm on its way, or even immediately after. But the positive is the book itself is set during a storm, and now I have fresh memories of time-lines, what it’s like outside, and the tension. No matter how much you try to relax, you’re always on edge because you never can be certain the roof isn’t going to come off or there won’t be a tornado or the wind won’t pick up a tree and deposit it on your house–sometimes hurricane winds can rip the facade off a house, too. I also need to do some brainstorming on the rest of the book. I’ve got some ideas about how to write the rest, but the primary trick is going to be not using anything that can slow the narrative down–like over-explaining (what I call “filler”), because it really does need to keep moving.

And see? After a tropical weather break, I am getting right back into it again. Huzzah!

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines and get that grocery run out of the way…and perhaps start on cleaning up this kitchen, too. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader; I doubt I’ll be back today but you never know. GEAUX TIGERS!

I Can Help

Friday after the storm and I am heading into the office in a bit to see what is the situation with our testing supplies, which have to be in controlled temperatures. The exciting day job responsibilities of a Gregalicious. These interrupted weeks are always a bit difficult to re-acclimate back from, especially these sudden and unexpected ones; the ones you plan for are disruptive enough. But I have to go in on a Friday after being home for two days, to then be home again for another two days, and then go back to normal, whatever that may be now. My mind and body clock are sufficiently scrambled now, and it may not be easy getting back into the old routine again–which may not be a bad thing, if I can perhaps establish a new one out of this chaos?

Always a plus!

We finished watching The Perfect Couple, which really didn’t stick the landing, but otherwise was a lot of fun to watch. I imagine the book was probably better. Yesterday was an odd day; it’s weird to have a hurricane day (let alone two in a row) and not have to worry about working at home and so forth; it was like having a weekend in the middle of the week and now I have a day to go into the office when I usually don’t before the weekend, which is very odd. I also started reading Jordan Harper’s Everybody Knows, which is phenomenal, and I also collected all the marked information from Who Dat Whodunnit for the Scotty Bible. The next book up is Bourbon Street Blues, and what’s interesting is catching the continuity errors I’ve made over the years, which points out the need for the Scotty Bible, which I should have done after the first three when I went back to write the fourth.

The Internet is out this morning–it survived the storm, but a day later goes down? Excellent service, Cox. Fortunately I have an iPhone hotspot so I can check my emails and everything before I head into the office. The email communiqué yesterday afternoon about the office being open this morning mentioned that we’d be using generator power if Entergy was still down; which means limited access to the Internet and so forth. It could make for an interesting day, but I kind of think Entergy might have the power back on across the city by now? There are, per the outage map, still some parts of the city that are without power, but most people have it. It does look like the office is still down, but there was so little red on the outage map I doubt it will be out for much longer.

The aftermath of a hurricane–no matter the size, whether’s it’s a tropical depression or a Category –always feels like awakening from a disorienting dream. The release of tension–because no matter how calm you feel, you’re super tense waiting for the unknown–and once the storm is past, you just kind of let all the internal pressure out and feel exhausted. I didn’t work on cleaning up the house much; I have a sink full of dishes to do and bed linens to launder today, and I should probably stop on the way home to get something to make for dinner, as there is very little of anything in the house. I got a pizza for us last night (I was starving), and have to do some writing tonight when I get home. I think I am going to take some of the Bible information and put it into the first four chapters, and I may even go ahead and do second drafts while I am in there. There’s a lot of “riding the storm out” bits and pieces I can add in–the tension, the worry, the hurry-up-and-wait of it all; how the day before is simply stunningly beautiful, the howling of the wind and the steady downpour of rain. Figuring this book out isn’t going to be easy, but the time frame I was originally looking at does work–so the entire book will take place over about thirty-six hours, from start to finish, with some flashbacks to the past. I am still excited about this book, and compiling the Bible, to be honest. I don’t know why it took so long; the post-it notes have been in volumes of the backlist since before Royal Street Reveillon was published–the last two books don’t have post-its in them.

The weekend is going to be fun, methinks. A plethora of college football games to watch; LSU plays at eleven, so that will free up the day later. I am going to try to do some writing tonight when I get home from work, and I definitely am going to read more of Everybody Knows. I have errands to run and some things to get done this weekend, and I definitely need to clean the damned house. Sigh. Stop being lazy, Greg!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; one can never be entirely certain!

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Sweet Surrender

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There Won’t Be Anymore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If You Talk In Your Sleep

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

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

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

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

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

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

I also want to watch The Deliverance this week.

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

Eve of Destruction

Good morning to you, Constant Reader. Here we are on Saturday, after another rainy day and work-at-home duties. It is still raining this morning. I can see why it starts to get on people after a few days, but not me. I love it. I am up super early this morning again–I got up at six thirty (!!)–for the second day in a row that I didn’t have to, but I find I like getting up early when I don’t have to so I can get more stuff done, you know? It was great getting all my work stuff done early yesterday so I could run my errands and work on the house and so on, which I did go ahead and do. My eye appointment isn’t today, but I rescheduled it anyway for the first weekend in October.

I did start working on the Scotty Bible yesterday, which was very cool. I feel like progress is being made, you know? Paul was at the office for meetings and to finish a grant, so Sparky and I had a lovely time hanging out. I also started pulling together a cast list for the new book, and started working on the outline. I also figured out how to do the prologue, which I usually do when the book is done, and I have a great opening line to parody. As I was moving stuff around on my desk while cleaning, I pulled out my copy of Collected Stories of William Faulkner, and of course there was a place-holder marking the page where “A Rose for Emily” begins. I know, it’s not very original, but “A Rose for Emily” is one of my favorite short stories of all time, but its brilliant macabre twists and turns are absolute genius, and of course, Faulkner was a genius. Hard to navigate sometimes, but a genius none-the-less. I may reread it to dissect it again, but every small Southern town had a Miss Emily, back in the day. “I have no taxes in Jefferson” is such a great line.

I did read some non-fiction yesterday. I received a book called The Price: What It Takes to Win in College Football’s Era of Chaos by Armen Keteyian and John Talty and it’s interesting. It covers the 2023 football season, with all the conference realignments, NIL deals and money, and so on. The nice thing about it is every chapter is about a different coach or team or aspect of the “chaos”, so it doesn’t have to be read in order. I read the chapters about Nick Saban and Jim Harbaugh yesterday, as well as the one about the collapse of Jimbo Fisher’s career at Texas A&M. I’m keeping an open mind–my mantra being “change isn’t bad’–about it, but I’m watching college football with a wary eye this year; all the changes and this multi team play-off (the irony that the team that’s royal screwing last year emphasized the need for this has now lost two games already this early doesn’t escape me. They could of course run the table–look at what happened to Clemson already, too–the two powerhouses of the ACC.) But it’s a long season, and everyone counted Alabama out early last year after they lost to Texas, and they did just that–ran the table and went to the play-offs.

When I was running my errands yesterday, I had my first “understand the assignment” experience with a total stranger! I had stopped to get the mail, and of course, it was raining. So I dashed through the rain into the postal service, grabbed my mail, and ran back across the street to where I was parked. As I got into the car, I noticed Harris/Walz signs all over the iron gate of the house next door. I smiled, and decided to take a picture of it once I was safely in my car. I rolled down the window, but the gate started to open and a car pulled in. The woman got out, saw me taking a picture of her gate, and I yelled “love your signs” and gave her a thumbs-up (she also had them on her car) and we yelled it together at the same time: “I understand the assignment!” and we both laughed. As I drove off, I noticed the entire block had Harris/Walz signs, and I started noticing them on cars around the city yesterday, too. Usually all I’ve seen has been Trump decals and stickers all over those “I have a small penis so I need a massive truck” vehicles, but I also know those people aren’t from New Orleans. I mean it when I say I live in a blue dot in a red sea–New Orleans doesn’t play with that sort of thing. New Orleans is so fucking blue it’s almost black, kind of like the dark blue velvet of a cloudless midnight sky on the full moon. Think I’m kidding? Did Hillary get 81% and Biden 83% of the vote in your blue city? WHen we had more population, combining with the other blue dots in the state, New Orleans could swing a statewide election to the Democratic Party; it’s how Mary Landrieu was elected to the Senate twice here,…until she committed the colossal sin of agreeing with and backing our first Black president. The racists replaced her with Bill Cassidy1, that mental giant, because New Orleans didn’t have the electoral power in the state it enjoyed before Katrina–and don’t tell me that part of the response to Katrina wasn’t what it was because Karl Rove wanted to break the Democratic Party in Louisiana, and what better way than to traumatize and break up a solid block of voters? It’s never really recovered, either. That’s why we have those morons Cassidy and Kennedy in the Senate embarrassing us on a daily basis, and why we have a Project 2025 governor now.

The city will turn out for the Vice-President. The rest of the state may be as red as the old USSR flag2, but New Orleans thumbs its nose at their politics of division, hate, and Christian white supremacy. It’s why the rest of the state hates us, that plus we’re a majority Black city. It’s why the racists in the rest of the state are always whining about the crime in New Orleans and how ‘scary’ and ‘dangerous’ the city is; dog whistles, of course. I am white and I have lived here for almost thirty years, and yes, while we have been the victims of a violent crime committed by homophobes from outside of New Orleans, neither one of us ever feels fear here.

And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and I am going to read for a little while before I get cleaned up and going on my day. Hope you have a great Saturday, Constant Reader; I’ll have the television on in the background during games today. I don’t think LSU’s game tonight is even televised? No big deal, really.

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  1. Thanks again, Louisiana racists. ↩︎
  2. A very deliberate choice for that image, since it appears that Russia has owned the Right in this country for quite some time now. ↩︎

Hang on Sloopy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes, I’m Ready

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week before work-at-home Friday; huzzah! It rained most of the day yesterday. We are in flood watch until Saturday morning, I believe; anyway, it’s going to be almost constant raining for the next few days, which I love. I love rain, and I write about rain an awful lot, especially here in New Orleans. God, we have the best thunderstorms here. Yes, I know, it’s not so awesome for folks who get water in their houses or their cars flooded and totaled by water damage, and I hate that for people (it happened to me once, but my car was able to be salvaged, although it never ran correctly again; the flooding was the beginning of the car’s slow death). But I like being inside while it rains outside, I love the way it gets cooler and the damp in the air is weirdly biting and comforting at the same time inside. I’m also writing a book that takes place during a big storm, so yes, I am writing rain again.

But I’m writing! I ran errands after work yesterday, gave Sparky treats and dinner, and plopped the old butt down and banged out 2100 words. Transitional chapter, which I always hate to write and always think they suck when I am writing them, but got it done and out of the way. Woo-hoo! Go, Greg, go! It does feel good when I write, and my mood does seem to improve and I get more things done than I usually do when I am not writing. I think it’s because I know I want to write but I can’t let things slide during the week if I want to take the weekend off from writing, which is the goal–or at least, not writing the book on the weekend. Tomorrow night I need to outline and synopsize the first four chapters, as well as nail down character names and list them–so I can develop those characters more to make the story stronger. I love the challenge I’m presenting to myself with this book in trying to do what I want to do with it, which is also a lot of fun. I do also need to do some more research on some other things I want to put in the book–and I also think I can plant the seeds for the next one during the story of this one, which I love. Or perhaps–ooooh, interesting–a three book overall arc to play out along with the plot of the current case? That could be fun, too. I love this part of writing a book; all the possibilities and things that may or may not work, the things and situations I set up that have to be explained so I have to figure it out. I don’t know, really, if people read the Scotty series because they like the characters and want to see what they’re up to, or if they like the plots, or maybe both? I’m usually just grateful people read them at all, honestly. Everything else is just gravy.

Yesterday was also a good day at the office. I helped some people, saw my appointments, and got things done, which is always nice. I also got tired a bit, but I also ate my lunch late and once I did, I felt very much better and more energized. The drive across town to get the mail wasn’t awful; they actually fixed the lights at the Louisiana and Toledano intersections (in a row, a few blocks apart; fun when the lights are blinking and they have been for a very very long time), which made the trip go much easier as there was no four-way stop and go nonsense, and when there are neutral grounds involved, New Orleans drivers–never the most trustworthy–have no idea what to do. I got across town, on a rainy day with some slight flooding, across town and then back home in half an hour, which was remarkable time. Very little traffic; perhaps many people stayed home from work for fear of flooding. But I was in a pretty good mood when I got home. Two books arrived at the service; a non-fiction book about the 2023 season of college football, and my friend Ellen Byron’s latest in her Cookbook Shop series, French Quarter Fright Night, which is one of my favorite series. My God, so many good books in my TBR pile! I’ve just got to make time to read more! It is one of my favorite things to do, and always has been.

The rain is supposed to start today around the time I leave for work, which should be very fun and exciting. I slept well last night, too. I feel very rested and awake this morning, which is great–but strange again; why am I feeling better on Thursday than I did on Tuesday morning? I don’t think I must have slept well on Monday night, because I was so tired after work on Tuesday night, and yet…here I am, feeling good and rested again this morning. Bizarre.

I’m glad the weekend is almost here, though. I don’t mind going to work, really, other than having to get up so early every morning, and how many people can say that? I probably make it sound like I don’t like my job, but I really only resent having to get up in the morning rather than waking up organically. I hate alarms.

And on that note, I am going to get ready to head into the spice mines. May your Thursday be as marvelous as you, Constant Reader, and thank you for being here.

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Cast Your Fate To The Wind

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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