Category: shopping

Follow Your Drum

Monday morning and it’s back to the office with me this morning. Woo-hoo! It’s going to be an oddly truncated week, I fear; the holiday on Wednesday and then driving to Florida after work on Friday definitely makes me feel the sense of claustrophobia with time; the sense that somehow I won’t have the time to do everything I’d like to do so I don’t have to worry about being off-line for three days or so. Sigh.

I slept really well last night, which was great. I didn’t want to get up this morning–not that I ever do–but the clarion call of the alarm and the knowledge that I can’t avoid it for long gradually overtakes my desire to stay warm and comfortable in the bed. We had some amazing rain yesterday (I made groceries between storms and got home before the rain started up again here; I drove home from Midcity in the pouring rain but it hadn’t gotten here yet), which was nice, and I managed to get some things done around here as well. I still haven’t gotten to the floors yet, but that could just be something I do on Wednesday. I can’t quite wrap my mind around the holiday in the middle of the week, but a day off is a day off, right?

We finished watching After the Flood last night, which had a surprising twist but an unsatisfying ending. It’s good, don’t get me wrong, but for a British crime show, that kind of last episode was a little disappointing. Your mileage might vary, of course, but overall it was a good show and we really enjoyed watching. I’d intended to start House of the Dragon last night, too, but was tired by the time the show ended and knew I wouldn’t be able to really give it the kind of attention it deserved, so put it off for at least another day. Paul generally works at home on Mondays, so we’ll be able to get our dragon fix possibly tonight.

I did get some work done on Never Kiss a Stranger yesterday, too. I pulled it apart and broke the scenes down into chapters, and now get to start piecing it all together again. I do think there’s enough story to be a short novel, probably between 70-80k, and I saw lots of places where things could be expanded or new things added; there’s a second story that needs to be woven into the text, which I always knew was missing from the story as a novella, I just couldn’t think of how to weave it in while keeping it novella length, and I think that particular subplot is maybe the most important thing to the entire story? Heavy sigh. I also started creating the characters in more depth, too, and began seeing what new characters were needed for the story. All in all, a very good day’s work. It’s not going to be easy expanding this out into a novel, and I enjoyed what I was doing yesterday; it was extremely satisfying, and again I had to wonder why I always have to force myself to write when I always enjoy it more than almost anything else in the world that I do. It was lovely feeling like a writer again, which is something I’m not sure I’ve enjoyed as much over the past few years. And yes, that is sad. What I did yesterday was mostly editorial and prep work, but it was fun in a way I don’t remember experiencing in a very long time. But that could also be my faulty memory? Stranger things have happened.

I also didn’t read as much of my book as I would have liked. I did find some shorter books to listen to on the way to Florida and back next weekend, which will be fun–I’ve really gotten into this listening on long drives thing, which is a very pleasant development–but I’ll take it with me this weekend to read.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later with a pride post. One never knows!

Down by the Lazy River

Happy Father’s Day to all who celebrate. As for me, I’m meeting Dad in Florida on Friday for a nice weekend in Panama City Beach, although I seriously doubt that I’ll be going outside very much. The older I get, the less I can stand to be in the heat–which is something younger Greg would have laughed at very hard. I no longer care about being tan, either, as yet another fragment of vanity disappears from my head. Today I have to go out into the heat to make groceries, but other than that I am staying happily indoors and trying to get some more work done. We also have Wednesday off, of course, for Juneteenth, which is going to make for an odd work week, methinks, which is also payday.

I am feeling a bit groggy this morning but I haven’t had my first cup of coffee, either. Ah, there’s that first sip, sending warmth and energy through my system. I plan to do some writing today; I had a really good time yesterday unpacking and deconstructing the 20k+ words I already have done for this project, and I do think expanding it out into a novel is a good idea; I think it will make for a very good book if it accomplishes what I am setting out to do with it–and of course, as soon as I have those ambitious thoughts good old Imposter Syndrome rears its ugly head. AH, well, but feeling like I’m back inside my writer’s skin inevitably was going to trigger that, wasn’t it? Sadly, it’s all part and parcel of being a writer, and I just need to shrug it off entirely and focus on the work. So, while I generally despise Imposter Syndrome, I welcome it now because it’s a signpost on the way to getting back to being a full time writer after several years of being swamped and stressed and everything else that went on since 2016, really. It’s been almost a decade since Mom’s first stroke and she started living, essentially, on borrowed time. I think that was the start of the cloud in my brain, and that odd sense that time is running out. It feels lovely to be out of that; I’ve not experienced it for quite some time now, and I think the rest of this year might actually turn out to be incredibly productive for me. Here’s hoping, anyway.

Yesterday was lovely. Sparky got me up before eight, which was fine (he let me sleep until eight this morning), and I got up and started working. I did some cleaning, and I also did some writing, and some planning. Last night I scribbled away merrily in my journal, listing characters and figuring out backstories for them, so that they can be fully realized when I write about them. I do think this one, and the one after, are going to be some of my best work, which feels great, you know? I was also looking over the prologue to The Summer of Lost Boys, and rewrote some of it in my head, which I will need to transcribe at some point today as well. I didn’t really leave the house yesterday, which was great. I spent some time reading the new Paul Tremblay, Horror Movie, which I am really enjoying. (I always enjoy reading Tremblay; he’s one of the best of the new crop of names in the horror community, and not a single book or story of his that I’ve read wasn’t an incredibly enjoyable experience.) We finished getting caught up on The Boys (it cracks me up that the right-wingers are suddenly realizing that the show actually makes fun of them, and the ‘heroes’ they were rooting for were actually the villains. Sucks to be MAGA), and then we dove back into After the Flood, which is absolutely terrific and interesting.

Oh! And House of the Dragon returns tonight. Huzzah!

I slept well again last night, so getting up to Sparky’s determination to get fed was fine with me this morning. The first cup of coffee is currently working its magic in my bloodstream and I am waking up, which is marvelous. I do have some things I need to do this morning–the kitchen is a bit of a wreck this morning, and the floors need to be done–but I am hoping to spend the day, outside of the grocery store, inside working on the book and getting my shit together for the week. Make a to-do list, try to remember all the things I want to submit to, and get organized. I never feel organized, and haven’t in a while, which is part of the off-balance thing that’s been going on since 2016 or so.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday/Father’s Day, and I may be back later with some other posts about being gay and Pride and other great moments from my gay life.

Roll Away the Stone

Saturday morning and Sparky flatly refused to let me sleep in this morning, but in fairness, I got a little more than an hour of extra sleep. My back feels a bit stiff this morning, but I do feel rested, and the coffee will most likely clear the cobwebs. I have to run to the grocery store today, and that may be all I need to leave the house for today, which is perfectly fine with me. It looks beautiful outside, but I am sure it is the usual forecast for New Orleans: hot, humid, chance of rain. I haven’t looked at the hurricane center yet to see what’s going on with the tropical systems trying to form, but I’ll most likely do that once I’ve finished this.

Yesterday was a nice work-at-home day. I did pick up the mail (got my copy of James Polchin’s Shadow Men, a queer true crime case from the 1920s, which is all kinds of awesome). After I finished working for the day, Paul and I finished watching season 3 of Bridgerton, which we both greatly enjoyed, before moving on to The Acolyte and the new season of The Boys, which is its last. I did some writing–I started pulling the novella apart, in order to do an outline and get a better idea about how to expand it; I actually want to start writing today, if I could be so lucky, I also intend to spend some time reading today; I need to reread some things I have in progress, and would also like to get started on my next read, Horror Movie by Paul Tremblay, which I am really looking forward to; Tremblay is one of my favorite writers. I also want to get the house cleaned up some, as well as make a grocery run at some point in the afternoon. (We don’t need much, really, but really need what I have to get.)

I also worked on my body culture pride post, which actually has now turned into quite a lengthy personal essay; so much so that I may not ever post it here. The essay itself can go on my Substack; I’ve been putting the Pride posts there as well as here because, I don’t know, it just seemed like a better place for them–which seemed silly to post them in both places. Last night, the recognition that the essay was probably a Substack only post made me think about what I am doing with a Substack and a blog, and last night I realized that I should use the Substack for longer form personal essays and keep the blog as it has always been; a daily report on my life and the occasional discussion of a book, television show, or film I’ve greatly enjoyed; the reviews might go in both places, too. I think I can still make the body culture post, but the essay will have to be whittled down and revised; maybe I should do it from the perspective of life lessons learned from getting in shape and actually working as a personal trainer. (Again, seeing that turn into a longer form essay even as I talk about it here and think about it as I type.) Writing these is also an exercise in memory for me, which also is kind of helpful as I am researching the early 1970s in the Chicago suburbs.

I have to admit I greatly enjoyed season three of Bridgerton. Penelope has been one of my favorite characters since the show started, and I’ve always deeply empathized with her as she was ignored, made fun of it, and made to feel invisible. It made sense for her to be Lady Whistledown, and the choice given to her by the show–either Lady Whistledown or the love of her life–was very cleverly done. I wanted her and Colin to resolve everything and get their happily ever after, but I didn’t think it was fair she had to give up who she was in order to get it, you know? This season really emphasized how shitty life really was for these society women during that period, and I’ve always been fond of the actress who plays her mother (she was magnificent in Rome as Atia of the Julii), and this season gave her a chance to really shine as well, as she realized the daughter she always overlooked and never thought would amount to anything was actually the true jewel of her children–and who made the best match in the end. (I also predicted the end several episodes in, involving the Featherington money and title.) It was, all in all, very well done, and I think it may be my favorite of all the seasons, and precisely because Nicola Coughlin is such a compelling actress. It’s nothing serious, of course; Bridgerton is a light fluffy confection, meant to look beautiful and present this wonderful tapestry of what Regency England could have been like, and who doesn’t love a tricky romance with obstacles that must be overcome?

I’ve always wanted to write a romance, but in all honesty am not really sure if I can. I think I’ll put that on the writing agenda for 2025. Why not try? It would most definitely be a challenge to write, and I always prefer challenges.

And on that note, I am going to finish this, get another coffee, and get my day underway. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later on. I’m tricky like that. 🙂

This is NOT why I am a football fan, but it certainly doesn’t hurt. 🙂

Nice To Be With You

Monday morning and back to the office with me today; huzzah? It was a nice, lovely weekend around the Lost Apartment, one in which I felt really good about my writing life and resettling into what is the new normal for my life these days. I’ve kind of gotten off the treadmill of endless deadlines and volunteering, and all this lovely extra free time has been spoiling me a bit, which is why I’ve not really been getting anywhere with my writing lately; I’m not used to the luxury of time, and now instead of scheduling my days to within an inch of their lives…I don’t have to do that anymore, and it’s nice. I need to adapt to reading every evening again, and doing some writing before calling it a day and repairing to my easy chair.

I actually overslept this morning. I set my alarm, but forgot completely that the power had been off, taking my alarm setting back to 12:00. Fortunately, Sparky was hungry, and he is relentless when he’s hungry (of course, he has no ability to feed himself, so ignoring him to sleep a little longer is actually kind of mean), and I looked at the clock and was like oh shit that was a close one. So he saved the day, kind of, which is always appreciated. As I sit here swilling coffee, I still have time to get to work on time this morning, despite having to assemble the carrot cheesecake and put the frosting on (I also need to make the frosting; I’m just doing homemade whipped cream–you can never go wrong with whipped cream, ever), and then load it into the cake carrier and hope I don’t have to suddenly slam on the brakes in the car. It’s generally not a great omen to start your work week by oversleeping, but I feel fine and I’ll get to work on time. The morning feels a bit off, but it’ll straighten itself out before long, I am sure. But I made the cake yesterday and pretty much have the mess already cleaned up, so there’s not too much to do once I get home from the gym today. I am thinking about making meatballs when I do, but I don’t know how much trouble I want to go to after the gym (yes, I am stopping at the gym on my way home from work; I even brought clothes to change into), and then it’s home to do some more writing.

I pretty much have decided that the next thing I am going to work on is Never Kiss a Stranger, and I am going to take it from novella to novel. It simply doesn’t work as a novella; one of those “way too much story to condense here” but we’ll see how it goes. I am not limiting myself on how long it’s going to be, and I am also not going to force it to be a novel, either. If there’s only enough story for forty thousand words, I’ll write another and combine them into one book. I also think the Chanse story I was going to write as a novella might actually be a novel, too. I also have another Chanse novel idea that I am going to explore, too. I am also not limiting myself to the Murder in the titles anymore, either.

The “christian” author who came for Dolly last week is really sorry she made everyone mad by claiming Dolly is not a good person because she doesn’t call out sin. Ericka Andersen isn’t sorry for any of her foul, unchristian values and beliefs; she’s just sorry she used Dolly as her example–which is hilarious; her entire piece is predicated on Dolly and her goodness; there’s really no one else she could have used. The backlash is everything she deserves and more; The Federalist also needs to apologize to everyone for running that disgusting hit piece, and whatever editor okayed it is too stupid to work as an editor at any time. Imagine signing off on a piece attacking Dolly Parton for not being Christian enough! Everybody loves Dolly; her icon status is only limited because we haven’t reached the stars yet with the good news of Dolly. Ericka Andersen–an admitted alcoholic who only got sober thanks to God (which begs the question, didn’t God make her an alcoholic? She clearly didn’t learn the lesson She intended Ms. Andersen to learn from her struggle with alcohol)–is the absolute worst kind of Christian, and I hope this follows her for the rest of her life.

Christ, not even Newsmax or OANN would have signed off on that piece. Jesus.

I did have a lovely weekend. It was extremely hot all weekend, so I spent most of the weekend indoors as much as I possibly could. Going to make groceries yesterday was absolutely miserable. I also need to get a window screen thing for my car; it gets so hot inside that it’s miserable getting inside after work, or any time during the summer. The car was so hot yesterday that when I closed the hatch after unloading the groceries I touched the metal and pulled my hand back, almost certain it had been scalded. It was not, but I used the handle after that–and even it was hot to the touch. Yay, and it’s not really summer yet!

We did watch more of The Acolyte last night, and followed that up with Easy A, the movie where I originally fell for Emma Stone, and the movie is very interesting, particularly from a “teen movie” perspective. It owes some to The Scarlet Letter, of course, and maybe what I should do at some point is a “teen movie” blog; how it evolved from the beach movies and Disney family comedies (think Kurt Russell as a teenager) to the teen sex comedies and John Hughes and so forth. But Easy A could have never been filmed back in the 60s and 70s, and probably not even in the 80s or 90s–because female-centered sex comedies are rare, and her character would have been seen as a “bad influence” on teen girls of the time. But the movie also parodies teen rom-coms, too, which elevates it over your average teen movie.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, everyone, and I’ll probably be back later.

Morning Good Morning

Sunday morning and I slept late, which is fine, really. I keep forgetting that sleeping in on my days off isn’t a criminal act of any kind. After so many years of keeping myself overly busy and so I was always behind on deadlines and so forth, I’ve kind of gotten into the insane mindset that sleeping late is a waste of time that could be better utilized, writing or cleaning or reading. I do have some things I need to get done today–mostly running to the store to get the things i need to make a carrot cheesecake for a co-worker’s birthday tomorrow–but if i manage my day properly, I should be able to get things done.

I spent yesterday running errands, and trying to get things cleaned up around the house while dipping into two books–The Berlin Stories by Christopher Isherwood and Ode to Billy Joe by Herman Raucher. I ordered the latter from ebay after I started doing my research into Robby Benson for the post I made about the crush I had on him as a teenager; realizing the movie script and novel were written by Herman Raucher made me interested in reading the book, as well as wondering about Summer of ’42, and so I ordered copies of each. Billy Joe arrived yesterday, and I was curious about it. Usually novelizations were work-for-hire arrangements and the author used a pseudonym; some are better than others, of course, but just reading the first chapter of Billy Joe I can tell it’s head-and-shoulders above most novelizations, and it’s probably more thorough in telling the story than the movie was, which has me interested. I’ve also been thinking about The Berlin Stories lately, after watching the film Christopher and His Kind, and may revisit it again, too, for Pride Month; Isherwood is one of the literary gods of the gay canon, and the opening sentences of Goodbye to Berlin are perfect for parodying in the prologue to the next Scotty. I still have to finish my reread of Michael Thomas Ford’s Suicide Notes, and I think I’m going to bump the new John Copenhaver up on my TBR list. It is Pride Month, and I should immerse myself in queer lit for the month, don’t you think, Constant Reader?

I also want to write about Summer of ’42 at some point. Like The Other, it was an early read that was very influential on me, and one I often don’t think about when I do think about influential works I’ve read or make a list. I really do need to sit down and identify the books that really impacted me and the way I write; The Other, Summer of ’42, and so many, many others. I also want to write today; I didn’t really yesterday, but I did spend some time yesterday doing research; i.e. watching Youtube videos on the Oklahoma true crime story that fascinates me still, as well as ones that review the 1970’s and pop culture and what was going on those early years of the decade, which is when the book will be set. I think I am moving in a more historical direction rather than writing about the current day; Never Kiss a Stranger is set in the 1990s (1994, to be exact) and of course The Summer of Lost Boys is going to be set in either 1972 or 1973; I can’t decide which, although I suspect 1973 is going to end up being the winner when I finally have to decide.

We finished Under the Bridge last night, and it’s most excellent; I highly recommend it. Based on a true crime novel about the Reena Virk murder in Victoria, British Columbia back in the 1990’s, Reena was beaten badly by a group of girls–some she thought were friends–and then after the others left her broken and injured and bleeding along the river bank, a boy and a girl came back and basically, finished her off. The show reminded me a lot of Megan Abbott’s work; Abbott always writes about the mysterious world of female relationships, female rage and jealousy, and that’s what Under the Bridge does so beautifully. The acting is extraordinary; a real standout is Javon Walton as Warren, the young boy who kills Reena. Walton is very handsome in that young way, and I looked him up because the performance was so extraordinary, and turns out he also played Ashtray on Euphoria, who was one of my favorite characters on that show. Do watch it when you get a chance. I’m going to get a copy of the book now, too. Yay, more things to read! Just what I need!

We also started The Acolyte, but I was sleepy by the time it started and kept dozing off. No judgment on the show, I was just tired.

And on that note, I think I’ll head into the spice mines. I’ll probably finish the dishes this morning while making a grocery list, and then I’ll dash to the store and get gas. I may even finish one of these other Pride blog drafts, so have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later.

American Pie

Saturday! Woo-hoo!

Yesterday was an odd work-at-home Friday. Our power went in and out a few times during the day, and that threw everything off–laundry, work, plans for the day. But it did gradually and eventually all get finished in the end so Paul and I could spend the evening riveted by Under the Bridge. We only have two episodes left and it’s soooo good, and so delightfully queer-which was a delightful and unexpected surprise. Lily Gladstone continues to own the screen, and I can’t wait to see the final two tonight when Paul gets home from tabling at Pride for Saints and Sinners.

I slept really well last night, which was marvelous. I woke a bit later than I originally had intended, but that’s okay. I want to get some more cleaning done around the house this morning before I take books to the library sale, pick up the mail, and make groceries; then I intend to get some more writing done today. I did some more thinking about it last night before Paul got home, and I think I almost have the voice right. I also did some more research while he was at the gym–nothing like reexamining pop culture and the news during a distant time period (note to self: TV Guide archives must be checked as well), because it brings back memories, which also helps put me in the right mental place to write and create the story. I also kind of know how the story is going to go, and I also came up with another idea for the beginning, which I also really like. (I just had one of those imposter syndrome moments, where my brain suddenly panics and thinks, that isn’t going to work. Sometimes I really hate my brain…

During one of the power outages yesterday I decided to use the time productively and walked to the gym to do rehab exercises. It made sense when I thought about it–I mean, without power or Internet I can’t work, so utilize the time, right?–but after getting damp with sweat walking over there on a “feels like 105” afternoon, sweating more during the rehab exercise, and getting soaked with sweat walking home to a house without power that was getting hotter wasn’t perhaps the wisest choice? The power was still out for about an half hour or so at that time, so I took a very quick shower while the apartment began cooling down again and felt ever so much better. I also don’t feel exhausted or tired this morning, so maybe physically I am beginning to get back my stamina and getting back to normal, which is terrific. I was starting to worry that I was never going to do so, and I am nothing if not incredibly impatient.

I also watched Ode to Billy Joe yesterday (the film is on Youtube for those inclined to watch it again) because I’d been looking into Robby Benson for a Pride post, as he helped me understand that I liked men instead of women–so, so beautiful–and I realized I’d never watched this movie….and the movie, it turns out, is what fleshed the song out to give us a reason why Billy Joe jumped off the bridge; he’d been with a man, and the shame drove him to it because it was such an ugly thing to be that suicide made the most sense as an option. I’d heard the theory that he killed himself for being gay before, but didn’t realize it came from the movie…and the novelization of the script was written by Herman Raucher, who’d also written Summer of ’42, a coming of age novel and movie that were also kind of formative for me. Looking into it, it was released in the summer of 1976. We moved to Kansas that summer and the movie didn’t play locally, and I’d never watched any of its television airings. Anyway, the movie was interesting but there were lots of parts to it that didn’t play well for me today–I am always prickly about the way films have rural Southern people talk–but keep an eye out for my Robby Benson post if you’re interested in him.

I do feel good this morning, which is nice. I’ll go get cleaned up in a bit, but am going to work on either entries or the prologue this morning. I also plan on doing some rereading of my own work today–I am definitely moving Never Kiss a Stranger to the top of the to-write pile, because I am not entirely sure about the y/a I want to turn from novella into novel; I’m not entirely sold on the plot, to be honest. I also want to work on the kitchen this morning, too; I did buy the wrong vacuum cleaner (mine is a rug cleaner; so I can put water and shampoo in it to clean the carpets too, but it does work as a very powerful vacuum, so I’ll go ahead and use it–and maybe next weekend, I’ll clean the Oriental rugs with it.

Yesterday the right, through The Federalist, decided to come for Dolly Parton and basically call her a false prophet and a “danger” to Christianity. The recovering alcoholic who wrote the hit piece, Ericka Andersen, is about what you’d expect: a self-righteous born-again Christian who thinks she knows the faith better than anyone who ever lived or ever will live, which of course is apostasy, but she’s a soulless troll who got the attention she wanted. Andersen’s social media is now completely shut down as she is in the find-out phase of coming for Dolly. Dolly has not only given the world decades of amazing music and entertainment, she is also one of the most generous people alive, using her money and her fame to do good works in the world and is always kind and understanding and sympathetic; the woman literally loves everyone even her harshest critics. If ever there was an example of what it is like to truly follow the Christian path, it’s Dolly Parton–but you know, giving kids free books, donating millions of dollars to charity every year, and her incredible generosity to her employees at Dollywood? Sorry she won’t condemn people you don’t like, cosplay Christian piece of shit. And for the record, Megan McCain is married to the head of the Federalist Society–which is all anyone needs to know about what utter and complete garbage they are.

Seriously, they’ve come for Taylor Swift and now Dolly. Next thing you know they’ll come for Cher–which is something I would love to see them try.

And on THAT note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, and I’ll be back later, okay?

Open Up Your Heart

Friday work at home blog! I do have to ZOOM into a department meeting this morning, but other than that–I am home for the day. It’s also a co-worker of whom I am rather fond’s last day, and everyone is going with him to happy hour, and I may join them; we’ll see how I feel later this afternoon. The way I am feeling this morning, though–like something the cat dragged in–I may not. I did sleep very well last night; I did get the laundry done last night but didn’t go near the dishes, and I haven’t assembled the new vacuum cleaner yet. I was tired when I got home from work last night, but did do a little bit of writing. I am very pleased with the work I am doing, if not thrilled about how long it’s taking me to finish, but I really don’t want to move on from this until I have it correct.

We watched another episode of Under the Bridge, which is extremely well done. I had wanted to watch this as soon as I’d heard of it, and then it was mentioned on the Facebook page about the Oklahoma true crime I’m moderately obsessed with, saying there were similarities in the two cases. (Under the Bridge is based on a true crime novel, which I am going to read at some point.) But the best part of the show is Lily Gladstone as Cam, the investigating cop. I never saw Killers of the Flower Moon, primarily because I am tired of Leonardo diCaprio, and didn’t think I could sit through three hours of him acting, but I was curious about Gladstone, and she is fantastic in this, as is Riley Keough and the rest of the cast, and it’s very well done. Not sure where it is going or how it’ll end–I am resisting the urge to look up the case–but as of two episodes I can highly recommend it.

After all the rain this week it looks like we’ll be having sunny weather all weekend, which also means heat and humidity. I want to get to the gym twice this weekend, need to make groceries (I promised to make a co-worker a carrot cheesecake for their birthday Monday), get the vacuum cleaner together and do the floors, and get the car washed. I want to get this prologue finished, and I’ve also realized that the project I wanted to work on next probably isn’t the project I want to work on next after all–so the choice is to read what’s already done, hoping it will trigger interest in working on it, or i am going to move it to a back-burner and move another project up…I mean, both have been on the back-burner for years, so does it really matter which one gets finished first? No, not really, only to me, and I really need to not get too rigid and inflexible (as I tend to do, grasping onto something and stubbornly refusing to see reason) about any of this stuff. It’s also heading into the second or third week of June or something, which is nuts.

I’d also like to do some reading this weekend. My TBR pile has always been out of control, but now I have so many great new ones on hand–John Copenhaver, Kellye Garrett, Amina Akhtar, Celeste Ng, Scott Carson, Stephen King, Lori Roy–that I cannot decide what to read next and it really is an embarrassment of riches, is it not? I also saw that Megan Abbott will have a new book next year, and so will Laura Lippman, I think. I really do wish I could just take some time off and spend it reading but even then I don’t think I’d even make much of dent in anything. I’ll take some books with me to Florida later this month when I go over to see Dad, and of course I am going to go up there for a week in October–more reading! Huzzah! I also think I’m going to stay here for Thanksgiving, but take that whole week off, which would be a really nice thing.

And on that note, I think I’ll head into the spice mines for now. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll try to get some of these other Pride entries done over the weekend.

Sylvia’s Mother

Thursday last day in the office blog, and how are you this morning? I slept really well last night again, and am a bit groggy with my coffee thus far but things are starting to clear up, which is lovely. Yesterday was a pretty decent day. I was tired when I get off work last night–I actually had to do walk-in testing yesterday as the clinic was slow, and I’d gotten so used to my regular clinic clients that I’d forgotten what it was like to do that, and it was a bit draining. I think that was because I was out of practice with it? Anyway, I ran some errands after work (my vacuum arrived!) and I also picked up my copy of John Copenhaver’s new book, Hall of Mirrors, which is a sequel to The Savage Kind, which I really enjoyed. Paul was late getting home, and of course Sparky was a terror last night. He turned off the power cord to the wifi, and took me a while to figure out that he’d committed such an egregious sin. Sigh. I even reset the modem. Gotta love a Big Energy Kitten.

I was also delighted to see a list of “must-read” queer crime novels for Pride Month, compiled by John Copenhaver, which included me and my Bury Me in Shadows, which was a lovely and delightful surprise. You can read that here. It’s a very impressive list to be included on, and I was enormously flattered and got a bit of an ego boost from it, in all honesty, and it kind of felt good. Writers live in so much of a vacuum, for the most part, and get so many blows–and those are what we remember–that when something nice like that happens, it’s always a delightful surprise and it makes my day. God, what amazing books I have in my TBR pile, and how on earth am I ever going to decide which one to read when I finish my current? It also occurred to me last night that maybe my recent disinterest in reading has something to do with still trying to find the voice for this prologue–I can never read when I am still in the weeds with something I’m writing, because I don’t want to try to mimic the voice I am reading with what I am writing, if that makes sense? I’m getting closer to the right voice, and hopefully this weekend I can get that all finalized and cleaned up once and for all. Paul is going to be at Pride all day Saturday, manning a table for Saints and Sinners, so I’ll be home all day by myself, which will give me lots of time to get things done. After I finish working tomorrow, I’ll run errands so I won’t have to over the weekend, and so if I get everything done on Saturday that I need to, I can enjoy Sunday with Paul streaming things all day. I’m very excited for this new Star Wars show on Disney….but then I am always excited about anything new and Star Wars.

I do feel a bit tired today–physically, not mentally–so I think after work tonight I am just going to come home and finish the chores. I started laundry last night, and I have dishes to put away. I still need to try to repair the garbage disposal, which I should try to do tomorrow night/afternoon after work. I also need to try to clear out my email inbox again–I have fallen behind on a discussion that I will need to catch up on–but I also think I am going to assemble the new vacuum cleaner when I get home and finish the other chores, and will then do a trial run on the kitchen rugs. My word, the exciting life I lead, right?

And on that exciting note, I am going to head into the spice mines for the day. I may be back later; you never know. Have a happy Thursday, Constant Reader!

Look at this shot–tell me wrestling isn’t soft core gay porn!

You Are Everything

Tuesday morning and trying to get awake fully; my mind is awake and my body is, but I still feel a bit groggy. I slept well, which was absolutely lovely, and am sitting here swilling coffee and getting mentally prepared to face the day. I have to run errands tonight after work (prescriptions, mail, gym), and then I am going to come home and just chill for the evening, maybe do a little writing. I didn’t do any last night, because I wanted to watch the regional final (LSU lost in extra innings to the fourth ranked team in the country and could have won), after which I didn’t do much of anything just puttered around the kitchen doing chores until it was time for bed.

The LSU loss was disappointing, of course, but the Tigers made a helluva run in the post season. Just three weeks ago, no one thought they’d even make the post season, let alone get to a regional final. But then they had their amazing run in the SEC tournament, eliminating top ten teams left and right before giving Tennessee a run for their money in the final. So, well done, guys! Sure, another world series run would have been fun this year, but not having one does in no way diminish or undermine how magical last season was, or make it any less wonderful to remember. GEAUX TIGERS, and we’ll see you again next spring….and now it’s time to start gearing up for football season, which isn’t that far off. Woo-hoo!

I’ve been posting my Gay Moments in Greg’s Life entries, which has been kind of fun doing. Right now, I have several drafts in progress about dancing in gay bars, circuit parties, and body culture–which all will be interesting to write–and of course at some point I will probably write about HIV/AIDS. I enjoyed writing my Pride entry and the ones about The Other and Starsky and Hutch; probably will do Robby Benson, Playgirl, and Gordon Merrick at some point, too. I also will probably do some others, but right now I can’t think of what they might be. I’ve also started posting these longer form posts to Substack, too–if you’re reading them here, I don’t imagine there’s any need to read them there–but I think I need to start building up things; I don’t know if social media numbers or Substack followers or anything like that will matter in the long run in publishing. No one ever really knows what publishers are looking for or want; their criteria is ever changing but what isn’t is that the accountants also have their thumb on the scale. It is to my everlasting disappointment that my career started right when the industry began to substantially change from what it had been since the Depression to the disheveled mess it is now. At any rate, I think Substack is the place for me to post my personal essays, which is much easier than trying to find a place to publish any of them. Set a goal of perhaps one per week after the Great Moments in Greg’s Gay Life, or my pride celebratory posts are completed.

Something to consider, any way.

I know Substack is evil, but isn’t everything nowadays? The glory days of social media are, I think, finally past us; Twitter (fuck you, Musk) and Facebook aren’t nearly as much fun as they were over a decade ago, and kind of feel like some pointless obligation and reflex activity that really isn’t what’s cracked up to be anymore. It never really was, to be honest, and it was a horrible waste of time more than anything else, really. It also creates a bizarre illusory reality that bares no resemblance to real life. How many times have I been excited to meet someone because we’ve had a lot of fun interactions on-line, only for them to be like “who are you?” I noticed this early on, back in the days of Livejournal’s heyday when everyone blogged (and here I am, twenty years later–this blog will turn 20 on 12/26/24); you don’t really know someone from on-line social media interactions, and you’re certainly not friends. Needless to say, it was a learning experience (I never have really understood friendship, in all honesty; what I think it is clearly is not what other people think it is, and maybe that’s a me problem–which is why I always have so many walls I can withdraw behind, so many masks I can slip on; when you grow up queer in a homophobic society, you develop lots of coping mechanisms), and I always now just say “we know each other on-line” instead of “oh I love her! We’re friends”.

Now that social media has turned into what it is, I am not on it as much and…I don’t really miss it? And it’s very noticeable how much time I used to waste on it.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely Tuesday and who knows? I may be back later.

Bongo Rock

Today is two things–the start of hurricane season and the start of Pride Month. I have a Pride post that I definitely want to finish and post at some point, and I’ve not really decided what kind of entries I want to do–social media and here–to mark the month. I still think the thirty-four convictions of Greg Stillson was the best gift for Pride American queers have ever been given, to be honest, and I still am a little in shock that it happened–trial and verdict. And of course the traitors have all lost their treasonous little minds, too–my personal favorite is “if they can do this to him they can do it to anyone!”

Um yes, that’s precisely how laws and the judicial system work–no one is above the law in the United States.

Period.

I way overslept this morning, but we stayed up super late last night watching Bodkin (we only have two episodes left to go, and it’s really interesting; much more complex and clever than I’d originally given it credit for) but I wound up not getting into bed until midnight, and I didn’t get up until about nine thirty this morning. While I wanted to sleep in, I didn’t want to sleep in that late; I feel discombobulated and like I won’t be able to get the things done this morning I wanted to get done–but that’s just loser talk, methinks, and a way to give myself excuses for not taking the books to the library sale or washing the car or picking up the mail and dry cleaning or go to the gym. But now that my coffee is kicking in, I’m feeling more alive and awake and like fuck yeah I can get that shit done, get out of my way.

Always nice.

Yesterday was a good day. I worked at home, got all that done while laundering the bed linens, and ran my errands, did some cleaning around the house and later in the day we had a massive and marvelous thunderstorm. I grabbed The Rival Queens (my current nonfiction read) and spent some marvelous time with it in my easy chair. I do love that period of time, and I’ve always wanted to write about an adventurous fictional woman who was a member of Catherine de Medici’s Flying Squadron; an accomplished seductress spy, navigating the complicated politics of France during the Wars of Religion and the decline of the Valois dynasty. It was truly a fascinating period, not only in France, but throughout Europe. My next non-fiction read will probably be The King’s Assassin, the book on which Mary & George was based, and that’s another fun period I would like to write about. Someday. There really was nothing like the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries for upheaval and Game of Thrones-like cutthroat politics.

I also watched LSU’s thrilling baseball win over Wofford in the regionals yesterday, and they play again today at 4. GEAUX TIGERS!

I also looked at the submissions call for the story I am working on–thinking the deadline was May 31 only to discover it was actually June 1, which means I can let the story sit a while longer before revising it one more time to see if I can make it stronger. I am very pleased with how it’s going so far, and looking forward to getting some more writing done today. I am a little behind on my schedule thus far (the one I made earlier this week, remember?), but the deadline being later certainly has made that a bit simpler and easier to navigate without feeling pressure.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and head into the spice mines. I’ll most likely be back later–that pride entry I want to write–and I also need to think about what kind of entries to do for Pride Month. Anyway, have a lovely Saturday, and I’ll check in with you again later, okay?