Category: short stories

What’s New Pussycat?

I can tell you what right now: Sparky wants treats! Nothing new there, of course, but to him it’s what he needs to start his day of being Apex Predator of the Lost Apartment, where no pen or bottle cap is safe, and he does his part to declutter by knocking everything to the floor. He really is a doll. I just wish he liked to cuddle more in the bed. He’ll sleep and cuddle with me in my easy chair–I think this imprinted on him after my surgery, when I slept in the chair for at least two weeks–but other than that? Nope. Even if you take him to the bed and curl up with him, he’ll wiggle out and go under the bed to protect us from whatever might come down the (blocked off) chimney. It was funny yesterday; I’d forgotten to reset the alarm (I’d set it to seven for Monday and forget to reset it back to six Monday night when I went to bed), but I woke up at five, knew what I’d done, and just kept waking up every twenty minutes or so. I finally got up without the alarm yesterday at six, and Sparky was so sound asleep he didn’t hear me get up! I was already downstairs, had cleaned my teeth and washed my face and was brewing coffee when he sleepily staggered into the kitchen with his eyes half-closed, and chirped half-heartedly.

Trust me, Sparky, I know the feeling well.

I was tired last night after work and making groceries, so I collapsed into my easy chair after writing over 900 words. It was a struggle to get those 900 words down, too, but it didn’t trigger one of those oh my God I can’t make the word count for the day and does this mean I am never going to be able to write again and I am going to be behind! You know what? It’s not the fucking end of the world. I wrote 2000 Monday and 900 yesterday. I’ve done over ten thousand since I started a week ago Sunday. Paul was also late getting home, so Sparky and I hung out in my easy chair and I watched the news before reading another magazine from the stack of them here at my desk. Once Paul was home, we watched the US Open for a while before I had to go to bed. It’s very exciting to have two US men in the semi-finals, which means an American in the finals for the first time in a very long time, which is kind of exciting.

We’re in a flash flood warning for the rest of the week (!) as we are supposed to get up to eight inches of rain or more over the next few days. The weekend is supposed to be neither super-hot or excessively humid and will “feel like” fall–so that could mean anything, really. 60s thru 80s, or somesuch. LSU plays Nicholls this weekend, which I am not wild about watching. They’ll either win by a lot and with ease, which is boring to watch (and I inevitably feel bad for the other team) or it’s disappointing because LSU played badly. I’ll probably give in and watch, but will read while I do. I feel pretty good this morning–it was a bit of a struggle to get up, frankly–but it should be a good day as the coffee is kicking in and I am feeling more awake with every moment.

I hope to finish the chapter I started yesterday today; I am having fun with the book even if it is more complicated and tricky than usual (I am trying something challenging); and I am hoping the more I am able to flex my writing muscles and write more and get more into the habit of it my productivity might go up as well. I have all these essays I’ve started over the last year or so that I need to finish, and I also need to write something for the Substack; I don’t think I posted anything last week and if I want to be a professional and grow it as a marketing tool for my writing, I need to be more…regular with it. I can’t blog and write a newsletter essay every damned day, but I can write a blog entry every day and write a newsletter essay every week, even while writing a book. I can feel that I am also starting, from time to time, to get a little anxious about being so far behind on all my writing. I would like to get all of these in-progress stories and essays finished by the end of the year, but am also aware that’s a very ambitious program. I mean, it is possible, of course; everything is, but it may not be realistic. Then again I seem to be past anxiety and stress (yay correct medications!) but I am also finding that I no longer need anxiety and stress to write, which is absolutely lovely. Yes, I did worry a bit about that when my creativity was fallow, and yes, I feel much better about everything in general. It’s amazing what a difference actually writing and creating does for my mind.

But it does, and that’s just a fact. Nothing makes me more aware that I am meant to be a writer than how much better writing makes me feel. It’s also nice to be enjoying it; it feels like I’ve not really had the opportunity in a very long time to savor and enjoy the entire process, and it’s really terrific to rediscover my joy at being a creative. After almost thirty years of being paid to write, I’m finally in a place where I can just kind of enjoy myself and appreciate it more and maybe, just maybe, I’ll even be able to do more promotion when the next one comes out than I’ve been doing for about a decade.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a good Wednesday, Constant Reader, and remember that we’re on the downward slide into the weekend now!

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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.

Red Roses for a Blue Lady

Labor Day and the last day of the three day weekend and Southern Decadence. It’ll be back to work with me again tomorrow (not going to say huzzah for that, sorry) but at least it’ll be a short work week. Alas, we don’t get another holiday until Thanksgiving, but I may take some time off this fall just to relax and rest and do shit, you know? I am finding these long weekends are enormously good for me physically and mentally, to be honest. I set my alarm to get up earlier this morning rather than letting myself just sleep as late as I wanted to,, and I feel better than I have all weekend sleeping late. Peculiar and strange, c’est moi. But I do want to get some things done today while taking it easy as well. I am trying to put off going to the grocery store until tomorrow; I may be able to get away with just a short walk to Walgreens because His Majesty is out of treats…but maybe it’s better to do it today and get it over with.

It does feel like I haven’t been to the office in an eternity.

Well, LSU lost it’s fifth straight season opener last night, and while I am trying not to get terribly discouraged about the season–it always sucks to start off the season with a loss–because it’s hard to say already how good USC is; so I really don’t have any idea of how good this year’s Tigers are. I had a feeling they were overconfident, and as galling as it is to lose to Lincoln Riley of all people, they could have won the game had they not consistently shot themselves in the foot, over and over, and there were a lot of questionable play calls that left points on the field. It actually reminded me a lot of the Florida State loss two years ago. Anyway, the Tigers have an easy game next week before coming home to play UCLA, so we’ll see how they regroup. I will also say Garrett Nussmaier is a great passer, so there’s potential for a great season despite the early loss. The loss cast a pall over the Lost Apartment, and I went to bed early, planning on rising early this morning, so that worked out just fine.

I had a lazy day around the house yesterday, not really doing a lot of anything. I read some more of We Are Watching, the new Alison Gaylin1 (preorder now, it’s coming out in January) which is marvelous as is everything she writes, before spending some time watching the US Open and news clips on Youtube. My shoulder was still sore from the vaccination on Saturday (it’s still sore this morning, too), and so I thought it best to take it easy and not risk getting unwell from the shot (which has happened the previous shots); or maybe it was my brain leaning into being lazy, which is always its preference. I did think a lot about the book yesterday, and feeling actually kind of excited about it, to be honest. I am trying something with it that’s more of a challenge to me, and that’s really exciting for me. I also spent some time filing yesterday and I did get ahead on the dishes and so forth. Today I can vacuum, if I so chose; but overall I am planning on a mostly low-energy day with lots of Sparky time relaxing in my easy chair. I am also planning on reading some more this morning.

The excitement I am feeling about writing this book has also kind of had a simmering effect on my creativity; rather than bursting with ideas the way I usually am when I am writing a book, I get a new idea but it’s more developed than the usual “just a title and a character and the basic idea,” which is also cool. I am also solving problems with some short stories I’ve stalled on, so yeah, it was a good weekend in that regard, and I am also working on some essays. It’s not like I’m not working even on days when I don’t advance the word count on the book, either.

Social media, such as it is now, is becoming more and more a waste of time that I don’t need to deal with in my life, frankly. One of the major problems is that it’s an election year, which is making people drop their masks with the mealy-mouthed can’t we all be friends despite our politics and the privilege that just drips from those statements just enrages me. The difference between me and the Right is that I don’t want anyone to be stripped of their rights. The Right’s corruption of American symbols has always been more about show than belief; kind of like their religion. I apparently spent a lot more time on Twitter than I thought I did–one never really is truly aware, is one–and now that Facebook is basically circling the drain, too, I am amazed at how much more free time I have. I guess I had become far more dependent on social media than I would have preferred or believed? Yesterday was another prime example of how bad Facebook is becoming. A lesbian writer friend had posted an image of a hideous Confederate flag cake with a joke about marrying your first cousin. Some woman I don’t know took offense, and said that flag has evolved into representing all Southerners.

I beg your fucking pardon?

Yeah, I let the racist bitch have it with both barrels before blocking her skank ass. Was she another lesbian writer? I don’t know and I don’t care, but if she is a writer, if that’s the way her mind works she’s probably a shitty writer as well as a shitty person. NO ONE defends the Traitor’s Flag and claims it represents all Southern people–because it sure as fuck does not represent Southern Black people, and to say that it does is so fucking racist you need to be repeatedly slapped, shamed, and driven out of the public square.

The paradox of tolerance is you cannot tolerate intolerance.

I also figured out what I need to do with Never Kiss a Stranger, and managed to convince myself my inability to finish that book was not a failure, either of imagination or as a writer. I knew how the book ended, and I knew how I wanted it to begin, but I didn’t know how to write the middle. The fact that it also started as a novella that I decided to expand and make longer has something to do with it, too; I kept going back and forth on whether there was enough story for a book or if I should, indeed, keep it as a novella, which can be forty thousand or less. There’s really not a place to publish novellas anymore, so at best I’d be able to do a novella collection or something as I have several others on hand, too–and one is almost nearly complete. Maybe I should include it in my collection of short stories? That would definitely fill that book out.

So, despite not really doing a whole lot of writing over the holiday weekend, I am not chiding or berating myself this morning over “wasting time.” It was a productive weekend, and I am getting better at being kinder to myself. I’m still figuring out the work/writing/life balance, but what I do know is that balance is a lot better now than it’s been in several decades.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and repair to my easy chair for some more of Alison’s book. Have a great Labor Day, and never forget it was unions that got us the forty-hour work week, paid sick time and vacations, breaks, and weekends. I may be back later; we shall simply have to see how things go, won’t we?

  1. Part of the reason I am enjoying the book so much–it hit me yesterday–is the writing style/voice reminds me very much of Ira Levin, who I’ve been thinking about a lot lately; been wanting to revisit The Stepford Wives and The Boys from Brazil, especially since JD Vance reminds me of one. ↩︎

Mr. Tambourine Man

I was actually cruised yesterday!

I was more startled than anything else, to be completely honest. I had an appointment at 11:30 at the CVS on the corner of Magazine and Louisiana (where the Blockbuster was when we used to rent movies and TV shows on video or DVD) to get my new COVID booster. I made another stop on the way there, to pick up a prescription, and then headed over to Louisiana Avenue for my shot. I had actually never been inside that particular CVS (the one on Prytania is only a few blocks from the mail service and thus more convenient for me to go to), and it’s actually a nice place. So, I checked in for my appointment, and when I was directed to the privacy screen for my shot, this incredibly lovely young man in his early twenties got in the Pharmacy line. Our eyes met, and tilted his head to one side as he smiled, and I thought, as I sat down and the pharmacist closed the screen, I thought, was he cruising me? As I sat there, I thought nah, way too young and besides, I look like shit. I got the shot, which I didn’t feel (shoulder was sore later on in the evening, though; still is a bit this morning), and as I rose to go, the guy was still in line and gave me the same look, only along with the eyes up and down first, and he was indeed cruising me. I kind of laughed to myself as I walked out to my car–I would have definitely pursued this when I was younger–and remembered again how oblivious I am to that sort of thing outside of gay bars. I always was. It never occurred to me that people might cruise me in public spaces that weren’t exclusively queer; friends had to tell me all the time, “That guy was cruising you!” It certainly isn’t anything I’ve even thought about for years, so it was definitely a compliment and I couldn’t help but laugh at myself as I shook my head and started the car, “you know, some younger men like older men, dumbass.”

So, if anyone is ageist, it’s me!

Yesterday, outside of the shot and some other errands I ran, was a lazy day for me. I didn’t do a whole lot of anything; I scribbled in my journal some but the book is beginning to take shape, which is lovely. I pretty much spent the entire day cuddling or playing with Sparky while watching college football games. It was delightful seeing Georgia humiliate Clemson and Miami annihilate Florida, and Texas A&M gave Notre Dame a scare last night. Tonight LSU plays USC in Las Vegas (GEAUX TIGERS!) and we’ll get a better sense of how good this year’s edition of the Tigers are. And Tulane won big, too! We haven’t won a season opener since Joe Burrow graduated (2019 season), so hopefully that will change this year. I think I am going to do a lot of nothing today, too–I’m going to clean the house and write for a while since the game isn’t until tonight–which feels good. I slept super late again this morning and have to think my body needed the rest. I feel good this morning, the coffee is hitting and I don’t feel tired or sore physically (other than the aching shoulder from the booster yesterday), and that way if I can get everything cleaned up, organized and filed today gives me tomorrow to run to the grocery store and write.

I did bite the bullet and renewed the digital version of the Times-Picayune, despite the paper’s descent into a MAGA propaganda machine. I need to be able to read the state and local news, and much as I love local independent reporting, they don’t have the capability to cover Louisiana/New Orleans like Louisiana Sedition can. And I am leaning, more and more, into the concept of writing environmental crime stories so outsides can see what is going on here in Project 2025 Land. I am absolutely fascinated now by the Devil’s Swamp Lake superfund site just north of Baton Rouge, and I’m also researching a short story called “The Haunted Bridge”1, which is over Bayou Tortue (sometimes referred to as “Bayou Torture” on some websites I’ve seen; which is also a good title), and has a ghost story about a young woman whose prom date raped and murdered her on the bridge and threw the body into the bayou; that could be fun to write. God, it’s so nice to be excited about writing again and being creatively engaged.

Oh, and congratulations to everyone who won awards for their crime writing this weekend at Bouchercon–Barrys, Anthonys, and Macavitys all! We didn’t win for School of Hard Knox, but the nomination in and of itself was a lovely thing. It was my eighth (!!!!) Anthony nomination, which is pretty amazing, I think. I’m definitely the most nominated queer at the Anthonys! And we did have a queer winner last night; Kristopher Zgorski shared the Best Short Story Anthony with co-writer Dru Ann Love, which is awesome. Yay for Dru and Kris! They do so much for crime writers, and it’s fun to see them getting started as crime writers themselves, and getting recognition of their own.

It does look like it’s going to rain today–we didn’t get hardly any yesterday, or maybe I’m confusing yesterday and Friday; it’s entirely possible. And this kitchen is an absolute disaster area this morning, so I’d best get going on getting things cleaned up around here so I can do some writing. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later.

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  1. Yes, that’s a Nancy Drew title, and it fits two stories I want to write about–the one mentioned here and the Murder Bridge outside Emporia, Kansas. ↩︎

Silhouettes

Monday morning after a lovely weekend, and we have Labor Day coming up this weekend. Huzzah! I am a little bleary for being up so early this morning, but I don’t feel tired, just not completely awake yet. The good news is I wrote thirteen hundred words of the new Scotty yesterday, and feel very smug and pleased about it. At first I was concerned when the tap was turned off, 1300 words is nothing compared to my old output, but I realized those muscles are tight and haven’t really been used as thoroughly or regularly as I should, so they are going to need to be retrained, just like I need to be retrained with regular going to the gym. I have to slowly build back up so I don’t strain or pull one of those muscles. The weekend was nice–low humidity, and the so the temperatures didn’t feel as brutal, especially since we’ve gotten used to it “feeling like” over 110 for almost two solid months. Yeesh. I think the humidity is coming back today; I know we may have rain this afternoon. But overall, this morning I feel pretty good–at least so far–and am ready to get some stuff done.

It really is lovely to have the weekends free from everything, you know? I didn’t get nearly as much work done on the house as I would have liked, but at the same I worry the lack of pressure or any anxiety driving me is making me a bit more lackadaisical when it comes to things…despite intellectually knowing that my brain has been rewired so I have to rewire everything else to get things done. It’s a learning process, and I had thought I had my routines and so forth down to a science. And hopefully, this time around I will not teach myself the bad habits I allowed to develop over the years. We shall see, won’t we? I did also rethink some of this stuff over the weekend, too. I’ve been so rigid in my writing and how I construct a novel and rarely, if ever, varied that pattern. It was what worked for me then, and I never really had the free time to sit down and figure all of this stuff out. I’m kind of doing that now, and I also think writing two books at the same time (when I was still writing books and hadn’t yet encountered the nightmare that was 2023 kind of broke my writer brain a little bit. It happens, you know? But the rigid way I always used to write my books wasn’t working for Never Kiss a Stranger, and because it’s not my usual kind of crime novel, the unstructured writing of it made it much harder to write. If I am going to finish that book–and I intend to at some point–it needs a plot summary and an outline. Maybe that’s something I can work on while I work on this new Scotty? Stranger things have happened, after all.

Maybe, just maybe, I should do the same with Scotty, rather than making it up as I go? Again, I did that with the first and second, didn’t I? Something indeed to ponder as the three day weekend draws nearer and nearer by the day. I am excited to be writing another Scotty book, because it’s in my comfort zone, and isn’t that where I need to be to get into the swing of persevering with the daily writing, in my comfort zone? I think it’s probably smarter to write another Scotty, and then step out of my comfort zone and go back to Never Kiss a Stranger...although I did remember yesterday why I focused on finishing it in the first place. It developed from me going from finishing the novellas into a collection, realizing this one could be a really good novel, and then moving on to writing it…when what I should have been doing, if I wasn’t doing another Scotty, was finishing either Muscles or Chlorine, and I am going to write one of those next, PERIOD.

But it’s also nice to be putting thought into these things.

On the way home, I am going to stop and make groceries. Once I am there I am going to finish the dishes and laundry, possibly make dinner (or possibly not), and get the rugs back in place in the kitchen. Paul will be home, so I should make something for dinner but I’m not really sure what…and I definitely don’t like deciding while at the store itself what to make for dinner. Pizza would probably be the easiest thing, really; just got one of those premade crusts and slather pizza sauce and cheese over it. I do need to work on my cabinets, but that might be a project for the three-day weekend. I also need to revise and update the to-do list. I feel pretty good this morning, and the nice thing is that my “bad” days now are just more low-energy than depressions as deep as the Grand Canyon, like it was before. I also need to start listening to my body again. I need to stretch regularly, and I need to get back to rehabbing my arm/shoulder at the gym or I will never get back to (as close to) normal (as I can get after the injury and surgery) again. But I’m starting to fall into a routine, I’m not sleepy and groggy until well after ten every morning anymore, and getting up is more about leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed more than anything else.

I hate when I’m comfortable and have to stop.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader. I might be back later–I’m trying to write an essay about toxic masculinity for the Substack, and trying to stick to the “one essay per week” thing there. Or…I may come back over here and try to talk about something, you never know.

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The Birds and the Bees

Wednesday morning and back to the office with me today. It’s a good thing, but I did really enjoy my four days of rest and relaxation. Yesterday I did nothing. I mean, I didn’t put any pressure on myself to do anything and was just a lazy slug for most of the day. I did do some of the dishes, and I did make salisbury steak for dinner (I really do like it, and it wasn’t that difficult) and even took a nap yesterday afternoon (fell asleep for almost two hours in my chair). I watched the DNC last night, and was reminded of how much I love the Obamas; Michelle certainly burned the Republicans to the ground, and after years of them going high–it was nice to see them drag the right and Trump for the racist, juvenile filth they are. It was very cathartic to see and hear, frankly. I feel so much better about the election it’s like a whole new world for us to live in now. Oh, I know it’s going to be much closer than it should be (bigotry and prejudice will still sway some people, alas), and election night is going to be incredibly stressful. But I no longer dread the election, even if it there is an eternity until the votes are counted.

These changes over the last month or so have been so incredible. I went from feeling like I was living under another dark cloud–the same one that’s been up there since 2016–and that dark cloud just made everything else so much worse. Everything just seemed bleak, and then so much else happened in the time since. I think that also had a lot to do with the writing burnout I was/am experiencing on top of everything else awful that has happened in the intervening eight years. There were a lot of dark clouds since 2016, and of course when you’re already prone to things because of your anxiety and some deeply imbedded self-loathing that you’ve never really gotten past, it makes the writing so much harder. I’ve clearly slowed down over the last seven years or so–and the successes I’ve had I’ve not really been able to enjoy. I’ve been nominated for a lot of mainstream awards since the sewage rode the escalator down and grifted his way into the White House, which is incredibly cool.

It’ hard to believe it has only been a month since the President decided not to run again.

I’m also on the fence about Never Kiss a Stranger, and I am slowly coming to the conclusion that it just may not be the time for me to write it. I think I am going to go back over those chapters I’ve already done this week and try fixing them. I think that it’s not so much “Imposter Syndrome” or burnout or even laziness as it is maybe not the right time to write this book. Maybe it’s not a book and should just remain novella length? Not everything has to be a novel, after all. It does, as a novella, need more work; but it also needs more work as a book. And if I can’t decide right now which one it should be…maybe it’s just not the right time for me to be writing this book. Maybe I should just write another Scotty–not that it will be easy to do so–but just to get back into the swing of writing again. There is something comforting about revisiting Scotty’s world; and it means I need to revisit those books, and maybe–just maybe–it’s time to copy edit Jackson Square Jazz and get that ebook up and available.

And it’s also entirely possible that Never Kiss a Stranger is one of those projects destined to remain unfinished. I have quite a few of those on hand these days, it seems! But not everything needs to be finished, and not every idea plays out in a story or a novella or into a book, you know? I also worry about repeating myself with my work; what if I’ve already written this character or this story or used this subplot already1; the problem is I’ve been creating and writing for so long–as well as plundering old stuff for plots and character names–that the possibility of completely forgetting that I’ve used a plot or characters already is pretty high.

So, I am going to futz around the rest of this week, work on some stories, and maybe see how a new Scotty might flow for me. Hey, you never know.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later on or tomorrow!

  1. Absolutely no disrespect intended, but even Agatha Christie recycled plots. ↩︎

King of the Road

Well, happy birthday to me. It’s actually midnight and I am up far past my bedtime. I stayed up watching the Democratic National Convention, and wow, what an evening that was. Then I realized it wasn’t that long until the end of my sixty-third year and the start of my sixty-fourth. Yikes indeed! Who’d have thought the old queen would last this long? I certainly never gave it a thought, and just always dismissed with it a shrug and oh I’ll be long dead by then. Surprise! Here I am, a little at sea and dealing with the complicated feelings of being older and all that serious stuff I’ve managed to avoid thinking about or dealing with for so much of my life. And yet…here I am, still alive and kicking and with a brain that’s only slightly slower and a memory that has a lot more blanks than it used to and really, a lot less energy than I used to have but that’s all kind of normal. I am also still getting used to the free time I have now, and kind of enjoying just having no pressure on me.

There are worse things than turning sixty-three, frankly. Seventy, for example. Just kidding, I have no idea how bad or good that will feel when it happens.

I had a nice day yesterday. I went to the grocery store and mostly cleaned and picked up things around the house, and worked on the kitchen. I actually took the rugs out and shook them for the first time in I don’t want to know how long, and came down to a nice, orderly looking kitchen. I was thinking yesterday that I don’t really want to do anything today–but then realized I actually like organizing and cleaning, so won’t rule any of that out while heading into the day. I am going to try to not leave the house–I may go to Five Guys for lunch, but the jury is still out on that. We’re not in a heat advisory today, which is also kind of great–first day in many weeks that we’ve not been in one, so indeed happy birthday to me! I am also not rushing to finish this either; I am going to finish this and post it whenever I feel like it. (Who am I kidding, I’ll finish and post while I am sitting here, won’t I?)

I’m just going to do today the way I want to do today, and do what I feel like and won’t feel any pressure to do anything I don’t want to do, or rather, don’t feel like doing. It’s a very weird feeling, frankly. I realized yesterday that part of the problem is that period of physically not being able to write very much (or at all) has gotten me out of the habits, and that means I don’t remember how to focus, which is also why I am having trouble reading (I am going to try to do some this morning to kickstart those sleeping muscles and hoping that reading will remind my brain how to focus). Part of it is memory loss, of course–the COVID experience in 2022 seemingly wiped my memory banks, and that’s only gotten somewhat worse. But that’s okay. The creativity has come back (which I always worry about) but what’s missing is the focus; I have to harness the creativity and make it work for me going forward.

I also found myself, as is my wont, having all kinds of thoughts and ideas about works already in progress or potential future projects, all the while remembering all the way back when my novels first started coming out–and how different the world I first published in was from today’s. I also started thinking about my next Scotty book, and what the plot of that is going to be. Interestingly enough, I was also thinking about a future Scotty book, in which we address Cancer Alley at long last. Maybe it’s not out of my scope to write environmental crime novels set in Louisiana, exploring how the conservatives have essentially allowed the state to be looted and plundered, environment be damned, for generations and do not want any changes to the status quo. Why not me? It’ll be challenging, for sure, but doing the research will be fun and informative. Or…maybe Cancer Alley would be the kind of story that would be better for a Chanse novel? Do I want to bring him back? It IS fun to think about, to be honest.

I also decided that as I build the Substack essay audience, I have to do better work to post there. I’ve been doing it mostly the same way I do this blog–find a topic to discuss from my life (whether it’s media I’ve consumed, something about writing, the trials of being gay, life lessons learned, experiences that made me who I am today) and then sit down and write and post it, without edits or rewrites. If I ever move it to a paid model, I have to give people something that they are willing to pay for to read–and that’s why I am thinking it’s a good place for these essays, even a short story here and there, and so on–and that means I have to start thinking of the Substack in a more professional manner.

And maybe, just maybe, I should start looking at this blog as more of a professional endeavor for me than something I just dash off in the morning while I am waking up.

Big thoughts on my birthday. And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am getting another cup of coffee, heating up a breakfast sandwich in the microwave, and then I am getting into my chair with the new Alison Gaylin ARC. Happy birthday to me, and may you have a marvelous day, Constant Reader; it’s highly doubtful I’ll be back before tomorrow morning when I return to work and get up ungodly early again.

Shotgun

Monday!

Yesterday was kind of nice. I worked on the apartment and worked on some stories–mostly thinking, some writing, some notes–and started working on the desk area too. We started watching Bad Monkey (more on that later), and then spent a lot of time streaming Solar Opposites, which continues to delight. I also started working on the rugs and the floors, which is way overdue, and also did some other work on the apartment, too. I feel very good this morning, as far as being rested and everything is concerned. I slept deeply and well, Sparky woke me up around eight this morning–when I first woke up he was curled up into a kitty coil sound asleep, so I closed my eyes and turned over…which got him up and brought him up to my face to see if I was, indeed, actually awake. I let him do that for a while, before succumbing and getting up. Today is my Birthday Eve, and while I do need to make a grocery run and get the mail, I can stay inside most of the day and do whatever i please. I plan on working on the house more (cleaning out cabinets, working on the floors, pruning books) before running those errands later this morning, and it’s only going to “feel like 112.” Sigh, my power bill for this month is going to be so brutal.

Oddly enough, I just walked over to the Walgreens and back (I needed sweet and low and forgot to get some this weekend) and it was actually pleasant outside with a cool breeze? I didn’t even break a sweat, which was super nice and definitely weird for this late in the summer. I don’t know if it’s supposed to rain today or not, but it would be super-awesome if it rained all day tomorrow for my birthday, so I can stay inside and read. I’ve not decided how I want to spend my birthday tomorrow, but I know I am probably not going to do any cleaning or some-such unless I so desire. How exciting I sound this morning! What can I say, my brain isn’t waking up as fast as I would prefer! But I am on my second cup of coffee and am about to eat some breakfast, so that should help.

One would think, anyway.

I’m not feeling particularly profound or insightful this morning, but nevertheless here I am, typing away on the day before my birthday. It really is astonishing how long I’ve been keeping my blog; it’ll be twenty years this December (the 26th, I believe, to be exact). That’s a lot of entries and a lot of writing. I know I’ve missed days over the years–I’m the only person committed to this on a daily basis, well aware–but I’ve been pretty consistent with it for all these years. Apparently I was a bit more commitment-phobic in the past. I’ve now lived in New Orleans longer than I’ve lived anywhere else; Paul and I have been together for close to thirty years now; I’ve been blogging for almost twenty years, and I will also hit my twenty years at work in January. I’ve even lived in the same apartment for almost twenty years. Not bad for someone who rarely lasted in any job longer than two years at most; and I’ve also been writing professionally since I cashed my first check for writing back in 1996. That’s almost thirty years. My first short story was published in 2000, and my first novel came out in 2002. I’ll probably be more reflective tomorrow, most like.

I also wrote an essay this weekend that I published over at Substack; do check it out if you’re interested. I probably should have revised and rewritten it one more time before sending it out into the world, but the whole point of my Substack is to get more practice writing personal essays, and as with anything, there’s a learning curve. A personal essay is more than a blog entry (although they are kind of mini-essays in and of themselves, detailing whatever is going on and through my mind at the time I write the entries), and so I am slowly learning how to pull an essay together. They don’t necessarily have to be longer than the essays I’ve already posted there; they work as essay abstracts, for sure. This latest one, “Death by a Thousand Cuts,” has been idling in the back of my mind for a long time now–the original inspiration for it came from getting tired of being straight-splained, as well as being aware that straight men and women don’t really see me as an equal. It could be longer, and there are/were other points I could have made in it to further illustrate the point, but essays are really out of my comfort zone (like short stories) and so I need to toil over them a bit more and build up my confidence.

I’m also thinking I can publish short stories there, too, if I am so inclined.

Hmm, this got a little more interesting as my brain woke up, didn’t it? It’s looking gloomy outside this morning now, so I think we are definitely getting rain today. Yay!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow. Maybe later–one never can be entirely sure. I am tricky that way.

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me

Up early on a Sunday, thanks to Sparky. I got up, fed him, and decided to have some coffee and stay up. I got eight hours, did I really need anymore? I thought when you got older you slept less? I don’t know. All I know is I’m able to sleep a lot later than I used to, and sometimes my body feels like it needs more. We’ll see how today goes, and I can always take a nap if my body needs one this afternoon. I am debating whether or not to make a grocery run today or wait till tomorrow to do it. But the coffee is starting to kick in, and I have a lot of chores to get done around here today. I did go get my RSV and flu shots yesterday, ran some errands, and came home to watch more Solar Opposites, which continues to be a hilarious delight. I barbecued for dinner last night, and managed to get to bed earlier than I usually do on a weekend.

I can get everything done this morning and try to get a lot of other chores done before Paul gets up. I started writing a new essay for the Substack yesterday, which counts as writing, and hopefully I can get some more writing done today. I also got the ARC of Alison Gaylin’s January release for next year, We Are Watching, which looks fantastic, so I really do need to get back to actual reading again. I have two days left as a sixty-two year old, so kind of just easing into my sixty-third (although it’s really the sixty-fourth, you aren’t born at age one you’re born at zero; your birthday marks how many years so far you’ve completed). I cannot believe August is nearly half over already, but that means cooler weather is not that far off–and by that, I mean the high seventies, low eighties. That may seem hot to you, Constant Reader, but to give you an example, it’s going to feel like 120 in New Orleans today.

Maybe I’ll stay inside and go make groceries tomorrow. That makes more sense to me. I also have some things being delivered to the apartment today, too, so yeah, maybe I’ll wait and go tomorrow morning. Less people, less traffic, and less aggravation. Maybe I’ll treat myself to Five Guys, too, while I am over there. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had a good greasy burger, you know? I bought one of those dinner kits from Fresh Market to make for dinner; I don’t remember what, but we really liked the shrimp scampi one we had the last time I got one, and we’ve genuinely liked the others I’ve gotten. So I don’t need to worry about what we’re having for dinner today and there’s no need to get to the store to buy anything. Tomorrow night I think I’ll make salisbury steak and mashed potatoes, to change things up a bit, and then I really only have to go into the office for two days this week. Next week is a full week, but then it’s Labor Day and Southern Decadence. I’m not going down there–too many people, too hot, and I’m too old to stand around all day (which I am really not capable of doing anymore), but I hope that everyone who does has a great time while staying safe at the same time.

Ernesto is still out there heading up the east coast, churning up waves along the shore and it’s either already hit Bermuda, or is very close to doing so. There’s no other systems at this time anywhere in the Atlantic, Gulf of Mexico, or Caribbean Sea1, which is a lovely relief, but we are not out of the woods yet, either.

We had some rain yesterday afternoon, between me running the errands and cooking out, and it was a beauty of a thunderstorm. I’ve always loved thunderstorms, you know, ever since I was a kid. Is there any feeling as marvelous as being in your easy chair, covered up in a blanket reading a good book while there’s a thunderstorm outside? It’s definitely one of my favorite things. Paul and I were watching television when it happened, but Sparky did go to sleep in my lap which was very sweet and endearing for the little demon.

And I think I am going to bring this to a close this morning. I am feeling more awake now, and think I am going to go get cleaned up and get the day moving. I have chores to get done and writing to do, and I am getting a bit hungry. So I may be back later, I may not; it’s a mystery. But may your Sunday be blessed, Constant Reader, and remember to stay positive!

  1. I always spell ‘caribbean’ wrong the first time; I am always certain it only has one b and two r’s. WRONG. ↩︎

Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat

Ah, Saturday. I have things to do outside the home–vaccinations, mail, groceries, book sale, possibly gym–and I am sure it’s going to be miserably hot outside. That’s okay, I am settling into my long weekend and just relaxing. Yesterday was great. I got the labs drawn, went to the office, came home and finished my work day, and then Paul and I ran errands. We picked up a prescription for him before heading to Costco, and even that was fine. We found most everything we were looking for, I got some new sweats and a book (The Seventh Veil of Salome by Silvia Moreno-Garcia) for my birthday, and then we came home. Paul listened along with me in the car to My Dad Wrote a Porno (he agreed it was hilarious and laughed out loud several times; I forgot to sync the phone when we left the pharmacy and headed to Costco, and he insisted that I put it on again! So, I synced the phone when we stopped at the next light and we laughed merrily as we drove around. It was quite fun, and very pleasant. It wasn’t even a hassle getting everything inside and put away, either.

We then had a very pleasant evening watching a Hulu show called Solar Opposites, an animated show which is basically the same premise as Third Rock from the Sun, but way crazier and much more irreverent and completely hilarious (we never really watched Third Rock, and maybe we should remedy that). I was in a very pleasant mood, and even was thinking about writing and the short stories I’m currently working on. I am hoping to get to spend some time with at least one of them today, and if not, well, maybe I’ll have some time to read.

I slept in this morning until nine, which felt wonderful and refreshing; I knew I was low-energy and tired all week and what I really needed was a lengthy night’s deep sleep. I was out, Constant Reader, and dead as a stone. It was rather nice, and I feel rather nice this morning as my brain returns from the depths of Morpheus. I’ve not paid much attention to the news as I could have; by the Democratic National Convention starts on Monday, so I will probably be spending next week watching that and the excitement around Vice-President Harris and Governor Walz continues to build and grow through November. I am a lot more hopeful about the future now–something I am still trying to stay grounded about. It’s going to be a struggle, and even after the voting is done, I seriously doubt MAGA is going to go away any time soon–but at least we have President Biden in the White House this time around. I still think there will be violence as MAGA expels its dying breath, but at least I have hope that we won’t have a useful idiot for Putin as the most powerful person on the planet anymore, praise Jesus.

Two friends had great news this week to share–John Copenhaver’s Hall of Mirrors was on Oprah’s summer reading list (may this sell a lot of books for him) and Alex Segura (aka one of my favorite people on the planet) not only launched a new Spiderman universe comic book he’s written, but he also announced he gets to write a run of one of my favorite comics, the very little known The Question. Yay, John and Alex! I am so happy for you both! I love when good things happen to great people, you know? I really do need to spend some time reading over these next few days–the terrific new books to read are always expanding my TBR pile and I have any number of books on hand that I definitely want to read. And what better way to spend my birthday weekend by doing two things that I really enjoy–writing and reading? Yes, I am planning on doing some writing this weekend. My birthday is simply going to be a relaxing, no pressure, don’t leave the house kind of day–my favorite kind, actually–and I am looking forward to that..although I do kind of want to see the new Alien movie. I also have an idea I’d like to tackle for my Substack–as I am beginning to try to separate the blog out from actual personal essays, which is what I want to post there. The news that the Vice-President worked at McDonalds in college made me think, hey, that was my first job, too and realized another thing I’ve never really talked about is my unemployability and all the shit jobs I’ve had. (For the record, I’ve had jobs I probably don’t remember; I worked at McDonalds, Wendy’s, Burger King, Arby’s, AM/PM, Toys R Us, a floral wholesaler, Marshalls, an insurance brokerage, Bank of America, a natural gas sales company, Continental Airlines, a travel agency, Lambda Literary Foundation, the YMCA, the queer community center, Harrington Park Press, and then finally NO/AIDS-Crescent Care. I also worked at numerous gyms as a trainer or teaching aerobics in there, and of course I was always writing for quite some time. I once wrote a short story about a kid who worked at McDonalds and had no moral compass, but I realized at some point I could never publish a noir story about a kid who worked there called “Quarter Pounders,” either.

But…I could use that title for an essay about working there, and I can adapt the story to another place to eat, a fictitious one.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines for the moment. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and as always, thanks for stopping by. I may be back later, one never really knows, does on?