Category: Southern Gothic

(Now and Then There’s) A Fool Such As I

Wednesday and Pay the Bills Day has rolled around yet again, which is fine. I was tired when I got home from work (I also picked up the mail), so just was kind of blah. I got about 1800 words done yesterday, which was good. They were not good words, but they were words, and I am counting that as a win and progress. Paul is still not feeling quite up to snuff yet, so it was a rather quiet evening at home. We’re watching Palm Royale, and I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m still not really sure what it is, to be honest, but it’s okay, I guess? Maybe another episode, and I’ll see if I want to continue. The cast is really quite good, but I’m not really sure what the show is all about, or what it’s supposed to be, if that makes any sense? I mean, I know I should feel some sympathy for the main character, but what she wants and needs is inexplicable to me so far. Ah, well.

I slept really well last night and feel pretty rested this morning. Whether that means I’ll make it through the day feeling that way is another question, of course. But I feel like I’m back into my normal groove, whatever that may be now, and like I said, I did get some writing done last night, so hopefully tonight I’ll be able to do more. I also need to get into the gym one night this week, probably not tonight, but potentially tomorrow will work as well.

It’s kind of nice to realize that, stamina issues aside, I am healed and whole for the first time since January 2023. And now I need to figure out a lot of stuff, as always. But it’s nice to feel clear-headed for a change, and rested, and relaxed. I had literally no idea how much I’d accepted my high anxiety as normal, and how lovely it is to have that constant inner voice silenced. I’m doing good work when writing, too–the first drafts are of course horrible, but I am very pleased with the revisions. I also need to update my to-do list, so I have a better idea of everything I want to submit to and try to time out my work going forward. I know I need to get this last short story I wrote revised by Sunday, and I’d like to finish the one I started last week. I need to finish “When I Die” and another one for the collection and then it is finished; praise Jesus and pass the ammunition. I also think I’ll be able to get this other y/a revised this year and submitted as well. And I want to write a story for an anthology about Hollywood crime; and I think I can actually revise the first chapter of Chlorine and use it for this–not that I won’t use it for Chlorine, either; I am a writer so I can do whatever I want with my words whenever I want, can’t I?

And I am really leaning into turning that unfinished Paige manuscript from all those years ago into a Scotty book, and it will be lovely killing off (a fictionalized) Ann Coulter. It’s funny when I think about how politicized I became after the stolen election of 2000 (you want to deny the 2020 results, well, I can deny the 2000 one as well. I will never believe Bush won that election; the Supreme Court interfered and disenfranchised God only knows how many Floridians, and look where that horrible decision got us); I started my political reeducation in the 1990’s. I’d been brought up to be a conservative Republican, but I also stopped hating myself when I walked away from that “value” system. But the Reagan/Republican/Evangelical response to HIV/AIDS in the 1980’s showed me how meaningless and empty those values were, and contraindicated by my religious upbringing. Jesus did not come as a destroyer, He came as a peacemaker with a message of God’s love and forgiveness. The entire concept that He would return to oversee the end of the world and the final battle between good and evil is some pagan-style nonsense. In the 1990s, as my parents got sucked into Fox News (it really was the perfect news station for them), I began questioning everything. I couldn’t vote Republican because they think I’m a second-class citizen (if even that high), and were perfectly content to treat me that way with no discount on my taxes. But I’d also been raised to believe that Democrats were evil and Communist and America-haters–but when I started delving more into it, and actually following the news and reading books (on both sides), I began to see something strange. Democrats, and books by and about them, were generally about helping people and policies to make people’s lives better; Republicans seemed to only be interested in power, consolidating that power, and gaming the Democrats. The 2000 election was a slap in the face–and I was furious that Democrats rolled over so easily (see how Republicans tried to subvert an election loss in 2020? I am also not convinced 2016 was legitimate, either; two can play that game). I don’t bother to trying to understand both sides anymore; the explosion of idiocy, lunacy, and racism that Obama’s election in 2008 unleased was probably one of the most disgusting things I’ve had the misfortune to bear witness to in my lifetime. I don’t need to find common ground with people who want to strip me of my rights as an American–that my books shouldn’t be published, call me a groomer and a pedophile. Those people want me dead, and no one should ever have to explain to other humans why they are deserving of the same treatment as everyone else. Sorry, they are and always have been my enemy, have spent most of my life trying to destroy me, and won’t be happy until the world is free of the scourge of queer people.

They want me gone? I want THEM gone–because I also don’t see them making life anything but miserable for people who are not like them, whether it’s sexuality or gender identity or the amount of melanin in their skin.

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.

Guitar Boogie Shuffle

Good morning, Tuesday, and back to the office today. I am very glad that I took yesterday off, as I was completely exhausted. Once I finished my blog yesterday morning, I started trying to get caught up on everything that had slid over the weekend (dishes, laundry, etc.) but ran out of steam around eleven and was so tired I ached. So, no errands, no gym, no writing, not much of anything was truly done yesterday, but I was so tired I was fine with it. I am still fine with it this morning, frankly. I slept deeply and well last night, and of course, was very relaxed and comfortable this morning and didn’t want the night to end. But I am awake, my brain is coming alive and my coffee is tasting pretty good this morning. I am not sure what my day at the office is going to look like yet but I’ll let it be a surprise. I will have to pick up the mail today after work, but that’s fine.

I’ll probably snap back to normalcy tomorrow morning. I also have a lot of email that has accumulated since Friday to take care of, too. Heavy sigh.

But I still feel a little charged from the weekend, even if my own batteries are running low a bit. My legs and back don’t ache, for one thing, and my mind feels a bit less foggy than it did yesterday. Poor Paul got home yesterday afternoon and collapsed on the couch, from which he’s only moved to go to the bathroom or get something to eat or drink, so I hope he gets some seriously good rest today. (We watched the world skating championships and the SEC gymnastics championships before I went to bed.) I just didn’t have the energy to write yesterday, which was okay. I know I have a lot to do in order to get caught up in any way, but any work I would have done yesterday would have been terrible.

I did come up with some ideas for short stories over the weekend–not exactly what I want or need at the moment, but hey. I’ve been wanting to do more “Sherlock in 1916 New Orleans stories”; perhaps even a collection, and so it was kind of cool to come up with titles over the weekend (there’s a Sherlock novella I want to write, too, which would make the collection even more fun). I don’t need more ideas any more than I need a deep gaping hole in my skull, but the Sherlock thing is one I already had so I am not counting it as new but rather filling in the blanks for something already started.

But I am excited to roll up my sleeves and dive into the book again. The weekend was the kind of lovely recharge I need every now and then; which is what you can get from going to these types of events as a writer. Being around people who appreciate literature and writing and reading is a dream for me, and I love these occasional reminders that I am a part of the writing/publishing community–it’s very easy to feel removed from it when you don’t live near your writer friends and are only around them for brief spurts of times at conferences. There’s never enough time to talk to everyone, to catch up with everyone that I want to, as well as meet new people whose work you’ve yet to discover, and how wonderful it is to see the starry-eyed authors-to-be when they come to something like S&S for the first time. I saw several of those, and it’s also lovely that the short story and poetry anthologies are, in some cases, the writer’s first publication…and their reading at the festival is their first time doing so. I was very impressed by the poetry I heard Saturday night, particularly after talking to Steven Reigns about poetry on Friday night. I think I’ll start with T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land.

And so now it is time to officially return to the spice mines. I doubt I’ll be back later, but then again, one never knows. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader!

Red River Rock

Monday morning after Saints and Sinners and I am exhausted. (I took today off, thank God.) It was such a lovely weekend–as it always is–but I wasn’t at 100% yet, and it definitely took its toll on me. I walked home quite a lot–every night since Thursday except for Friday night, when I was so damned tired I took a Lyft home. I also walked down to the Quarter yesterday, walked to and from the BK House in the lower Quarter from the hotel on Friday night (hence the exhaustion that night). But I am very pleased to report that I was able to do a reading and moderate a panel with no stage fright or high anxiety, which was so fucking lovely I kind of wish that I’d been on the proper medications for a lot longer, because I was able to thoroughly enjoy myself instead of having an adrenal spike and the panic-sweat and so forth–and now I understand how other people experience panels and readings. It was a wonderful experience.

But I am so exhausted this morning! My legs are ridiculously tired, and my lower back and shoulders are a bit sore this morning. I’m glad I did all that walking, tiring as it was, because I need to start working on getting back into shape now that I am done with the physical therapy. I should go to the gym today, actually, and perhaps will later on in the day. Paul will come home from the hotel today, but will most likely sleep most of the day away and he’s entitled, poor thing. He was so exhausted yesterday! But it was a marvelous weekend and I know he enjoyed himself a lot, despite working 18 hours a day. There were a lot of new faces this year–young aspiring writers–and they were so excited and thrilled to be a part of the weekend. That’s always been a concern of Paul’s–how to draw in and attract new panelists and readers, especially younger people–but somehow they all seemed to find US this year, which was lovely. I did some things this weekend I generally don’t do–went to the anthology launch, came to the closing in time to hear all the poets read. They were all amazing, and that, along with a conversation with noted poet Steven Reigns on Friday night, actually sparked an interest in poetry, and I’ve decided that one is never too old to appreciate a new to them literary interest–so I am going to start reading poetry and learn to appreciate it, and maybe even try writing it at some point. I’ve always found poets make terrific fiction writers (Margot Douaihy is the latest–and one of the greatest–examples of this), and so maybe this could be a way to improving my own writing.

One never knows.

But as I sit here this morning swilling coffee and feeling my aching body slowly coming back to life, I am also a little bit sad that it’s all over. S&S is always so good for my soul, for my creativity, and my inspiration. It was the perfect way to end a week where I finally snapped out of the 2023 malaise and got back into both reading and writing, which has been wonderful. I should also make groceries today, but I am feeling so tired I am thinking it may not be the best idea, since I have to go back to the office tomorrow morning and am already exhausted. I should probably just chill around here, order a pizza for dinner, and do some chores and writing while I let my body rest and relax.

I suppose this is the time to announce that I am going to be the guest judge for the S&S short fiction contest next year, which should be interesting. I spend so much time reading crime fiction that I don’t really read outside my genre as much as I should to get a more rounded experience, and this is a good opportunity for me. It’s been a very long time since I’ve read outside the genre, and as much as I need to get caught up on my crime fiction reading, I also should not just read crime fiction, either; I’ve always believed that writers should read across all genres and forms of fiction as a method of keeping your own work fresh and not derivative, which is always a danger when you write within the confines of a genre–I just haven’t been very good with it to begin with myself for a number of years now. Maybe this year.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day–actually right now, i am going to finish some chores and then go to the easy chair with the book I am reading now, and hopefully get some rest and relaxation. Have a great Monday, I may be back later, and I’m looking forward to getting some writing done today.

There Goes My Baby

Work at home Friday, my last PT appointment, and the opening reception of Saints and Sinners is tonight. Woo-hoo! I also revised and edited and rewrote chapter two of the book, and started writing a new short story and did some more research on that elusive book I hope to write in the second half of the year if I stay motivated and on track.

I had dinner with friends last night after work, too. We ate at Besame, on South Rampart on the uptown side of Canal. It’s a fusion place, I think Peruvian? I had fish (Mahi-Mahi, pan seared) and grits. The fish was in this amazing green chile sauce that was insanely delicious, and the grits were a variation I’d never had before, but also were quite delicious. It really is amazing how good the food in New Orleans is, which I always forget–like I always forget how stunningly beautiful it is here, and how lucky I am to have gotten to live here for a third of my life, almost half, really; I was thirty-four when we moved here and I’ll be sixty-three this year. I also woke up to a fabulous thunderstorm, and I also have PT this morning–my very last session. I’ll miss the people at PhysioFit; it really was a terrific experience and they are all so friendly, helpful, and nice. It could have been so much worse…

It’s so lovely being creative again–I really was getting worried that it was gone for good. This was one of the longest fallow periods I’ve had since after Hurricane Katrina, really, and I think I will always be worried about the creativity drying up at some point; but it has always come back before so I should probably not worry about it. I’m also not used to having long fallow periods; usually it will only last about a month and then I just kick myself in the ass and get into gear again. I am hoping to get a lot of writing caught up on this weekend. I’ll be dipping in and out of S&S all weekend; not really needing to be down there until the afternoons, so I have my mornings to write before heading to the Quarter, and I am actually excited about that. I’ve also taken Monday off, to recover from the weekend and write some more.

Oh! The most important thing about last night was the night was clear after dinner. I’d taken a Lyft to the restaurant because it was raining, and I was going to take one home, too–but I decided to walk, and when I got tired or ran out of steam, would summon a driver then. Constant Reader, not only did I never run out of steam or get tired, I am not exhausted this morning, either–so I really think I may have snapped back into normalcy (for me) again. I did sleep super well after getting that writing finished (I started before leaving for dinner), and today after PT and work-at-home duties, I’m hoping to get some writing done before I head down for the opening reception at the BK (Beauregard-Keyes) House, which is beautiful; I always like going to events there. It’s across the street from the Ursulines Convent, and there’s a lovely view of it from the front porch of the BK House.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up for PT and head on out. Have a lovely Friday and–I may be back later. You never know.

16 Candles

Paul moved into the Monteleone yesterday for the weekend, so I find myself home alone with Sparky, who either feels needy when there’s only one of us here, or gives me a lot more attention when Paul’s not home to make me feel less lonely. I’ll be spending most of my weekend down there myself–although I am hoping to get some writing done every morning before I head down there for the panels and parties and things. A boy can dream, at any rate. Sparky was pretty needy after I got home from work, and spent most of the night either sleeping in my lap, following me around, or riding on my shoulders.

I did spend some time going down an Internet research rabbit-hole for the new book I am looking forward to writing later this year, The Summer of Lost Boys. I found a Facebook page for the suburb we lived in that is going to be the basis for the story (the same suburb the main character of Lake Thirteen was from), and spent some time between clients going down memory lane and remembering people, places and things I’d forgotten in the ensuing fifty years or so since we lived there. (FIFTY YEARS???) Most of the members of the group are people I didn’t know or don’t remember, but there were certainly some familiar names there–including some of my bullies. Charming, but glad to see they don’t look so great now. It was a strange suburb, really. When we moved out there it really wasn’t much of a town or anything; it was mostly subdivisions that were going up very rapidly. The town (or village; it’s still called The Village of Bolingbrook) started developing more after we moved out there…the end of the street we lived on was a field about a block away from our hose…within a few years, the Ivanhoe subdivision went up in that field. We got our own high school in 1974; I was going to be in the first graduating class for BHS that had gone to BHS all four years; the older grades has spent some years attending Romeoville High in the next town over. I am going to try to immerse myself in the period–culturally, politically, and so forth–which should make the book more interesting, or at least to people my age. I’m kind of excited about it, to tell you the truth. (And yes, some of my earliest post-pubescent crushes are also there. Also didn’t age well, but hey, we’re all in our sixties now.)

I’ve also picked out the other stories I want to use to fill out my next short story collection. Those two stories need a bit of work, but I hope I can get this whole thing finished relatively soon, so I can move on to the novellas I want to finish, the two books already in progress, and then this new one I want to do. See? I’m feeling ambitious and driven again, which is lovely. I wrote some more last night, and it was good work; revising the second chapter and pulling the story and everything together, and I’ve found the voice again, which is so crucial and was part of the problem I was having before.

I also spent some more time with Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor’s Version) last night and realized…I’ve liked every song thus far, and I am well into the second hour of the film. I will undoubtedly write about it once I’ve finished watching, but it’s an excellent way to hear her music–some of it for the first time–and think, I really need to listen to her albums in the car and this is why she’s the biggest star in the world right now. It’s also a pretty amazing show; the girl knows how to please an audience and make them happy.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back probably at some point later today.

I’m Gonna Get Married

Wednesday middle of the week blog, in which it is a miserable 48 degrees this morning in New Orleans, with a forecast high of a mere 67. Oh, well, I’ve survived worse, have I not? Indeed I have.

Yesterday turned out to be a good day. I finished the first draft of the short story (huzzah!) and started editing the first chapter of the book, primarily to get me back into the voice and swing of the story, and I feel like it’s already better than it was. It also felt delightful to be writing again, and the words were simply flowing out of me, which also was lovely. Needless to say, I was in a very good mood when I saved the files and closed Word. Hopefully tonight I’ll be able to get some more work done, and yes, I slept extremely well last night, too. I just felt better than I have about everything in a very long time.

I always forget how much I love to write, you know? I love writing and creating; which are my favorite things in the world to do. Part of the reason I was in the throes of another long-lasting malaise was because I wasn’t writing, which always affects my moods and how i feel about everything in my life and the world in general. The short story needs work, of course, it’s just a first draft, but once I finished it, I realized how to make the story stronger and make more sense to the reader. Huzzah for writing again! I also have my last supervised PT session this Friday morning, and then I am to do it all on my own. I have a lot of questions about that I will get cleared up at this last session. And once the Festivals are over, we’ll be back on our normal, most of the year schedule. I feel good still this morning–well rested, still pleased with the work I got done yesterday and very much looking forward to getting even more done today. The friend I had drinks with Monday night reminded me that I love to write, and that everything else is just a side effect. I’ve had some disappointments lately for sure–but that’s part of the up-and-down cyclical nature of the business side of things. Not everything is going to be as successful as you’d like, and it doesn’t mean I am a terrible writer or the book wasn’t good but rather that not enough people knew about the book to consider buying it. I’ve always been terrible about the business side of being an author; I need to make more of an effort in the future and learn how to do all the things I generally don’t like to do–but I also need to get over that and stop feeling like a carnival barker selling snake oil when I am doing it.

I am good at writing. And if I were able to devote all of my energy and focus into a book, that would be different.

I think my next read is going to be either a cozy or a Barbara Michaels reread. I’ve not reread some of my favorites of hers in years (I always end up going back to Ammie Come Home and Be Buried in the Rain but there are others I love almost as much, like The Dark on the Other Side, Witch, Prince of Darkness, and House of Many Shadows). I do want to write another Gothic at some point soon–I love Gothics–and there’s no better writer than Michaels to help get me into the mood and find the voice. There’s a New Orleans ghost story I want to write, and there’s at least one more Alabama book I want to write as well. I was thinking about reading She Who Was No More, the book Diabolique was based on, which is a fantastic and grim story. (I originally saw Diabolique in its American television movie remake, Reflections of Murder, which Sam Waterston, Joan Hackett, and Tuesday Weld.)

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

Lipstick on Your Collar

Tuesday morning and the temperature dropped over night, so I had to turn on the heat once I got up. I was exhausted yesterday when i got home from having a drink with a friend, and was nodding off in my easy chair by eight o’clock, finally deciding to just go ahead and go to bed early. Maybe it was the alcohol? But I slept deeply and well, and because of the cold (and a cuddling purring kitten) I really didn’t want to get out of the bed. But I was wide awake and the day wouldn’t be denied, so I went ahead and got up to feed Sparky, threw on my sweats, and started getting the day going.

The short story is now about four thousand words, and nearing it’s completed first draft. I am hoping to get it finished tonight once and for all, so I can get back to writing the book without any distractions. I am feeling more determined than I have in a long time, and while I am sure my mind will still wander and I’ll still get sidetracked easily, but this morning? I feel like I’m a writer again, which is odd but nice. Maybe the feeling will fade eventually as the day gets underway, but it’s nice to feel like this again. It was probably talking about writing last night with my friend? Which is funny, because talking about writing and publishing and so forth last night made me feel like an outsider…because I’ve not felt part of that world in a very long time. Given the tumultuous upsets of last year, it’s not really surprising. I was coping with a lot last year and my focus went away from not only writing but reading as well. I am still reading at a much slower pace than I used to, and I don’t write as fast as I used to either–but I also flipped out of the right mindset dealing with everything from last year, and I’m still dealing with some of it even now, despite it getting a bit easier every day. I also realize this morning that despite my intent to be kinder to myself, I slipped into that incorrect mindset and have been beating myself up over not reading or writing faster, and feeling shame about it, which is insane. I had a major surgery in November, and the recovery after; of course that’s going to affect my creativity and my ability to focus.

I am actually really grateful that I changed medications to something that actually handles the problem rather than the symptoms, otherwise the post-surgery months would have been horrible, much worse than it was. Almost my entire life my focus has been on books–either reading or writing them–and I either wanted to be a writer, or was one; my identity has always involved writing in some form or another. Not being able to focus enough to write since having a cadaver tendon sewn into my arm (it sounds so much worse when it’s put that way, doesn’t it? It also sounds like something out of those horror comics I used to read when I was a kid, where it would have inevitably turned out to be from a serial killer and it’s possessed or something) would have been peak anxiety for me, but fortunately while I still had those thoughts (who am I if I can’t write anymore?), I was properly medicated so it didn’t turn into an anxiety spiral. I am also very impatient, and always want to be done with the healing/recovery as quickly as I can. I am healing physically much faster than anyone could have anticipated (had another new PT on Friday and she was constantly commenting in shock and awe at “how advanced I was”) but the mental recovery has clearly not been as fast, which then becomes a concern, and then so on and on and on.

I really don’t miss the spirals at all.

And I think I’ve decided that my next new novel (the next one after I finish everything on hand that isn’t) is going to be The Summer of Lost Boys. I can’t stop thinking about it, even though I need to put it aside and focus on everything else before I get to it–but I may start the prologue because that’s what I can’t get out of my head. And yes, this morning I am starting to feel excited about writing again…maybe all it took was a martini with another writer.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, I may or may not be here again later–one never truly knows, does on?

A Teenager in Love

Monday morning and back to the office blog. I did write some yesterday–not nearly enough–and I did get some things done this weekend. I bought blinds for the breakfast nook, but I think they are too small; I may have to exchange them for another, larger set. Which is okay; I can do it after work one night as the Lowe’s is just up Elysian Fields. Tonight after work I have to go to the gym to do PT, and then I’m coming home to do some more writing and cleaning. Paul’s moving into the Monteleone on Wednesday, which means I’ll be here alone with the Sparkster, and also means Sparky will be very needy. He loves the cat treats I got him this weekend, no surprise there, and so I will continue to dole them out for good behavior. I feel rested this morning, which is different from most usual Monday mornings, but I think that has to do with making myself get up early Sunday morning and not sleeping late again the way I did Saturday morning.

Still, that felt amazing.

I feel pretty good this morning, too. The temperature dropped again over night, so there is a bit of a chill in the air this morning. I need to actually look at the program for S&S this weekend so I can put the stuff I am doing on my calendar and can start planning for the weekend. It’ll be weird being home alone for the long weekend (Wednesday thru Monday), but I’ve been a Festival widow since January anyway, so it probably won’t even be noticeable. I’ve also taken Monday off, as it’s always brutal getting up at six in the morning after the Festivals have concluded. It was a little odd this morning, though; Sparky usually comes and starts smacking me in the face with his paw just before the alarm goes off, and continues to do so while purring and cuddling until I get up. He didn’t come out from under the bed until I actually got out of bed, and just followed me downstairs instead of insisting on food immediately. His bowl was completely empty this morning, too.

I did write about a thousand new words on the short story yesterday, but my mind kept wandering and I got up to do something and just never went back. I also edited the 2000 words or so I had already done, so I think it was probably more new words than merely a thousand. It still feels a little rusty for me when I’m writing, but the best way to get past that is to keep writing until it starts to feel natural again and my mind stops wandering when I am writing. That’s the weirdest part. Usually when I write I shut out everything and am laser-focused, that’s not the case anymore and that’s fine.

My mind is still bouncing all over the place, too. It’s trying to spike my anxiety, too, but I just take some deep breaths and calm down, which is a lot easier to do with the new medications.

I did finish reading The Cook by Harry Kressing, which was an interesting and short read. It was a black comedy of sorts, more of a Kafka-esque fable than anything else, but in all honesty I enjoyed the movie version (Something for Everyone) a lot more than I did the book; in the book Conrad seduces everyone with his incredible food and force of will; in the movie, he’s played by a stunningly beautiful young Michael York who actually sexually seduces his prey until he gets what he wants. I will do a more in-depth review of the book at some point, but it does play into my thoughts that Saltburn owes more to that movie than it does The Talented Mr. Ripley or Brideshead Revisited.

We also finished watching season two of The Tourist, which was twisty and clever and fun and we really enjoyed it and are really looking forward to the third season–the second ended with a terrific cliffhanger twist that definitely will make for a fascinating and exciting third season. Plus, Jamie Dornan and Danielle Macdonald have some amazing chemistry together.

I also watched some documentaries last night about Jayne Mansfield, who I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I’m not entirely sure what triggered me to thinking about her again. I first read about her in Earl Wilson’s The Show Business Nobody Knows when I was a teenager, and from there went on to read May Mann’s biography of her, Jayne Mansfield. She was very interesting to me, and was thrilled when her daughter began her career as an actress. I remember thinking Mariska Hargitay? She must be Jayne Mansfield’s daughter because what are the odds of there being two Mariska Hargitays? and watched her for years on Law and Order: SVU. Oh, now I do remember. I bought a copy of the Wilson off ebay because I thought it might be helpful with Chlorine, to give me an idea of what it was like to be in show business in the 1950’s, and of course, he devoted a chapter to her. I bought another bio of her off eBay recently, and she is very interesting, as she always has been to me. I’ve only seen one film of hers, Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter, which I thought was hilarious and she was fantastic in it. Benjamin Dreyer brought her up on one of the social media channels this weekend, and so I thought I’d find what I could of her on Youtube. Her story was actually perfect for someone like Jackie Collins or Jacqueline Susann to have written a huge trashy novel about, I’ve always thought. I also loved that she was actually–despite her image as a sexy dumb blonde–incredibly smart, almost genius level. And she only worked in show business for about ten years–while having four children, too, and keeping that incredible figure.

It’s funny; I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, Constant Reader, but I generally use song titles for my blog posts. About twelve years ago it was getting harder and harder to think up song titles organically, so I started using themes–Stevie Nicks songs, Pet Shop Boys songs, top 100 hits of 1977, that sort of thing. I can’t remember now which years I’ve used so I recently went back to the top 100 of 1959, I think; it’s interesting how many titles and songs have to do with teenagers; clearly, modern songwriters don’t have to write about teenage heartbreak anymore to appeal to young listeners. I also started watching Eras: The Taylor Swift Concert Movie, and I have to say I am very impressed. I can’t dedicate three and a half hours to watching it, but putting it on and listening while doing chores is terrific. Her show is amazing–I still have over an hour to watch (and am bummed she didn’t do “Red”) and I am actually looking forward to it. I also love how much right-wingers hate her.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day Constant Reader, and I may be back later, you never can be sure. I’m tricky that way!

Sorry (I Ran All The Way Home)

It’s raining.

Sparky was cuddling with me this morning in the bed as I took my time deciding whether the siren song of the comfortable bed and blankets was resistible when I heard thunder and that decided me. I do think I will take advantage of this gloom and the falling rain and the thunder to read some more of my book this morning (The Cook by Harry Kressing) before diving into an exciting day of writing and cleaning. Yesterday I ran some errands–Lowe’s and Rouse’s–before coming home and getting back into the filing and cleaning. I got us a pizza for dinner, and when Paul got home we watched two more episodes of The Tourist, which I am really loving (despite the fact there have been no gratuitous shirtless shots of Jamie Dornan, which seems a shame and a waste). Oh, and the Saints and Sinners program is available here. I am moderating a crime fiction panel with a powerhouse panel, and I am also doing a reading. I’m not sure what I will read from, but I am leaning towards my short story “Moist Money” or “The Ditch.” Guess I should start rehearsing. Or getting ready to moderate the panel. Maybe later.

“The procrastination is strong in this one.”

But once I finish this and make myself some breakfast, I am going to take my coffee into the living room and read some more for a little while before getting cleaned up and heading back into the spice mines. I feel like I can get some good work done today. Paul will probably get up later today, and we’ll probably finish watching The Tourist, which is a fine and lovely way to spend the day, methinks. I also need to finish up some filing and emptying out my inbox, and before you know it it’ll be bedtime. I had hoped to barbecue today, but if the rain doesn’t let up that’s a no-go, alas. I also bought a new grill yesterday (Lowe’s) which needs to be assembled and the old one disposed of; I also bought blinds for the window which I fear might be too small. I am debating whether I should try to put them up myself or ask Sam our handyman to do it when he works on the windows (he’s trying to unstick them so I can get fresh air into the house), The desk and the computer need to be moved before hand, of course, which is a problem…but I also have a laptop and an iPad with a keyboard, so I have no excuse for not writing when I’m in the chair, do I? And yet…

I do feel good this morning, rested and alert and awake and raring to go; we’ll see how long that lasts. It’s very gray outside, which means we’ll most likely be getting rain for most of the day. Which is okay; I can make something else with the ground sirloin in the fridge, and I am adapting, always a good sign–I used to get so unsettled by a change in plans for the day that I’d inevitably wind up doing nothing, which was not a good thing.

I’m also thinking about what I want to do for the rest of the year, and with my career for the rest of my life. It’s weird to think in those terms, isn’t it? But I am also getting to the point where I am having to start thinking in terms of well, if you die, which idea will you be most disappointed in not writing? And this is tricky, because I am always getting new ideas that sound terrific. It’s really important, at least to me, that I spend the rest of this year finishing things in progress and getting them out of my hair. I know I want to write about both Alabama and Kansas again, and probably a New Orleans ghost story I’ve been wanting to write for a very long time now. I have a book that has about 40k done on it, but will need extensive revision and at least another 40k.

And who knows? I may even bring Chanse back ONE MORE TIME–but don’t count on it.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back at some point later.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Saturday morning and I was exhausted, not rising up out of bed until well past eight. Sparky tried to get me up (five a.m. for food; he doesn’t recognize Daylight Savings Time) several times–I did get up to feed him at six–before giving up and curling up to my side and going to sleep. I could hardly disturb him by getting up, could I? Plus I still felt very tired, exhausted, until I finally did get up. PT was particularly intense yesterday–I had a new therapist who was filling in for my regular–and she was just stunned, repeatedly, at how well I was doing and how strong I was, which was really nice. She kept commenting on it the entire time, which was a lovely thing for my ego and only encouraged me to keep pushing harder. I came home, worked, did some chores around here. and then ran a couple of errands after the work was done. I was exhausted (I think I did seven loads of laundry? It had built up and Friday is when I do the bed linens), and just collapsed into my chair. I finished watching Feud–I didn’t think last week’s was the final, if it did indeed end with him dying–and then watched LSU’s gymnastics team trounce North Carolina in their last meet of the season (SEC meet is next weekend) before watching this week’s Abbott Elementary and retiring to bed, exhausted. I have a busy day ahead of me–reading, writing, errands, other chores–and my house is also a mess, sigh. But I’m not going to allow all the things I need to get done to overwhelm me and thus guarantee none of it will get done.

And I definitely need to make groceries.

But I do feel tired–fatigued–in my muscles. The shoulders are fatigued, and so are my legs and my lower back feels a bit tight. Fortunately I bought that hand-held massage device (which can’t be used as a vibrator, get your head out of the gutter), so I think I am going to use it and that foam back roller today, maybe stretching a bit will help the leg fatigue. I also am going to get cleaned up this morning–shaving the face and head, which I don’t keep up with as much as I should, bad Gregalicious, bad Gregalicious. I need to get to work on myself more than anything else, and need to stop thinking “meh, good enough”. I think later on this year I’m going to have to make a trip to the outlet mall in Gonzalez and get some new clothes–dressier pants and shirts, at any rate–to go with the fancier shoes I have; I’ve never matched outfits to a couple of pairs of Oxfords, which makes wearing them more difficult–bothering my OCD–because the outfits have to be made to somehow match the shoes, and I don’t always succeed. I usually am bored by shopping for clothes; but now that I am thinking about experimenting with style, it actually sounds a bit more intriguing than it ever did before, frankly…and now that I am thinking about it more, that was undoubtedly triggered by my anxiety.

And now that I no longer have the anxiety anymore, maybe shopping for clothes will cease to be an ordeal for me. And I do love argylle.

It’s a very bright and sunny morning here in New Orleans, too–which reminds that I need to size the windows and order blinds, so I should also check on office supplies and maybe order for pick-up or delivery–and so I am feeling like I should be able to get things done today (or it’s the coffee kicking into gear here); we’ll see how it goes and how long my energy lasts–it should be a major grocery run today, but then again Paul won’t be home after Wednesday so…probably not? Heavy sigh. I guess I’ll NOT do a major grocery run today and then add things during the week that we need. I also bought a half-gallon of milk thinking we were out and SURPRISE! There was a half-gallon in the refrigerator already. AH, well.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. I have things that I need to get done this morning, and I also want to read a little bit before I dive into the day headfirst. May your Saturday be amazing and wonderful and cool, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again later.