Category: travel

Wagon Wheel

Looks like Wednesday Pay-the-Bills Day has rolled around again, woo-hoo! Apparently another cold front is swooping down on us from the frozen north; temperatures dipping down into the forties (!!!!) this weekend. The meteorologists are also saying we’re done with temperatures in the 80s until spring–but I am not holding my breath on that one. New Orleans weather always has a habit of making forecasters look foolish because, well, it’s New Orleans weather. It snowed earlier this year, for example.1 But I am actually enjoying this respite from the heat and humidity, and I am sleeping like a stone every night since the weather changed, which is delightful. Even the time change wasn’t as disruptive as it usually is–although last night I fell asleep in my chair around eight-ish, which used to be nine-ish. But I don’t mind. I didn’t get much done when I got home from work yesterday, because I was feeling tired, and Sparky was feeling needy. I did run some errands on the way home, getting the mail and picking up prescriptions (two more will be ready for pick-up today, I think), but once I was home, I didn’t really do a lot of anything. I was on edge a bit about yesterday’s elections, but checked the news before going to bed and saw that the Reich Wing was getting trounced everywhere–so much for MAGA’s popularity–and was even more delighted to see this morning that those results held. Three seats in Mississippi’s state house flipped Democratic, too–in Mississippi. MISSISSIPPI. Think about that for a moment…and what it implies about the midterms. I’m feeling hopeful, at least for this morning at any rate.

Darth Cheney died, and there was a massive blue wave. Who could ask for anything more? If voters are this angry with MAGA now, imagine how the midterms could go. What a lovely way for November to start, am I right?

Today is going to be a busy one at work. Our nurse is out, and it’s just me in the clinic today. Undoubtedly I will be exhausted when I get home tonight, but I also decided last night to go back and finish reading The Hunting Wives (which was interrupted by Halloween Horror Month), since I was only a chapter into the Scott Carson. I will be rejiggering my reading schedule and what is up next over the next few days. I do need to get caught up a bit on my Donna Andrews, so I can listen to one of her Christmas mysteries on the way up to Kentucky later this month for Thanksgiving. I am not dreading that drive as much as I usually do, and I suppose this is the first major test of the recovery, isn’t it? Twelve hours in a car? But the key is to take my time and not get stressed about anything, and I may even try going a different way–through Nashville and up the Cumberland Parkway. Anything to avoid Chatta-fucking-nooga. I’ll drive home the old way, most likely, but it’s not a bad thing to shake things up a little bit, is it?

I did watch some more Appalachian lore videos last night, which are always fun and inspiring. I started thinking about the next Scotty last night–trying to land on a title and a time of the year, leaning towards Halloween Party Hijinks–which is also kind of fun. I have no idea what the plot of that would be, but I always have to have the title and the time of the year first. Does it make any sense? Not in the least, but I am extremely different from every other writer out there; not better nor worse, just different when it comes to writing and the writing process. I want to work some more on my novella tonight, too. So far, tomorrow looks like a very easy day in the clinic, despite again not having a nurse and working the schedule entirely on my own, which will wear me out for sure.

Oh, and People named Jonathan Bailey as the first openly gay Sexiest Man Alive. Yesterday was a very good day, wasn’t it? To be fair, he definitely is one of the sexiest men alive, and it’s not something that I ever pay that much attention to–the last one I remember was the joke selection of Blake Shelton (bitch, please) and that was nearly ten years ago–but this is landmark, and also a bitch-slap to the mouth-breathing haters. I’m actually surprised President Stillson hasn’t whined about never being picked for this…

And on that note, I should pay some bills before I head into the office.

Have a lovely mid-week Wednesday, and I will be back tomorrow morning for sure, for sure.

  1. The snow days, and the novelty of snow, was fun…but not something I want to experience all the time. ↩︎

The Number of the Beast

Last day in the office for the week Thursday, and I am dragging a little this morning. My legs are a bit fatigued, but my brain is alert and the coffee is hitting, so…so far so good? I’m working in the clinic by myself again today, and I am not sure how busy we’re going to be. I think it was all afternoon appointments and none this morning? I don’t remember, but I think that’s right, unless something changed overnight. I slept well again last night–it’s been getting cold at nights here lately, which is absolutely lovely. Next week the temperatures are going to drop even more, and of course we have to keep an eye on Melissa out there in the western Caribbean. I have to get up early again tomorrow to take the car in for a new battery, two new tires, and some other minor maintenance–which will be horribly expensive but better that than having the battery die on me (it’s lasted five years, whereas the original one only lasted four) or having a tire explode while I’m driving. (These are the last two original tires that came with the car, I think, which is a pretty good track record. I also can’t believe how old the car is now, either. Still don’t have fifty thousand miles on it yet! Probably wouldn’t even have thirty if not for all the trips to Alabama and Kentucky.) My injectable medication is also arriving today, so I’ll have to go uptown to get the mail on my way home. And then I get to go home and have my Thursday night bonding session with Sparky; Paul has to go to some important thing tonight so we will be home alone, and maybe I might watch Scream 2 or A Nightmare on Elm Street. I think we are going to Costco and running some other errands tomorrow after I finish my work-at-home duties. We’re forecast to have thunderstorms all day Sunday, too, which will make staying home under a blanket in my easy chair reading all the more cozy and comfortable.

The apartment needs work, too. There are dishes to be washed and loaded into the dishwasher, and there’s crap scattered everywhere around the entire downstairs. I’ve not been terribly motivated when I’ve gotten home from work. Last night I did a big grocery run at the Carrollton Rouse’s on my way home; it was nice getting that out of the way. I know I’ll have to run to make groceries on Saturday morning for some things I am going to make this weekend, and perhaps pick up the mail, but other than that I plan on not going outside much other than to start taking walks. I finally got wired earbuds for my new phone, so I can listen to books while I am taking my walks. This is my plan to start getting back into shape, slowly and carefully and not trying to rush anything.

I did watch The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City last night, and I must say I never thought I’d see an argument about farts between women on a reality show. Very interesting.

I also need to update my to-do list and pay some more bills. In fact, I don’t even remember what is even ON the to-do list, but…I’ve noticed that I am better about NOT forgetting things. When I made groceries last night, for example, Paul asked me to get him crackers (saltines). I forgot because I couldn’t find my list, but once I got back to the car and put everything in the trunk, I remembered! I ran back in, grabbed a box, and checked out at the service desk. I was very pleased with this, for the record. Yesterday I also remembered to do some things at work I’d been asked to do and hadn’t written down, so I am getting better with my memory, too. Maybe that’s also part of the recovery process? I certainly hope that is the case.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow; probably not until I get back from the dealership.

Werewolves of London

Tuesday morning, and we have survived to another day, haven’t we? And of course, my daily posts usually starting with some kind of commentary that boils down to “proof of life” at its most basic level is why people get concerned when I am not here every morning, isn’t it? The more you know…or more like, the more you think about something…which is certainly always the case with me.

Well, I slept really well last night and I feel pretty good thus far this morning. We weren’t terribly busy at the clinic yesterday (today, on the other hand, is a different story), and I ran errands on my way home from work. I’ll probably stop to make groceries on the way home (maybe), and this Friday I am taking the car in for some necessary maintenance (need to replace two tires, the air filter, and some other things need to be done). Tomorrow is pay-the-bills day, and maybe I can get everything done that I need to get done before the weekend so I can just stay home and read/write/clean. Yay! I’d like to get some writing done this week; I woke up to an email from my editor about Hurricane Season Hustle, and we need to schedule a call to discuss what remains to be done. Huzzah!

I also ordered the next dose of my injection medication yesterday from the specialty pharmacy, because I get to dose myself again in November. Look at me, staying on top of things and not blowing them off until the last possible minute. But I can also tell that it’s coming up, because I am having some slight stomach issues–but nothing serious; it’s what reminded me to go ahead and order it. Not to worry, Constant Reader–it’s the same thing I noticed in the last few weeks before I had my first injection last month. I don’t mind having a physical reminder, to be honest. I’ve become so forgetful lately that I worry about forgetting to order it–not as bad as I would have before anxiety medication, I need to point out–but am also hopeful those issues won’t be so bad once I am fully recovered physically from being sick this past spring. Now that I have sort of recovered from the trip, I am starting to feel more lively and alive this week, which is terrific. Alas, I do have to drive to Kentucky for Thanksgiving, which will be a TEST.

I am already dreading that drive, but will be listening to a Donna Andrews audiobook, which is really the best way to travel on long trips in the car. I cannot reiterate too much how delightful it is to listen to books in the car; I wish I had figured that out years earlier. Another one of those better late than never things, isn’t it?

We caught up a bit on Alien: Earth, which is a very interesting addition to the Alien IP. It looks like its going to finally get into what the xenomorphs are, where they came from, and what they want. I don’t remember a lot of the movies other than the first two (classics); I may have even not seen some of them and the prequels never really made a lot of sense to me. But we’re enjoying the show, and October seems like the right month to be watching it.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a lovely little Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow on Pay the Bills Wednesday!

I have such a crush on adorable Freddie Stroma!

Unholy

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. Huzzah, I think. I felt good yesterday, and read a lot further into Hokuloa Road, which I am also really enjoying (more on that later). It was, overall, a nice and relaxed day here in the Lost Apartment. Sparky was good cuddle-boy all day, too, for the most part. He still does his best to get me up at six every morning, but much more intensely when he hears the alarm go off. He knows that means I have to get up, and so he is more persistent on those mornings (like this morning). But I feel rested and good, which is always a better way of starting the week rather than feeling tired, which is how last week developed, and that tired feeling lasted through the week and most of the weekend.

I did some chores yesterday and made progress on getting everything organized and filed away, around reading the book. I also made some progress on other things, too, which was very cool. It was nice having a productive weekend for a change, other than one where I am trying to get rested and nothing much gets done. The LSU loss Saturday morning also kind of killed my interest in watching games on Saturday, which helped me get things done. They play at night this Saturday, hosting undefeated Texas A&M, who have never won in Baton Rouge since joining the SEC–they beat Alabama before they beat LSU, in fact–but they are pretty good this year and LSU is not, so…probably be a long night this Saturday.

I also need to revise and update my to-do list this morning at some point. I’m not sure how busy we will be in the clinic today, but when I checked Thursday it wasn’t bad–that obviously could have changed between then and now. We shall see.

It was both weird and nice to spend so much time reading yesterday. I always forget how much I love reading (I have noted, before, many times, how weird it is that I have to force myself to do things that I love), until I really get caught up in a book. I was hoping it would rain yesterday, but alas–it was not to be. That would have been lovely–raining outside, snuggled under a blanket in my easy chair with Sparky and a cup of coffee, all snug while I read. It just doesn’t get better than that, you know? I am planning on reading some more tonight when I get home from the office before doing some chores–Sparky loves to sleep in my lap once I get home for the day–and if I can do that every night, I can make some progress on this out-of-control TBR pile.

As I said, I am enjoying Hokuloa Road. It’s a slow burn, which I like, slowly picking up speed as you go. It’s set on a made-up island in the Hawaiian Island chain (best I can tell; apologies if I am incorrect and the unnamed island actually does exist), which is fun. I love Hawaii, even if I haven’t been back there in thirty years. It was my parents’ absolute favorite place to go in the world; so every year I worked at the airline we’d go. I fell in love with Hawaii myself more every time we went, and the last time we went I broke away and did gay things; went to the gay bars, went to the gay beach every day, and even got laid a couple of times while I was there. It was a lot of fun, and I had always wanted to write about Hawaii–but only did once, in an erotic short story and like Elizabeth Hand, I never named the setting as a Hawaiian beach. (The story was called “The Sea Where It’s Shallow”–one of my all-time favorite titles–and I don’t remember where it was published originally, but I do know it’s in my collection Promises in Every Star.) I worry about exoticizing Hawaii and it’s native people, as a haole. Maybe I should revisit it? I do know that some novels I’ve read set in Hawaii were very much that…

I also started writing a short story this weekend, with the working title “Even Katydids Dream,” and yes, that’s a very obvious Shirley Jackson reference. It was inspired by that call for submissions for one (!) lucky writer to get into that Stephen King The Shining appreciation anthology–and the furor that followed the announcement. I really don’t like when authors call out anthology editors for opportunities they don’t think are “fair.” Fairness has nothing to do with it, for the record, and it’s their anthology; they can make the rules whatever they want them to be. I was criticized by people for the last open call I did for an anthology because they didn’t like my rules–and I replied to every whining email “don’t submit.” (I also tracked them, so I could be certain not to accept a story from someone who established from the very fucking beginning they would be difficult to work with and entitled–and I almost always back the writers, so for me to be critical of writers…yeah.) Nothing is fair in publishing, so get used to it unless you want to be angry all the time.

I’d rather channel that energy into writing, frankly.

The more I thought about the pompous and pretentious complaints I saw over the course of a few days last week, the more I started thinking about writing something in that universe. But what? And then the idea came to me, followed by the title, so I started writing it. I probably won’t submit it to the call–one of the submission rules (the timing) is something I’m not sure I would be able to handle. They are only considering the first five hundred stories, so when the window opens you have to have everything ready to go so you can hit send when the minute turns–and I know myself too well to think I’ll remember to get up early on that day. But I like the story, and I can always strip all that Overlook Hotel stuff out of it and use it somewhere else if I want to. I may not ever finish it. Who knows?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.

Elizabeth Taylor

Did you miss me this morning? I had to take my car in to get it serviced (and was informed of things I’m going to need to get done soon), and then I came home to pack and run some errands. That’s all done now, and I am waiting for a podcast I am appearing on to promote Crime Ink: Iconic with Robyn Gigl, John Copenhaver and Marco Carocari on Alan Warren’s “House of Mystery” show, which should be fun and interesting. I don’t know how long that will take, but afterwards I am loading the car and driving north. I think I remembered to pack everything I need and if I forget anything, well, there are stores and things up there. I don’t have any writing to take with me on this trip, which is very weird–I am always writing something, it seems like–but I’m still decompressing from turning the book in (it needs work, I already know that) and so I am just going to let my mind wander for a while and scribble down ideas and start thinking about things I want to write and do. I am also thinking I probably won’t finish this before I leave, as I am loading the car the minute I sign out of the podcast.

Yesterday was an easy day of literally doing nothing other than picking up the mail and a prescription. I did nothing other than read The Haunting of Hill House and mostly think about how brilliant it is before going down some wormholes on Youtube–reviews of Hill House, some news, and some history documentaries about the Batman comics and their evolution over the years as well as the character changes. I did love comic books when I was a kid through being a teenager, and have occasionally dipped back into that world periodically as an adult (I really wish DC would let me write Nightwing, or revive Will Payton as Starman–or as another hero), so I find it interesting to learn about their history, and how the characters developed–as well as what outside influences impacted the characters. I’m not a comics nerd, but I do appreciate the art form and the creators, and am never averse to learning more about things I enjoy.

Well, it is now Friday afternoon and I am in Alabama, resting. Obviously I didn’t finish this entry before I departed, and am only now getting around to it; and it may not even be finished this time, either, LOL. I drove up here after recording the Housse of Mystery podcast, and that is a very helpfully placed link to the recording, which consists of Al Warren interviewing editor/contributor John Copenhaver, Robyn Gigl, and Marco Carocari. And me, of course. This was about the Crime Ink: Iconic anthology John edited and is freshly available at all your favorites places you select your reading choices. I’ve not had time to read it yet–that whole finishing-the-book thing–but am looking forward to digging into it sooner rather than later. I got here very late (for me)–nearly ten, my bedtime, and yes, I was very tired. As I drove through the dark night of rural Alabama, I kept getting a bit spooked and having deja vu and thinking, when have I ever driven through rural Alabama at night by myself before, which gradually morphed into I should memorize how it looks and feels to do this so I can write about it so I started describing the pines and the hollowed out hillsides the road cut through and when I pulled up to a four-way stop, I started laughing myself because I finally remembered; that was a passage in Bury Me in Shadows, and one of the creepier parts of the whole book!

Glad to confirm that I got that right.

Anyway, I was exhausted when I finally got here, and got up early yesterday to ride with Dad down to south Alabama–a lengthy round trip–to see family and was again exhausted last night–so exhausted I sat down here at the desk to try to check my email and I fell asleep! I woke up at two in the morning with my face down on the desk resting on my folded arms. I’m still tired today, so Dad is visiting friends while I rest here before we go to his old high school’s Homecoming Game–which is going to be strange for me, obviously. Dad and Mom used to come down for reunions fairly regularly until she started getting too sick, so he’s been back for games before. But for me, it’s a new experience. I’ve not been to a high school football game since my youngest nephew graduated high school, which I think was before Hurricane Katrina, and I’ve certainly not been to a rural high school game since I graduated high school myself. So, yes, I need to pay attention and notice things, because a project (one of many) I hope to finish over the next year or so opens at a high school football game. (I’ve also been thinking about some small town y/a horror/mystery novels lately, and thinking about writing another soon.) It doesn’t hurt that I’ve been thinking about slasher movies lately (Halloween Horror Month, remember?) and listening to Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives! in the car (which I am really enjoying) has also put me in mind of writing a slasher novel. I am not working on anything until everything is over with the new one–edits, copy-edits, and proofing–but it never hurts to spend some time in my head thinking about stories and characters and subtexts and intertwining subplots and stories.

I also read about half of Chris Grabenstein’s The Hanging Hill in the car yesterday. It’s a middle grade novel, but engaging and a bit funny, too. It’s easy to see why he’s so popular with kids.

I think I am going to go lie down for a bit. I’ll be back later, I am sure.

Well, I never came back to finish this, did I? Friday night’s Homecoming game ended well for the home team (they won 64-6), and then Saturday Dad and I watched football games. I was delighted LSU won, but wasn’t impressed by how they played. We watched the Alabama game with Missouri first, went to eat during the afternoon games with my uncle, and got back in time for the night games (we had the Auburn-Georgia game on the television while I had the LSU game on my new phone–and the picture quality was amazing). I have never seen such horrific and biased officiating in my life as I witnessed in the Auburn-Georgia game, and that team of officials and the replay idiot in Birmingham all need to be fired and horsewhipped, frankly. They blew so many calls–the so-called Auburn fumble was either a touchdown for Auburn or a touchdown for Georgia, not a touchdown for no one, for one example–that I wouldn’t trust them with a flag football game for children.

Sunday we went to Mom’s grave and put out flowers, and then I drove home…and Sparky was very happy to see me once I did.

So, this post should technically be read before this morning’s, but…so it goes!

Ruin the Friendship

Monday morning and I am back at home, getting ready to face another day at the office. I am very tired this morning. I drove home yesterday and was exhausted once I did get home. I managed to unpack and get some things done, but not a lot. One thing that was rather blissful while I was gone was being almost completely out of the loop as far as the country and world are concerned–and it was kind of nice, actually. I started writing an entry while I was up there that I never finished and posted, either; I will try to get that finished at some point today. I have to leave early to see my GI specialist, and then I need to run some errands before I get to come home. Gah, I am tired. It’s going to not be an easy week, methinks. I also committed to going to Kentucky for Thanksgiving, which seriously won’t kill me, will mean a lot to my sister and father, and probably will get me over the Mom’s holiday thing. It’ll be three years on Valentine’s Day next year. Sigh.

I listened to Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives! on the ride to and from this past weekend, which I really enjoyed; a perfect choice for Halloween Horror Month. I don’t know that I’ll do a review of it or not; I haven’t decided and I have a lot that I need to get done over the next few days–we’re having a site visit this week, so I definitely am behind on getting things ready for that and I have all kinds of catching up to do. Daunting, yes, but nothing I cannot handle once I’ve made a to-do list, which I’ll have to do later on this morning–one for the office, one for me personally–so I can make sure I am not forgetting anything that I need to get done. My coffee tastes good this morning (must put ‘clean coffee machine’ on said to-do list) and I am taking that as a good sign that, despite feeling a bit run down and tired this morning, I will have a terrific day.

I am SURE of it!

Last night, after getting sort of caught up on the news a bit (I still feel very out of touch this morning), we started getting caught up on shows, and we also started watching Boots, the new Netflix show about a gay kid who somehow joins the Marines before “don’t ask don’t tell”; when being gay was an automatic dishonorable discharge and perhaps even some time in a military prison. (IT WASN’T THAT LONG AGO KIDS!) We’re really enjoying it thus far, and the actors are all pretty to look at. I didn’t think I’d enjoy a show about marine boot camp (at least not after seeing Full Metal Jacket), but I actually did. I also got caught up on The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which was fun, and really the only one I pay attention to anymore. I also read Chris Grabenstein’s The Hanging Hill, which I enjoyed as some light reading. It’s a middle-grade book, I’d say, and the kind of thing I would have loved when I was the right age for it. I can see why he’s so popular with kids–and he’s a lovely person to boot; I’d bought two of his books when we met and were on a panel together at Sleuthfest about ten years ago. (I do recommend Sleuthfest, writer friends and aspiring writers; it’s a marvelous crime conference put on by the Florida chapter of MWA.)

And now I get to settle back into the real world and my real life again. After my doctor’s appointment I am going to run pick up the mail and stop to get some fresh berries for my breakfasts at the Fresh Mart before coming home and doing some chores before cat-bonding and getting caught up on the news (sigh) and what’s going on in the world. I very deliberately disconnected from my phone and didn’t use it for anything other than deleting spam email for five days. I highly recommend this process for everyone from time to time; we do need to remain informed about what’s going on in this horrifyingly enflamed world. It helped my mental state dramatically.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I’ll try to get that trip blog post finished this week, and I even started a newsletter essay I would like to get done. Have a great Monday, and I will be back at some point soon.

The Fate of Ophelia

Tuesday morning, and did you miss me yesterday? LOL, I”m sure no one noticed my blog absence for a single day, especially since the world and country are burning to the ground, with a new, fresh dictatorial outrage on the hourly. I decided when I got up that I was going to ignore everything and work on getting the book finished; I had to have to it to my editor by 4 pm CST and…I got it to her by three. It still needs an epilogue and some fine tuning, but I am choosing to focus on the fact that I turned the fucking book in at long last. I wrote about twenty-five thousand new words since Friday, too–something I wasn’t so sure I could manage anymore, but there you have it: Greg can still binge write. Once that was done, I repaired to my easy chair, read more of The Haunting of Hill House, and watched television with Paul for the rest of the evening before I went to bed. Sparky let me sleep in a bit this morning before turning into a manic, frantic alarm–SPARKY NEEDED FOOD–but it was a relief to get the book turned in, not in the least because that horrible little voice in my head that I hate was taunting me that my book-writing days were behind me. Not the case, hallelujah and pass the ammunition, after all. I am a bit worn down this morning, worn out from the binge-writing, no doubt, but…I am very very happy and content this morning.

It has rained every day since Friday and we are due for more today. My windows are covered in condensation this morning, and while it is light outside, it’s also gray and gloomy. This is excellent weather for reading and binge-writing, apparently; it also helped me since I was writing about a hurricane. Today is going to be an easy day for me. I am on vacation, but not leaving to meet Dad in Alabama until tomorrow in the late afternoon. I am going to get up early to drive the car to the dealership for an oil change and to see if they can do something about that thing dragging under the car (long story, but it doesn’t affect the car’s operation, but I just can’t get to it myself to take it off) before I drive up to Alabama in the afternoon. I am also going to run some errands today, and I need to get the house cleaned up and picked up today, so I am going to try to do that around my reading.

I also wrote a lot yesterday on the laptop. Don’t get excited; I was fighting with Sparky over my desk chair (he sleeps in it while I am not home; but it’s napping in my chair is part of his daily routine, and the only choice is between being distracted and clawed to death, or let him have the chair), and finally said fuck this and settled into my chair, put the keyboard and mouse on my lap desk, and mirrored the screen with the television. I have tried doing this before, but it’s never really worked well for me but desperation and deadlines apparently can make me adapt. Good to know for the future, right? And that also removes the danger of television distraction.

I can’t remember the last time I had a day off with nothing hanging over my head to write. It’s actually kind of lovely, to be honest.

After I hit send on the manuscript yesterday, I did think about what I want to do now that Scotty X is practically finished (edits and copy edits and proofing yet to come), and it’s kind of nice having a vacation and a short trip to follow turning in a manuscript. I don’t know if I am going to have the usual post-book malaise, but it’s probably likely. The malaise has been pretty consistent for the last year or so, I’d say. It’s been a rough decade for one Gregalicious, but…be grateful it wasn’t worse, because it could have been quite easily.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines, such as they are, for the day. I’ll be back tomorrow, but probably won’t be around much again until Monday, when I go back to the office.

Only You

And here it is Wednesday again; halfway through the week, but this time I am heading into vacation time and not just the weekend. Huzzah! I feel pretty good this morning; no fatigue or aches detected, so let’s hope that lasts through the day. I was pretty fucking exhausted last night when I got home from the clinic; we weren’t super-super busy, but I was the only person counseling, so it was draining on top of being tired. I did hit a wall in the afternoon after my last patient, so came home and crashed out in my easy chair, intermittently dozing off and waking up again for a couple of hours before Paul got home. We watched the season finale of Platonic (which really is a lot of fun) and the latest Peacemaker, which had some big twists and a special guest star, too. I then went to bed early and slept deeply and well, or so it feels as I sit here swilling coffee and scarfing down coffee cake.

But that feels like a major win at this point.

I did get some work done on the book, but I was so damned tired I didn’t get very far with it before my brain shut down. And it’s October already! Where the hell did September go? This is what comes from wishing it were the weekend already and counting down the days; time goes by much faster, doesn’t it? I guess that’s what Mom meant by “wishing your life away,” wasn’t it? But I didn’t finish The Hunting Wives and it’s already Halloween Horror Month, so I am going to begin my reread of The Haunting of Hill House tonight. I also downloaded Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives to listen to in the car while driving this weekend, and am taking a couple of books with me to read before bed every night in Alabama next weekend. I should read horror more throughout the year, of course, but the inability to focus and read something as quickly as I used to really bugs me. I also want to watch some new-to-me horror films, and probably rewatch some, like Halloween (always seasonally appropriate for October) and The Haunting–I may even rewatch Sinners so I can pick up on more things I missed the first time through.

I also need to finish writing this book so I can write some newsletters. It’s been a very hot minute; the last one was my Katrina anniversary essay, and that was now over a month ago. But Bouchercon exhausted me, and it took me a while to get over that issue, only to have the reaction to my vaccine from this past weekend. It feels almost like I spent all of September fatigued and tired. But I also learned how to give myself my bi-monthly injection this month, so that’s a win, and I also reconnected with my writing brain, which was a HUGE win. That has also improved my mood and outlook dramatically; I hate when I fear that the writing part of my brain has dried up or atrophied. I doubt that I will ever get to be as prolific as I used to be, and not certain that I would even want that, to be honest–at least not while I still am working full time. I just don’t have the energy or the bandwidth to produce between three and five books in a year anymore…or the desire. I know I have a lot of book and story ideas I may never get around to writing, but whereas that thought used to fill me with panic…I’ve resigned myself to that reality and no longer get anxious about that inevitable truth.

Of course, that could be a side effect of the anxiety medication, too. I did also worry that the medication had sapped my will to write…but that is clearly not the case.

I have lots of things to get done around the office this morning, too…but I don’t think the clinic is very busy today, and it’s not just me this morning. I need to do some chores tonight in addition to writing–I was too tired last night and the kitchen is a disaster area, literally, again–but am feeling good about things and getting back on top of everything.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll say hello again tomorrow morning.

Jacob Elordi in Saltburn, looking like a snack despite the poor choice in reading materials.

Whenever I Call You “Friend”

Good morning, Sunday! I slept late again this morning despite Sparky’s best efforts, and after all those years of insomnia, I do enjoy getting up later. Yesterday was a pretty decent day, overall. I did some things, ran some errands, did chores and kind of overdid it…I was tired by the mid-afternoon, so just hung out in my chair with Sparky in my lap, and we watched some television while Paul dozed on and off for the rest of the day. Some of what we watched was research, so it’s not like I blew off the entire day or anything. The weather has also cooled; it was in the mid-eighties yesterday with a very low degree of humidity so it was actually pleasant outside (and yes, calling the mid-eighties pleasant and almost fall-like is an indication of how hellishly hot here these last few months)–supposed to be similar today, and since I have to walk to Walgreens later on, I’m hoping it is just like yesterday. I think we’re supposed to have cooler weather the rest of the week? The Katrina anniversary is also this Friday–so glad it’s my work-at-home day.

We finished watching Smoke last night and we really enjoyed it. Taron Egerton is a terrific actor, and I love Jurnee Smollett in everything I see her in. There were lots of twists and turns, and the show changes its centering in almost every episode, with some very clever writing sleight-of-hand along the way that always keeps you guessing. It was very well done, and I do recommend it.

I also watched the HBO documentary The Serial Killer’s Apprentice (I also have the book in my TBR stack). I’ve been interested in the Dean Corll/Candyman murders since I first heard about them when I lived in Houston back in 1989-1991, and one of my future projects is rooted in that horrific true crime story. We certainly do know a lot more about psychology, abuse, and grooming nowadays, and so Dr. Katherine Ramsland, who wrote the book based on her interviews with Corll’s teenaged ‘helper’, Elmer Wayne Henley Jr. The documentary doesn’t get into what Corll and his helpers did to those poor boys, but it was horrific. One torture detail that has stuck in my mind all these years since I first heard about the case and read a book about it–I don’t remember the title, but it was fairly old and was written shortly after the trials, and wasn’t terribly long. (When I talk about The Summer of Lost Boys, that’s my Candyman book.) Watching this documentary gave me some other ideas about how to write and structure said book.

I also had the television on for background noise while I was cleaning and doing things yesterday, and tuned in for the Kansas State-Iowa State game from Dublin (KSU lost). I cannot believe it’s football season already, with LSU playing this coming Saturday at Clemson.

The Cracker Barrel uproar from the MAGA morons has been incredibly amusing, but they do have a point. The redesign of the interiors is soulless and horrible, but as for removing the old man and the barrel and the words “old country store” off their logo? It is just rebranding to try to get a new customer base since theirs is dying off. Why is change so hard and terrifying for people to accept? I’ll never understand the perpetual victimhood of right-wingers, myself–yet they call us snowflakes. God, there are few things I despise more than hypocrisy. The only constant in life is change, so fighting change is a fool’s errand, and I sure don’t have time for that, although it sure seems a lot of other people do. It must be nice having a life that allows you the energy and time to waste bitching about a corporate decision that ultimately doesn’t affect or impact anyone in any way, shape or form.

But they have opinions, and of course, it’s the libs’ fault, even though most of couldn’t possibly give less of a shit about Cracker Barrel’s logo. But that redesign of the restaurant space is a mistake, a very big mistake. I maybe eat at a Cracker Barrel once a year with Dad when I’m in Kentucky, but that’s about it. Cracker Barrel hasn’t gotten this kind of attention since they were racist homophobes back in the day.

Had I but known how triggering this would be for the right-wing snowflakes, I would have pushed for a logo redesign for Cracker Barrel decades ago.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. There’s a lot of mess I need to clean up this morning, and I want to read a bit before Paul goes to his trainer. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later or tomorrow, okay?

Ah, those Chippendales calendars in the 80s!

When I’m Sixty-four

For the first time in decades, I am not taking my birthday off.

That’s why I am up at this ungodly hour, swilling down coffee and consuming coffee cake like it’s going out of style. I need to conserve my PTO, because I am going to the panhandle (barring unforeseen circumstances) for a week with my dad in October after a weekend in Alabama for Dad’s and Mom’s birthdays. I also have to take some time off during Bouchercon–there’s no way I can work all day and then host Noir at the Bar that Thursday, and probably not going to be able to do much work that Friday, either. I think I’ve managed to get it all planned out so that I will have just enough vacation time left to do the family thing in October, and then let things start building back up again for the new year. It’s going to be weird going to work on my birthday–I generally take the day off because I don’t need or want the attention that comes with it–but I will survive, I am sure.

Sixty. Four.

Christ on the cross.

I never planned for my future because I never thought I would have one. When I was a kid, I was certain I wasn’t going to have much of an adult life; I always had nightmares about not only dying but how I would die; either in a car accident, or a fall from a high place. This is why I am always, to this day, a little bit tense when I’m in a car and a LOT tense when I am the passenger. In my early twenties, I thought I was going to seroconvert and die from AIDS–why would I ever think that I would survive that pandemic? The next thing I knew I had somehow made it to fifty, then sixty–and now I am sixty-four, with another milestone birthday just a year in my future, should I make it till then. I am woefully unprepared for retirement, so most likely will continue to work for another few years to at least try to get my debt down to a manageable place. Ha ha ha ha, I’m so adorable, aren’t I?

I guess the ship has sailed on me dying young, hasn’t it?

But it’s been a pretty good life thus far, I have to say. I’ve written and published a shit ton of work, which can never be taken away from me, and neither can the awards I’ve either won or made the shortlist for…how many authors never make a shortlist of any kind? But the childhood conditioning that celebrating myself and things I’ve accomplished is a hubristic tempting of fate; how many stories and myths and fables are there about hubristic humans who anger a god? Like I often say, I live in the city I love with the man I love doing work that I love. All of my dreams came true, no matter what happens in the future.

My sixties haven’t been easy on me, and I don’t have the energy I used to have so recovery from physical, emotional, and professional blows doesn’t happen as fast as it used to; but I’m still pretty pleased and happy with my life. I try not to worry about future outcomes that I can’t control, and can only prepare for the things I can. If my thirties were about getting myself mentally healthy so I could have the life I wanted, and the forties were about getting started in my career and the fifties were about getting further along and getting better as a writer, my sixties have been a time of revisiting and rethinking my past, finally getting to understand myself and where a lot of my neuroses stem from. The anxiety medication has helped me enormously in that regard, too. Realizing how emotionally crippling my anxiety was when I was a minor also has enabled me to remember, and those memories aren’t painful anymore because so much of my misery was directly attributable to said anxiety.

So now I am sixty-four. I am older than my grandparents were throughout my childhood, which is also a staggering realization. It’s also weird to think that I was born sixteen years after the end of World War II, the country was sinking into the depths of the Cold War, and President Kennedy hadn’t even been in office for a full year yet. I never imagined what it would be like to be this age, mainly because I, as stated earlier, never thought I would live this long. I’m trying not to be that old person–you know, “When I was your age” or “We used to call it” and that sort of thing, because no one really wants to hear it. I’ve seen a lot in my life, witnessed all kinds of events (the Challenger explosion, 9/11, Watergate hearings, on and on), and lived through all kinds of things. I’ve lived in Alabama, Chicago, Kansas, California, Houston, Tampa, Minneapolis, and New Orleans. I went to two high schools in different states, and two colleges in different states. I went to Italy for a week over ten years ago. I’ve had so many jobs, but being a writer/sexual health counselor were the only things that took with me.

Life’s been good to me so far.

After work, I am going to head home and just hang out with Sparky. If I had to hazard a guess, Paul will probably get us Hoshun for dinner tonight. But I got my vacuum cleaner last week, and that’s all I really cared about.

Happy birthday to me! And may my next year be a lovely one!

The only picture of my face as a baby, my first day home from the hospital.