Category: writing

Tough Guys

Work at home Friday seems to have rolled around again somehow; this has been a very weird week. I’ve felt off these last few days, like I’m fighting something mild off which could be worse. Paul hasn’t been well this week–he’s doing better now, I was mildly concerned Wednesday night, and had already decided if he wasn’t better when I got home last night I was taking him to the emergency room. Fortunately, he was indeed better–still not 100%, but much better–so Nurse Sparky is doing his job. Sparky has also been sleeping in the bed with us at night, which I love and have missed (Skittle and Scooter loved sleeping in the bed with us) but I suspect that’s not a behavior pattern shift and more that he could sense we both weren’t feeling the best. I slept very well last night, and feel rested and good this morning. I have a meeting this morning and work to do at home, and I need to pack and drive to Baton Rouge later on. I’ll probably leave here so I get there around three thirty. There’s an author party tonight, too, which I am intending to attend, so wish me luck on that score. A party where I don’t know many people? Ordinarily that is something I would skip, but…anxiety medication, and we’ll see how that works.

Remember the other day, when I mentioned how Kristopher had alerted me to the existence of all three seasons of Friday the 13th–The Series on DVD? Well, Constant Reader, I ordered them and they arrived Wednesday, and I am really looking forward to watching the entire thing in order. Seriously, y’all, it takes very little to make me happy. I also picked up a copy of Skip Hollandsworth latest collection of true crime reporting, She Kills. Hollandsworth is my favorite non-fiction crime writer (behind Sarah Weinman, of course) and is why I subscribe to Texas Monthly, because he writes for them. Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe November should be Nonfiction November; it will help me get through some of the nonfiction collecting dust around here–and I can reread some old favorites, too, like The Real Lolita, In Cold Blood, and Blood and Money. I can also read some more horror this month too, before Noirmas Season1 rolls around again in December.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

I’m glad I feel so rested and good this morning. Yesterday was quite a day at the office. The clinic was slow but we were short-handed for walk-in testing, and so I had to pitch in and help our; we were also doing incentivized testing for young Black people, so I saw more people than usual yesterday and was very tired by the time I got home from work, so didn’t get anything much done last night other than bonding with Sparky, watching some news (I am optimistic about Tuesday, but am prepared for disappointment as well as shenanigans), and resting. I made soup for Paul, and we watched something but for the life of me, I cannot recall what it was this morning–that’s how tired I was last night. Obviously, there was no reading, editing, or writing done last night, and no cleaning. I do have to do something about the apartment before I leave today, which means not being lazy. So, I am going to do some quality assurance before and after my meeting, and probably will only put in a few hours for work today so I can clean up this mess.

I think the most disheartening thing I’ve seen lately is the “vote blue even if they are pro-Ice, approve of the mass deportations, thinks Biden was a failure, and thinks the trans community should be thrown away like trash” straightsplanations to people who, I don’t know, think people have the right to privacy, dignity and compassion? I’ve seen this all before–remember Sinema? Fetterman? Someone who will say shit like that in order to get elected but doesn’t mean it is someone we can trust? “Oh, a Democratic controlled Congress would never bring that to a vote? Remind me again how hard the Democrats fought for HIV/AIDS research in the 1980s again? I love how people will explain to other people why it’s okay for your rights to be put on the chopping block when it has no impact on them in the lest…Americans though, always have to have someone to punch down on, and it is absolutely hilarious that they are telling us, yet again, that this country’s founding principles are a fucking joke to them. It’s true–we learned this in the last three presidential elections. Funny how the people who were single issue voters in 2024 who got us into this fucking mess “because they can’t support a genocide” by electing the person who’d make it worse and are now supporting a different genocide and lecturing us on our civic duty. Excuse me, smug fuck-face with the unwashed ass, how fucking dare any of you lecture queer people? About anything?

Need I remind you of the fucking gay male genocide of the 80s and 90s?

Seriously, you’re lucky you don’t pull back a fucking nub.

Clearly I am feeling better because I can feel rage.

Never forget the right’s primary goal is to roll back everything for everybody who isn’t a conservative white man. Always expect the absolute worst from them–and frankly, the Left isn’t much better. I am predicting this now: if the Democrats do take back Congress and leave Schumer and Jeffries in charge, we might as well have not bothered to vote, because those two corporate shills are unworthy of leadership roles and are compromised. Period….which will mean a Republican sweep in 2028, more Heritage Foundation Supreme Court justices, and a Trump dynasty installed in the White House…do we need more Trumps in power? No, we don’t, and I hope I’m wrong, but we don’t need milquetoasts, we need a Ted Kennedy in the Senate and someone similar as Speaker.

Americans never learn.

And on that note, my work is calling to me, so I am going to bring this to a close and get back to it. Have a lovely Friday, and I’ll probably check in with you again in the morning before the panels, but it will also depend, and it may be short. We’ll see!

  1. This year, I intend to revisit Mildred Pierce, both book and movie. ↩︎

Follow My Heart

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I didn’t sleep well, so I feel a bit off this morning–I’ve kind of have felt weird all week, but last night I figured it out; I keep forgetting that my meds remove my mental anxiety, but my subconscious continues to send anxiety messaging to my body, which reacts…it’s very disconcerting, but not enough to stop taking them, ever. It’s nice not having my mind going into those horrible spirals anymore. Last night, I was very relaxed and comfortable in bed but never felt like I went into a deep sleep and kept waking up. But I don’t feel tired, just off a bit still–identifying why doesn’t solve the problem. I am hoping for a good day before my work at home day/drive to Baton Rouge for author party tomorrow. I plan on going to the party and probably just having a single glass of white wine (if that) and heading back to the hotel to read in bed–I’d love to finish Mazywood before the 31st, but it’s not a big deal if I don’t. See? That would have stressed me out before medication.

We finished watching Below, which really took a turn in the final two episodes I most definitely didn’t see coming. At the time, I was disappointed with the sharp turn it took, but the more I think about it the more I do appreciate it, even if there was kind of a tonal shift in the story. Josh Hartnett has aged beautifully, and he is good as the male lead, an ice harvester trying to scrape out a living for him and his kids on a rough little island off the Newfoundland coast. I was also pleased to see two familiar faces in Charlie Heaton (Stranger Things) and Rohan Campbell (The Hardy Boys). The episodes average about thirty minutes or so; so it can be taken in little bites or all at once in a binge pretty easily.

I also managed to get a newsletter out for Halloween Horror Month, in which I revisited the book version of The Amityville Horror (click on the blue if you want to read it), which actually offended my intelligence on the second read, approximately fifty years after the first. I don’t know what went before my own awareness of these things (I have started saying “I noticed this first” rather than stating something as a fact; because just because I didn’t experience, or was aware of, something doesn’t mean that that it was new when I discovered it for the first time.) I did notice, because my interest was intrigued, by things that cannot be explained, and that seemed to be very prevalent in my second decade. I did always love Ripley’s Believe It or Not on the comics page, and used to buy the book collections…which naturally led me to curiosity about things like Atlantis (whether it was the first time I’d heard of it or not, Atlantis the Lost Continent on the afternoon movie is a film I never forgot), the Bermuda Triangle, UFOs, Area 51–all those marvelous things that popped up into the culture during the 1970s, were all things I explored as a teenager. (It was also the decade that saw a horror revival with Rosemary’s Baby, The Exorcist and The Other.)

I also spend some time yesterday working on a newsletter essay about the trap of masculinity and rigid definitions of this; I’ve always felt that, since I am a man, anything I do is therefore masculine by definition. Maybe not in the way society likes to define masculinity, at any rate, but who made those rules, why are they so restrictive, and why does raising a son seem to mean breaking his spirit and turning him into an emotionally stunted, distant person? I often wonder–and I don’t have the time to investigate–I can’t research everything I think is interesting, after all–if men are performing masculinity for approval (which means you ain’t no alpha, bitch boi) rather than actually feeling it…it could explain a lot about the so-called “masculinity crisis.” I also wonder if an infant with no socializing as of yet will actually be drawn to toys and colors that are traditionally gendered, rigidly. (No straight man would be caught wearing pink, at least not until the 80s, without suspicion, is another example of this idiocy. (One of the reasons I want to revisit Larry McMurtry’s The Last Picture Show is because a lot of the boys’ behavior is just that, a performance, especially from Sonny. There’s also some queer content in the book which especially needs revisiting (remember, McMurtry co-wrote the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will chat with you again tomorrow morning once Sparky gets me out of bed. Till then!

The Sipsey River bottoms on the old family farm in Alabama. It was high because there had been a lot of rain.

Take It On The Run

Wednesday and somehow, we’ve made it to the middle of the week. There’s only a few more days left in Spooky Season, so I’ve got to get moving on reading Mazywood, although I can also listen to it on the drive to Baton Rouge and can finish reading it while up there on Friday night, or when I get back to the city on Sunday. My responsibilities for the day end at three, and so I’ll probably get home around five.

Oh, here is my schedule for Saturday in Baton Rouge:

11:00 am to Noon
Iberville Building, Le Francois, Room C
Rebels, Empires, and Impossible Choices in Young Adult Sci-Fi
Kristen Illarmo, Against the Red Sky: Colony Exposed
Yoon Ha Lee, Starstrike
with moderator Greg Herren
(Ages 12 to 17)

1:00 pm to 2:00 pm
Bienville Building, First Floor, Conference Center 173
Killer Calendar: New Orleans Mysteries for Every Season
Ellen Byron, A Murderer’s Guide to Mardi Gras: A Vintage Cookbook Mystery and A Crescent City Christmas: A Vintage Cookbook Mystery
Greg Herren, Hurricane Season Hustle: A Scotty Bradley Mystery
Michael Rigg, Shadows of Frenchmen: A Jonathan Gray, M.D. Mystery

2:15 pm to 3:00 pm
Cavalier House Books Tent
Book Signing

So, as you see, I should be home by five. It shouldn’t be an issue, since I’ll get home early enough to do some things and not be a total loser, if nothing else I can watch the night football games, or not; it looks the evening line-up is Texas-Mississippi State or Missouri-Arkansas; I’m not sure why Georgia-Florida isn’t a marquee night game, but it’s not. I should be able to catch the end of that one; LSU is off this week (the Louisiana Book Festival is always scheduled for LSU’s bye week, in case you’re wondering about priorities in the Pelican State) so not really caring too much to miss games, frankly. It’s also Halloween on Saturday, which will make the drive through town from the interstate interesting. Halloween is a big weekend in New Orleans, as I am sure one can imagine, and we turn the costume dial up to at least 20 on any costuming holiday….even so, I don’t miss going out for the evening, either.

Yesterday was a pretty good day, over all. We weren’t busy but not slow, either, so I didn’t have a lot of down time because I was trying to stay caught up on everything administrative and my other responsibilities. I was feeling a bit tired on the way home when I stopped to make groceries; tonight I have to run uptown to get the mail. I managed to get some things that were weighing on me done yesterday, too–I don’t know why I procrastinate on some things because I don’t want to deal with them at the moment but…it’s never terrible, you know? I always make things worse in my head than they actually are, and the meds don’t help with that, alas.

Apparently we’re cancelling Freddy Krueger because (checks notes) he molested and murdered children…um, he is the villain of the films. Just because he also had funny lines doesn’t mitigate that he’s a predator; are people really this media illiterate? (Ha ha ha, what am I saying? Of course they are.) Freddy isn’t, and never was, the hero: he was a child molester/murderer who was murdered and burned alive by the Elm Street parents, so in the original he was invading the dreams of their children and killing them in their sleep. How that turned him into a pop culture icon was two things: Robert Englund’s scenery chewing performance, and his snarky-funny dialogue. I am sure there are any number of academic tomes, essays, and dissertations on how serial murderers like Michael Meyes, Jason Voorhees, and Freddy Krueger became the heroes of their franchises; we are all primed to root for the main character through being conditioned by media (people think Lolita is a love story, which always makes me roll my eyes)–and you can see the difference in the Scream series, where the killers change in every film and the survivors are the stars. We root for Sidney, not Ghost-face, who is inevitably as witty and snarky as Freddie.

A big shout out in thanks to Kristopher Zgorski–the font of all information, I swear1–who let me know you can buy the entire run of Friday the 13th–The Series on DVD, which will arrive today or tomorrow! Then I can start my gradual re-watch of the show, which will include episodes I’ve not seen; it wasn’t a network show but rather syndicated so I would often forget to watch when it aired. I had friends who also watched and I watched it with them when it was on, or watching an episode they’d recorded. I loved the show and the entire concept behind it–an antique store selling objects cursed by the devil, with each episode centering on one object the team was trying to track down by checking newspapers for odd deaths (if it is ever rebooted–please and thank you, God–they can do the Supernatural thing of looking on-line). I still want to do some kind of supernatural style series of my own a la Sookie Stackhouse/Dark Shadows, but this concept, much as I love it, wouldn’t really work outside of New Orleans and I’d rather do it in a more rural, bayou parish.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely morning and day, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

Will this revealing lace pair of briefs escape the eye of the Meta censors? It shouldn’t, since it’s from one of their ads, but we will see, won’t we?

  1. Check out his blog, an excellent source for good reading, by clicking here. ↩︎

Don’t Let Him Go

Here we are on a chilly Tuesday morning (I love our autumn here), and the week is progressing nicely. We weren’t terribly busy in the office, so I was able to get a lot of admin paperwork taken care of, which was very nice, and I am getting geared up for this weekend. I should probably check when my panels are, shouldn’t I?

Fascism is on the run all over the planet–first Hungary, now Brazil and Serbia, and may we as Americans take their lead this time. (It’s wild to think how different of a world we would have now if this administration was in power when Germany invaded Poland in 1939) I’m not getting my hopes up for a blue wave, frankly; I’ve been fooled by polls before, and I’ve learned a hard, if horrible, lesson.

Apparently Harrison Butker can’t even do the one thing he’s good at. It’s almost like God don’t like ugly, you know? The right-wing curse, aka Everything Trump Touches Dies, does seem like a thing, doesn’t it? People seem to forget–Americans aren’t known for their memories–his first term, which, although horrible, seems almost tame in retrospect. (I like to remind people that Baron Harkonnen went to the LSU-Alabama game in 2019; the Tide lost at home for the first time since 2015.) Americans aren’t the good people we fooled ourselves into believing we are; we are the worst people, seriously, collectively. We are extremely self-righteous about our freedom and moral sanctimony, too. No wonder the rest of the world finds us unbearable so much of the time–and we’ve certainly lost what little decent reputation we had in the world. Are we great again yet?

And yet another Democrat running for the Senate in Iowa, one Josh Turek, decided that a week before the election was an excellent opportunity to out himself as a transphobe and a homophobe (they go together hand in glove, sorry not sorry). Was it necessary for him to do so, after Annie Andrews showed what she was made of a few weeks earlier? It’s an easy step from “insurance, including Medicare and Medicaid, shouldn’t cover trans people–make no mistake, that was what he really said–to “fuck marriage equality.” It’s amazing to me how so many people miss the boat with this stuff; has no one actually read and understood the fucking poem “First They Came For”? Saying anything to get elected –which is what his supporters are saying Oh he just had to say that–did he? How many votes did he gain from his anti-trans ad (which I will make sure follows him–and Andrews, too–for as long as I am alive, at the very least) and how many queer people might stay home in Iowa now? They are so quick to slice off a significant part of the base for any reason whatsoever–and then will wonder why there’s no enthusiasm for their campaigns? How can we trust him not to be another Manchin, Sinema, or Fetterman? We can’t.

Health care for all, bitch, includes trans people. Fuck him and the wheelchair he rode in on. Yes, I said it, and I will say it fucking again. A bigot in a wheelchair is still a bigot, right, Madison Cawthorne? Greg Abbott? Need I go on?

I for one am sick to death of having my community’s vote taken for granted by politicians who will gleefully flush us down the toilet for a couple of bigot votes. This has never been a winning Democratic strategy, because who else will you flush for expediency? At least he showed us all who he is, so we can look forward to him, if elected, blocking progressive legislation. Is another Fetterman 2.0 a winning strategy? My years of loyalty and support for\the Party–I’m registered as a Democrat so I can vote in Louisiana primaries, but I am not a centrist and I am tired of timidity and “change is very slow”–are dwindling with every latest betrayal. Seriously, do I honestly believe Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries aren’t going to bend over and lube up their asses for the administration? If they were good at their jobs 2024 would have had a different outcome, and yes, I do believe that. They are both hacks and owned body and soul by their donors. They aren’t going to push back on anything; they may send a few strongly worded emails…what have they done for the last two years? And don’t give me that “they don’t have any power!” when Republicans, when in the minority, have gummed up everything. Obama has a pretty good record, sure–he wasn’t the greatest at everything–but what about the Democratic congressional record of the last twenty years? We haven’t had a liberal lion who could get shit done since Ted Kennedy died.

If there is a Blue Wave, watch people like Durek derail any and every thing progressive that comes over his desk, and then watch the base get dispirited, disappointed, and stay home in 2028. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Heavy sigh.

But state of the world aside, I had a very lovely day yesterday. I did some more writing and editing last night around being a Sparky bed, and worked on the current essays in progress–The Amityville Horror and Mazywood, which I need to finish reading–which was fun. I do enjoy writing, and hope to dip back into the book tonight. I am loving this cooler weather, which is my sweet spot–and my favorite time of year in New Orleans. I am also doing some research and planning of the next Scotty, which I am kind of itching to get back to.

And on that particular note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Till then!

Karnak Temple at night

Out of Season

Another Monday morning and it’s about time for me to head into the spice mines. I had a very restful and slightly less productive weekend than I would have liked, but isn’t that always the case? I feel good this morning and like it’s going to be a good week, with all kinds of things going on. Friends are coming into town this weekend, I have the Louisiana Book Festival this weekend, and we get an extra hour of sleep on Sunday morning for the last time, thank God. LSU has a bye week, but there are good games Saturday that I’m going to miss, alas. I have to get better organized, and that sounds like a very good plan for this week.

I read more of Mazywood yesterday and it really is most wonderful. Tananarive Due is a Queen, y’all, and you should be reading her–and other diverse writers, too–because one, she’s a fucking incredible writer, and two, we white people need to read more diversely in our choices. I know white people whine about reading outside their own experience, but don’t you want to grow as a person, understand the world a little better, all while having an incredibly enjoyable reading experience? And Mazywood is, above all else, an excellent read, with social commentary woven into the story….one I’m glad Due decided to take on.

It wasn’t a bad day yesterday, even if the Saints lost in Paris yesterday morning. It’s taken me a while to get used to the Saints losing all the time again–the Brees years did spoil us all, and the Saints’ return to previous form took a while to get used to once more. I always suspected the success was a temporary aberration in Saints history, but we have a Super Bowl win, which is more than some teams can say. I ordered groceries to be delivered, and after reading, I actually did some writing and editing, getting back on that horse and it wasn’t terrible. The chapter I need to redo didn’t really require much editorial revision, but I need to read it through again to make sure it flows properly–and I am also ready to move into the next chapter as well, which is progress. I have chores to do tonight that I blew off yesterday, and then I can settle in for the evening. We got caught up on AHS: 13, which is now completely off the rails and makes no sense…because the overarching connected universe of AHS doesn’t make sense either. What can I say? Expecting cohesion and clarity from a Ryan Murphy show is a fool’s game. We also started watching Below on Netflix with Josh Hartnett, who has aged like a fine Dom Perignon. It’s interesting, to say the least, and I am intrigued to get back to it.

Over the weekend, social media reminded me of an under-appreciated gem of a horror series that Paul and I both loved–Penny Dreadful, which was exceptional. Paul and I loved it, and maybe for Halloween Horror Month next year maybe I will revisit the show. Thinking about horror series always makes me think of one of my favorites, Friday the 13th–The Series, which was low-budget but a lot of fun with a great concept I’ve always wanted to borrow. I’ve been trying to find it on streaming for an eternity, and while it’s always been hard to find and never in its entirety, I came across a Hulu channel called Comet that shows two episodes every Sunday at eleven and twelve, so I’ve started recording them for a rewatch project; I also have a fan-written book about the show called Curious Goods that I’ve always wanted to get around to, and should have taken on this month. I forget there’s always horror nonfiction! Bad Greg, bad Greg. After all, Stephen King’s Danse Macabre was the first nonfiction book I read studying a genre in an accessible style.

And on that note, best head into the spice mines before I’m late–which would be a bad augur for the week. Have a great Monday, Constant Reader, and I will be back on the morrow.

Taste the rainbow…

Keep On Loving You

Here we are on Sunday morning and I stayed in bed far too late for me to have any reason to. I didn’t do a whole hell of a lot–there were a lot of great games to watch yesterday; college football is insane this season (more on that later)–besides some chores and brainstorming, but it was, over all, an absolutely lovely day around here. I was dragging a little bit, not going to lie, but by eleven I was parked in my easy chair while Paul departed to workout with his trainer and then ride the bike at the gym, watching the LSU game with Sparky curled up in my lap, which is where he stayed all day. One time when I got up he wouldn’t move, and so I had to carry him to get something to drink, grumbling the entire way, and by the time we were back in the chair, he grumbled, made a circle, and went back to a deep, dreaming sleep so he made interesting noises and twitched every now and then.

Pets are pretty amazing, and I will never understand why people don’t like cats. Sparky is always waiting in my workspace windows when I comehome from work, and once he sees me he jumps down and runs to the front door. It’s so nice, and then he always wants me to pick him up and cuddle with him before he wants down and to eat, and then he camps out in my lap. All of our cats have been affectionate.

The Saints are playing in Paris, even as I type this, but it just feels wrong to be watching a football game over breakfast and coffee.

I did do some brainstorming yesterday for some stories I am working on, and then found all the notes I made for my essay about The Only One Left …and of course didn’t include any of the points and comparisons I had wanted to, which is maddening because they were all smart and insightful. Heavy heaving sigh. Oh, well, can probably use them again at another time, talking about Gothics–because I will most certainly write more about Gothics and my theories about them. I love educating myself–and I no longer worry if my “insights” are nothing new. I am not an academic and all my education in genres and so forth are mostly self-education…I certainly have learned more by reading on my own than I ever did in any class. I also realize that fear was part of the anxiety I no longer feel, which is another lovely discovery I’ve made since my better living through pharmaceuticals move several years ago.

As I mentioned earlier, college football was a bit crazy yesterday. The renewal of the Tiger Bowl was disappointing. I hate rooting against Auburn, but I do always appreciate it when it’s a great game–and there have been some absolutely amazing games in the series…but LSU was up 31-10 half-time, and the final score ws 38-17. Sure, I’m glad LSU won, but…Auburn was flat after their huge win over Georgia last weekend. I don’t know that LSU was that much better than Auburn, but it looked like LSU played well…but that’s just the way things are in college football, and the SEC in particular, these days. South Carolina upset Tennessee in a thriller; UCF beat BYU in a thriller a week after BYU upset Notre Dame; Alabama looked like they were in trouble with Texas A&M before putting them away; and the capper on the night was Texas’ upset over Mississippi (thanks for hooking them, Horns!).

I also finished my newsletter about Peter Straub’s Shadowland, which I enjoyed very much (You can click here to read it!). Peter Straub is just one of those writers, you know? Everything is good. I remember his Blue Rose trilogy, but I don’t remember much about it other than I didn’t really understand it? I should definitely go back and reread those–Koko, Mystery and there’s one other. I have so much rereading to do!

I’ve ordered some groceries to be delivered, and I am going to go read more of Mazywood once I post this; I have some more newsletters to work on as well as some editing and writing. I also have some chores to try to get around to…so I should probably head into the spice mines and finish this up, no? I’ll be back tomorrow morning as I return to work for a new week…so I will see you again then, and thanks for stopping by!

Statues of the Egyptian lion-headed goddess Sekhmet

Let’s Go

I like the nightlife baby!

Sorry, had a The Cars moment. Their music, by the way, still holds up.

So it’s Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, LSU is playing Auburn at eleven, and most likely will have some things delivered. I’ll probably do chores while the games play; after that I’ll do stuff while switching between Texas A&M-Alabama and Tennessee-South Carolina. This evening, I’ll hate Mississippi even more for making me root for Texas again this season. (Don’t worry, friends who are UT fans, with all the SEC weirdness going on these days I will definitely be rooting for the Longhorns again, more than once, before the season ends. Realignment has changed things for sure; more on that at another time–I know most of y’all couldn’t give less of a fuck about college football, and I appreciate your not minding and bearing with me on it.) I feel good and rested this morning, and once this is posted, I’ll move to my easy chair where I’ll read before the games. I also want to get some of my newsletters worked on, another one sent out, and I definitely want to finish Mazywood, which is superb. I also need to do some research, work on a short story or two, and edit the book so I can move on to writing the next chapter. Bouchercon is going on right now, but I have no FOMO–I’m getting used to not attending things, and I really don’t miss it. Don’t get me wrong, most of my conference experiences in the crime fiction world have been pleasant, at least for the last twelve years or so, at any rate.

Yesterday was a good, if weird, day. I was a bit off yesterday for some reason I can’t quite understand; I took the wrong exit off the interstate for Costco, for one, and construction on the way back meant a detour to the Earhart which…actually wasn’t a bad way to come home from Costco. We spent over four hundred dollars, but didn’t seem to get all that much, either. I forgot to turn the dishwasher on before bed. I forgot about finishing the bed linens , so wasn’t able to go to bed until that was all done–can’t go to bed without sheets on it, can I? We finished The Diplomat last night, which is excellent, and then AHS:13, which is a hot mess but kind of fun; I actually enjoyed last night’s episode–about Madison’s falling in love with Satan’s son–but none of it makes any real sense; it’s like they threw in everything including the kitchen sink. We also watched this week’s Traitors (spoiler: they murdered one of the hot boys, so no more shower shots of him lathering his glistening wet muscles), which was very fun. I did run my errands yesterday morning, so I don’t have any to do today–I have to order things to be delivered, but that’s not a big deal–and I’ll probably run one tomorrow morning, which is fine.

I am loving this chillier weather; it was nice not getting drenched with sweat and overheating yesterday on the Costco trip, which is probably why I was finding it so exhausting to go. I love that I am feeling better and better with every passing day; sixty-five isn’t that bad. I thought how bad i felt was going to be the new normal (“you’re just getting older”–fuck you, quack doctor, if it were up to you I’d be dead now, you miserable homophobic prick), but now that I am healthier and recovering more all the time, this sixties thing isn’t so terrible. I like the lack of fucks I have now, and I am very glad that treating my anxiety has released me from the horrors of everyone has to like me I can’t have anyone dislike me and now? I couldn’t care less if people like me or not. I have very dear friends that I cherish, and I know a lot of people whose company I enjoy being in–but my default is always going to be solitude (Paul doesn’t count) and while I do marvel at how different my life could have been had I gotten it treated before, I don’t want any do-overs or anything. It is amazing how much my anxiety drove me to bad behavior on occasion, but at least now I understand it. Doesn’t excuse me behaving in a manner of which I am not proud, but it’s nice to know why. That dichotomy of not caring whether I am “popular” while having deep-rooted anxiety about not being liked created some intense cognitive dissonance–and I am hoping that isn’t going to be an issue anymore.

And on that note, I am going to get some cereal and another cup of coffee and head into ye olde Mines d’Spice. Have a happy Saturday, and above all else, GEAUX TIGERS!

Candy-O

And work-at-home Friday has rolled around again, somehow. I slept later this morning, and do feel a bit wrung-out, but not bad; I suspect my morning shower will take care of that completely. I slept very well–I am loving this cooler weather; I even wore long sleeves last night to dinner at Le Petite Grocery (which was superb on every level; the food and the conversation with my friend, whom I adore). I am in a pretty good mood this morning, and I also don’t have any meetings this morning, either.I have some paperwork to work on, and we’re going to Costco later. I also have some errands to run, which I may do this morning to get out of the way. LSU plays at eleven tomorrow, so I won’t have a lot of time to do much tomorrow morning…I’ll figure it all out later; right now I just want to swill coffee and finish this.

The apartment is also a mess, and I have to do the bed linens and the dishes (again), and it would be nice to get my inbox emptied today. But we’ll see how the day goes. I also have to finish watching this week’s Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which I had started after work yesterday but had to turn off to go have dinner. The coffee is starting to clear my cobwebs, which is always a most excellent thing. I need to write, and I need to make a to-do list for this weekend so I don’t get off track and/or get easily distracted by a Youtube wormhole or something…which is ridiculously easy to do. Thanks, ADHD!

Apparently three escorts have come public with allegations that Lindsay Graham was a client, and I am not exactly sure why this is news? It would have been news had it broken while he was alive and actively doing damage not only to the queer community but to the country overall as well. He’s dead now, and being gay isn’t a crime…I am also unsure if it’s a crime to pay for sex. I know it’s a crime to get paid for sex, which is horribly wrong; the sex worker wouldn’t be doing sex work if not for the people willing to pay them. (I also don’t believe sex work, regardless of who’s the client and who’s the worker, should be a crime; more of that Puritan ethos in our society, and it’s about the patriarchy, as so many things are. The presumption is that only men will pay for sex and only from women; so of course the man is the victim and the woman the criminal.) Graham was dogged by these rumors his entire life, and I am not a proponent of bullying someone for being gay because some people think he might be gay. He clearly hated himself, and I cannot imagine how hellish his life must have been. If he hadn’t worked so hard against us, I might even be capable of some empathy for his fucked-up psyche. But money and power and acceptance by his peers was more important, and I am glad I chose not to live miserably. If anything, Graham is just another victim of homophobia in the end, even if it was entirely self-inflicted.

And seriously, who the fuck cares at this point? I also remain grateful that I didn’t end up like him, which was always a possibility until I turned thirty.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Enjoy your Friday, Constant Reader and I’ll be back in the morning before the game. Till then!

Shoo Be Doo

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Tonight I am having dinner with a friend at Le Petit Grocery uptown, which is a marvelous place to eat, and how much do I love having a lovely meal with a good friend? I love it a lot, thank you for asking. I’m not completely agoraphobic, but I do prefer being home to being most places. Dad admitted when I was in Kentucky that he doesn’t have groceries delivered because it gets him out of the house…and I had to admit that not leaving the house ever sounds pretty amazing to me, which is probably not a good thing. I am solitary by nature (my lifelong dream has always been to live alone–Paul is probably the only person I could live with, and I do miss him when he’s gone, so that’s something, right?), and really, I never minded not being popular and I didn’t really miss it, either, other than having a sense that I was supposed to want those things. I would have been fine had I not been bullied, you know? That was what made school miserable for me–so why would I ever want to be around people in general? You can never go wrong never completely trusting straight people, harsh as that sounds, because they’ll almost always disappoint you1–and I’m not that trusting of gay white males, either. I have also found that standing with, and listening to (most) Black women will never steer you wrong2.

I also sent out a newsletter yesterday, about Riley Sager’s delightful The Only One Left, and you can click on the title there to read it, if you so desire. It’s really not horror–it’s a thriller, first and foremost–but as a Gothic, I feel like it can be considered “light horror,” at least. There are so many novels that straddle the line between crime and horror, and Gothic suspense definitely can go either way; Victoria Holt’s ghost monk in Kirkland Revels was absolutely terrifying and scary. I love that Gothic mood of tightly wound tension kept in check but keeps building until it explodes.

I don’t feel tired this morning, and I got out of bed at six promptly, having been already awake since five thirty. I was awake when Sparky jumped into the bed this morning, curling up at my feet to wait for the alarm. My joints don’t ache and my legs don’t feel tired, which is a big win, as it not being mentally tired. I clearly needed the time off, didn’t I? Tomorrow I have work at home chores to do, and some errands to run, but it should be a good day. I found another anthology I want to write a story for, and when talking about it with a friend3, he gave me an absolutely brilliant concept for the story, which I am kind of excited about writing, and now I have to come up with a working title, at the very least. I may even make it a Scotty Bradley story, if I can make it work that way. My first ever Scotty short story! I wrote a Chanse short story for the collection I did a few (probably more; I have no concept of times past) years ago, but no Scotty, ever. Maybe now that’s he’s older and not a bar slut anymore? I do want to get a lot of writing done this weekend, wish me luck. I started working on another short story for another anthology–well, finishing one that’s been moldering in the files for years, but fits a call I saw.

The Tiger Bowl (LSU-Auburn) is this weekend, and it’s always a mixed bag for me. I hate for either team to lose, so inevitably I just hope for a good game. Conference realignment killed the rivalry, since they now no longer play every year, which makes football season a little easier for me, but Auburn has rotated onto LSU’s schedule, and this year the game is at 11 in the morning and is at Jordan-Hare. I suspect when the time for the game to air was decided, no one dreamed both teams would be ranked and have the same record–or that Auburn would pull off the big upset at Georgia last weekend. I do like it–although it feels weird–when LSU is finished playing by three, because the rest of the games don’t really require watching; I usually watch games until the LSU game is over, and whatever is on after that isn’t as important to me to watch. I usually do–for example, was really glad to have watched BYU-Notre Dame last week4. I probably should check the TV schedule; I know Mississippi is at Texas (and damn them for making me root for Texas again), and I think both Missouri and Kentucky have a tough row to hoe. (Correction: Kentucky plays Vanderbilt, and Missouri has a bye.) I’ll probably have the Alabama-A&M game on while I do other things.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Thursday, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning on Work-at-Home Friday. See you then!

This is the ad for Peachy Clean, a gummy that helps you clean out before being penetrated. I am simply amazed at how small his waist is.
  1. I cherish my straight friends. I cherish all of my actual friends, to be honest. I always make it sound like I don’t have any, which isn’t true. But it’s also true that I am not very social, and getting less so all the time. ↩︎
  2. Then there’s the Candace Owens types. We don’t talk about them. ↩︎
  3. See? I do have friends. ↩︎
  4. My family can’t be the only ones who watch Notre Dame games hoping to see them lose, can we? ↩︎

Since I Held You

Here we are on a chilly Tuesday morning, after reality’s bitch slap yesterday, but I jest, really; it was very pleasant feeling rested mentally and physically, and it was a pretty good day overall, methinks. I felt good most of the day, my breakfast and lunch were marvelous, and I was also able to leave a bit early to beat traffic, which was also lovely. I do not miss the humidity. If we could have the heat with a bit less humidity, that would make an enormous and great improvement on our summers. It’s also nice to be waking up in my bed under a pile of blankets on a chilly morning, with a hungry cat nuzzling me to get up and feed him.

I sent out a newsletter yesterday finally, about the movie Gaslight, which I watched with my dad last week (you can click here to read it, if you like). We also watched Beat the Devil, which didn’t move me to write about it; it’s not one of Humphrey Bogart’s best, despite an excellent cast including Jennifer Jones, Robert Morley, and Gina Lollobrigida. While Gaslight may not technically be a horror film, what else would you call a plot that involves a husband trying to drive his wife insane? I also think the Gothic trope of “is my husband trying to kill me?” pushes them into the horror realm; what is more horrible than marrying someone who wants to kill you? And no one believes you? I remember reading an article a long time ago that said that one of the biggest fears shared by most Americans is wrongful imprisonment, which was taken to mean not just prison, but being locked up in a mental hospital when you don’t belong there or being forced into rehab. The fear also has the corollary of not being believed, and as someone who has been accused of doing something wrong that I didn’t do–and wasn’t believed–is a fucking nightmare.1

I came straight home after work, no stops or errands, and did some more chores once I got home and plopped down into my easy chair. Paul got home later, and we watched another episode of The Diplomat, which is most excellent, and they just added Jodie Whittaker, whom I love, to the cast as the new British Prime Minister. I slept well last night, and feel relaxed still this morning, which is nice. It sucks when you cannot sleep well, and that last week before I left I most definitely was having sleeping issues, and I am not sure why that happened. I also spent some digging out from under the massive emails I’d accumulated while I was gone, and yes, I know I still owe some replies to people, which I am hoping to get to today. I also have text messages to reply to–the bane of coming back from a wireless blackout is having to clean up everything that was let go for the duration–but I managed to get everything caught up at the office that had been let slide during my absence; the least fun part of vacation is catching up on everything that accumulated. I am also enjoying this cool weather, that seems to not be a false autumn but our actual fall–yes, when seventies are the high during the day but sixties at night is fall in New Orleans; colder than that is what we consider winter. I forgot to turn the dishwasher overnight, so will turn it on right as I leave…then I can unload it tonight when I get home. There’s also a load of laundry I need to do tonight, too. I worked on another newsletter (two actually; books I’ve recently read), and tonight when I get home it’s time to get caught up on the Housewives. I also need to make a Costco list, since we are going to go Friday afternoon after work.

The banality of every day life can be a boon sometimes rather than a bane, methinks.

In my random dive through the Internet yesterday I discovered two more interesting things about Louisiana: one, that Decatur Street used to be called “Vendetta Alley” because of all the shootings and knife fights back in the day (and doesn’t that make a great title for a noir?); and Watson Break, another indigenous mound city in Louisiana, to go along with Poverty Point. I am always learning new things about New Orleans and Louisiana’s history, which is fun but a constant reminder of how little I know about both–which begs the lie that I am somehow an expert on all things New Orleans. Trust me, I am not.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Tuesday full of tacos, if that’s your jam, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow bright and early. Till then!

Back in my bar-slut days, I had a pair of white jean Daisy Dukes much shorter than the ones above.
  1. Not being believed is a key component of Gothic suspense. ↩︎