Category: writing

Down by the Lazy River

Happy Sunday to all who celebrate! My alarm cat got me up just past six, and yet again I had a lovely night’s sleep, which was simply marvelous. Yesterday was not a bad day; I got some rest and did some things, but put no pressure on myself and just recharged my batteries. I do have a sink full of dirty dishes, and the kitchen’s kind of a mess, really, but I can get that taken care of today. LSU doesn’t play today until five, so I have the whole day to get things done. Or not, depending on how I feel….but I definitely don’t want to come home from work tomorrow to a dirty kitchen.

My newsletter has been getting new subscribers since my return to it after the illness (which, while chronic for the rest of my life, has actually turned out to have been a good thing. Typical Gregalicious craziness, am I right?), but again, I try not to think about that too much because I don’t want to have to worry about what I write there. I know my Pride posts this month have generated some clicks; maybe it’s just that, you know? Supporting the queer author during Pride? Why do I even question any of this instead of just accepting it?

Which is more crazy Gregaliciousness, but that’s who I am.

As I said, I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked yesterday, but I did watch LSU win their baseball game (GEAUX TIGERS), had groceries delivered, did some cleaning and picking up, and read some more. I finished my reread of The Mystery of the Haunted Mine, which other than some racial insensitivities (mostly about native Americans and Mexican-Americans, but they could easily be corrected, there wasn’t a lot of it) actually holds up really well; I greatly enjoyed the book. I also read some more of The Dark on the Other Side, but got so caught in the kids’ book that I didn’t really read much of anything else. My next y/a read will be Incident at Loring Groves, by Sonia Levitin, which won the first Edgar for y/a when it was finally split off from juvenile. I looked Levitin up and she’s kind of amazing, as was the author of The Mystery of the Haunted Mine, Gordon Shirreffs. I also want to reread some of Phyllis A. Whitney’s juvenile mysteries, which I enjoyed a lot as a kid (I also was a big fan of her novels for adults, which were romantic suspense but really good mysteries, too), and I think I have some of them around here somewhere.

I also thought about some of my own fiction writing yesterday while scribbling notes in my journal. If I can focus, I’d like to get some fiction writing on the short stories done, and some editing as well on the books. I should spend some time with Summerhouse, and I do have other chores to do around the house. I don’t know what time LSU plays today, but I can read while I watch that, or edit. I like that my brain is being creative again (I’m still loving that gay version of No Way Out I was thinking about the other day, so add that to the list of future projects I want to get to at some point), but it’s not doing me any good unless words are appearing in the electronic files and I am drawing closer to a goal, you know? I also need to make another to-do list, at the top of which will be calling my specialist, because we still haven’t scheduled my first infusion, the infusion meds people are getting antsy about getting started (which is an interesting phenomenon I didn’t think happened in American health care anymore; but I am sure it has nothing to do with my health and something to do with money because that’s what our health care system is about: capitalism), and to be honest, I am a little curious about why it’s not been schedule, and I think I am going to need more prednisone because I am getting low and there’s still weeks to go on that treatment. So, yes, indeed, we need to make a to-do list once I finish breakfast.

We also finished Department Q last night and really liked it a lot. I hope it gets renewed. It’s well-written, tightly plotted, and incredibly acted. Not sure what we are going to watch next–probably the Paul Rubens documentary, which will be terribly sad, but probably a good idea to watch and evaluate during Pride. The behavior of homophobic garbage on social media because it’s Pride Month only serves to make me more defiant, and more determined to call it out and shame it whenever I see it. Your ignorant bigotry comes across my feed? Complain to the algorithm after I am finished eviscerating your unwashed flat ass. It’s fucking Pride, can’t you leave us the fuck alone for thirty goddamned days? Would it really kill you that much to not be a piece of shit for that short a period of time?

Obviously, it would.

And if Simone Biles dragged me for the filth that I was the way she did Riley Gaines yesterday, I think I’d just shut the fuck up and disappear. But pathetic loser crybaby Riley Gaines will, once again, play the victim while she bullies children on her infernal crusade. Riley, how do people regard Anita Bryant today? Look it up–that’s your legacy. That’s how you’ll be remembered. As a fifth-place loser who basically threw a tantrum for finishing in fifth place because you weren’t good enough to place. How did you do at the Olympic Trials? And comparing you with Simone Biles, in swimming terms, is comparing you to Katie Ledecky.

Yeah, loser, you’re not even remotely close to her league. Sorry Mommy and Daddy treated every bowel movement as a child as more proof of how special you were, but why should trans people suffer because you had shitty parents and your spoiled, Veruka Salt behavior? Take the L, bitch, and disappear.

I also watched Coco Gauff win the French Open yesterday, which was awesome. I really like Coco, and have enjoyed watching her rise. That’s two slams she’s won, and she’s only 21, and she seems to have the right perspective on it all–and dealt with the c*nty ungraciousness of the Number One seed’s press conference like a champ. I never liked Sabalenka, and I never will now; nothing annoys me more than a sore fucking loser (cough Riley Gaines cough).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning for sure.

Out gay actor Cooper Koch is having a moment, and good for him!

King of My Heart

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well–at least so far. Sparky is behaving himself (for now; I am sure he’ll be attacking my ankles and feet at any moment before going to sleep for the rest of the morning on the couch, because that’s just how he rolls, you know?). He got me up before six yesterday morning, which was fine. I managed to tumble out of bed and head to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of ambition; and I got the chores caught up that I had left so that I don’t have to play catch-up this morning. I also finished my Vicki Barr newsletter, but won’t be posting that until after Pride because, for this entire month, my newsletter is all gay all the time! Woo-hoo! I’ve also been picking up new subscribers, which is kind of nice, too–I generally don’t pay much attention to that kind of stuff because it makes me nervous, and I worry about writing for the audience instead of writing what feels right for me at the time–that kind of thinking is anathema for a writer, and it happens much too often for me when I am working on a novel or a short story than I would prefer.

But it was a good, productive day, and we did make it to Costco–we even got out spending less than four hundred, a rarity indeed–and the traffic on the way home wasn’t bad other than the usual occasional stupid white man nonsense. I read some more of Summerhouse, and The Dark on the Other Side, both of which I am enjoying thoroughly (I don’t remember the plot of the reread of the Michaels, so it’s like reading a whole new book), but also fell asleep in my chair after I finished the laundry–not really asleep, actually, but just sitting there kind of staring into space while my mind raced around, and before I knew it, it was seven and time to make dinner. But…I got a lot done around here, I got my work done, and we were able to get in two episodes of Department Q last night, which was lovely. The characters are all so interesting and complex! I think I am watching more for the characters than the cold case (which, to be fair, is interesting) they are working on.

And that’s saying a lot for a crime show, but of course, it’s British, not American.

I am feeling a bit tired and low energy this morning. Sparky the Alarm Kitty let me sleep till quarter past six this morning, which was odd, but my coffee is tasting good. The kitchen is still kind of a wreck–I still have stuff to put away from Costco, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and reloaded, and the rugs are all messed up–but I can get that all taken care of in a jiffy before retiring to my chair to read some more. LSU plays at 1 in the super regional, and I am going to have some food delivered today from the grocery store so I don’t have to leave the house. We had a marvelous thunderstorm and downpour last night (while the sun was out; it’s very disorienting to have it be so bright in the evening while the walk is covered in water and it sounds like a waterfall outside, the sound of falling water only disrupted by the occasional clap of thunder) but much as I hoped it would last all night, it did not. The heat index for today is forecast to be 105 (!!!!), which is another reason I don’t want to go outside if it can be helped today.

But the first part of my breakfast, already eaten, is making me feel more alert and awake and alive, which is, of course, quite marvelous. I want to write this weekend, too–I have two short stories that I want to finish first drafts of, I need to reread some old manuscripts to get back into writing them, and I need to make another to-do list. I’ve also organized all the short story submission calls I want to submit to–one of the new stories is for a deadline on June 20th, so I need to get moving on that one, for sure; I have something already that might be able to be tweaked and revised to fit, but that requires me sitting with my butt in my desk chair writing, doesn’t it?1

And on that note, the writing and cleaning and organizing (I also cleaned out my inbox and filed some yesterday like a good Gregalicious) isn’t going to do itself, so let me get my bowl of Cheerios, bring this to a close, and head into the spice mines. Have yourself a lovely little Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Ballerinos have always fascinated me with what they can do with their incredible bodies. I’d like to write a ballet noir at some point, bec
  1. Which is why I don’t mind getting up early the way I used to; I’ve been able to get so much more done on the weekends not sleeping in, plus it makes it much easier to get back into the swing of getting up early on Monday. Win-win? ↩︎

Red

Lovin’ him was red…

My favorite Taylor Swift jam is “Red,” by the way.

Remote Friday and all is quiet and well in the Lost Apartment this morning, other than Sparky complaining ( as always) that his breakfast wasn’t enough food. (He always insists he is starving to death, the little beast. And his plaintive cries are so convincing, too–until I ignore him and he goes back to sleep.) I had a good day yesterday; I had another marvelous night’s sleep on Wednesday and felt really good yesterday. I did some writing–not much, mostly some prep work and editing

Yesterday at work I decided I didn’t want the lunch I brought with me after all, and decided to use one of the food delivery apps to get Five Guys. This was a brand new experience for me, one I had been wanting to try since I was housebound and sick, and yesterday I just decided fuck it, I want Five Guys and DoorDashed it. It went swimmingly, I might add, and I am going to have to be careful now–this was so easy it will be very tempting to do this a lot more often–like Saturday for lunch. Stop it, Greg, keep it under control. I know, I am a late adapter, but I always have been. And the temptation to get food delivered all the time is going to be a struggle for me. All I do since the illness is think about food, and what would be good. There are all kinds of places on those delivery apps that look interesting and I want to try–maybe I’ll splurge again this weekend. See how easy it is to give into temptation.

The combination of Canadian wildfire smoke and the Saharan dust has made things weird here in New Orleans. It smells like burning rubber outside, and the dust has made for some terrific sunrise/sunset photos by the intrepid local photographers I follow on social media, who always manage to come up with these incredibly beautiful shots of the city. But it’s murder on my eyes and my sinuses–neither of which need much assistance in making me miserable.

I was a bit on the tired side when I got home. I went to get the mail and pick up a library book (about the Red Scare of the 1950’s, so it’s research), and by the time I got home and fed Sparky I needed to sit down for a bit, and I even dozed off. Paul came home later and we watched another Department Q and the most recent Murderbot, and then I tried to do some chores before going to bed later than I usually do. I didn’t read anything, either. Gotta get back on that horse soon. I did work on the writing a bit last night, reviewing some things for revision and making notes. Maybe I’ll actually write-write this weekend. I do want to get some short stories written, and I don’t have many errands to do–but I do need to clean this house for sure. Sheesh. And of course LSU plays in the super regional this weekend, so I’ll have that on while I do things (read, most likely).

But yesterday was another good and efficient day for me at work, which was nice. I got all my Admin work caught up that I have to do at the office, and here’s hoping I can get caught up on all my Remote Admin work today; we do have meetings this morning, and I also have some on-line trainings to do that are required to be done every year. I know all the answers because I’ve done them now every year for ten years, but the refresher is not a bad thing at all, and it also works as a test of my memory–which has not been the greatest in quite some time. Heavy heaving sigh. It’s a bitch getting older, even if I am feeling better every day. The getting up early, thanks to the Sparky-alarm, isn’t my favorite thing, either, but I am not groggy and sleepy in the mornings since I have time to eat breakfast and drink more coffee before I leave the house; and yes, I am very glad that my coffee tastes good to me again. I do enjoy my little breakfast at home, and other than my being sleepy earlier in the evening (I was asleep in my chair when Paul got home tonight), it’s not the worst development in my life by a long shot.

And on that note, my toast has popped up in the toaster, one piece crying out for peanut butter, the other for strawberry jelly (what is the difference between jelly and jam? They didn’t have preserves, which is what I actually wanted), and so I am going to bring this to a close, take a breakfast break, and then head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning with a full report. (I think we’re going to Costco later on this afternoon, too.)

I’ve never been sure why I’ve always been interested in abandoned places, but they’ve always stirred my imagination.

Call It What They Want

Thursday morning and my Sparky alarm-cat has me up before six! It’s fine, I was tired and sleepy last night so went to bed around nine, and I slept really well, too. The coffee is hitting the spot this morning, and I’ve already had some breakfast. I am now back up over 190, and my face isn’t gaunt, skeletal and frightening to see in the morning mirror anymore. Tomorrow is of course Remote Friday, and then it’s the weekend, huzzah! I am hoping to finish a newsletter today, too.

I was saddened to hear the news about Edmund White yesterday. It seems like our queer literary icons are all dying now, doesn’t it? Dorothy, Felice, Victoria, and now Ed. I didn’t know Ed very well–well enough to call him Ed, I suppose–but every interaction we ever had was pleasant, and he was always kind to me. I saw a lot of people talking about A Boy’s Own Story yesterday, but my favorite of his works that I’ve read will always be The Farewell Symphony. I fell way behind on his work over the years, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate him for his talent and what he has done and meant to queer literature over the last fifty or so years. My condolences to his husband, Michael Carroll, and all his friends and family who are grieving.

I also realized last night that we are losing that last generation of gay writers whose careers straddled HIV/AIDS; those that were publishing before, during and after. That’s some history being lost, but most of Ed’s books were autobiographical novels, so that history is still there. As I get older, I am also beginning to understand the drive to write memoirs.a It’s gay history that doesn’t otherwise get recorded, and we need to leave records behind of what it was like to be gay during our lifetimes and the changes, both good and bad, that we’ve witnessed.

I did some chores–not enough, of course–when I got home from work yesterday, but I was pretty tired from the day. I usually have a second person working with me in clinic, but she was out sick yesterday so I did it all by myself. I also stayed on top of my Admin work and was highly efficient, if extremely tired, when it was time to make groceries and come home. I unloaded the dishwasher and finished the laundry (there’s still another load to put in the dishwasher), and we watched another episode of Department Q, which we are really enjoying.

I was worried last night, as I dozed off in my easy chair, that I may have overdone it yesterday and would be worn out this morning, but since I am up earlier than my norm I am going to have to assume that I am not, in fact, worn out. The thing is I have to keep pushing myself to do more and be more active rather than being the slug that I prefer to be; because that first time might exhaust me, but the second time it doesn’t.

In other interesting kids’ series news, Random House is rereleasing the Trixie Belden series with new covers and using old illustrations from previous editions. I don’t know if they are going to do the entire series or not, but so far the first four (The Secret of the Mansion, The Red Trailer Mystery, The Gatehouse Mystery, and The Mysterious Visitor) are out in the wild now. I’m debating whether or not to get the new editions–it’s just more clutter for the house, actually–but it might be fun to revisit them, and I don’t know where my copies are. I always preferred Trixie to Nancy Drew, but Nancy was ubiquitous you were always more likely to find those while Trixies were harder to find. (They were also a lot cheaper–I was getting the ones referred to by collectors as “Whitman uglies” because the covers were bad–I didn’t think so, but I am not a Trixie expert.)

I was too foggy and tired last night to either write or read, so hopefully that will be different tonight.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Not sure how I feel about these new covers, but Trixie and Honey look age-appropriate at least!

Getaway Car

Wednesday Pay-the-Bills Day has rolled around yet again, and the week is half-over, huzzah! It’s all a downhill slide into the weekend now–wishing my life away again, as Mom always used to say–but can I help it if I enjoy my days off and look forward to them? Surely I am not alone in this, and I say this as someone who actually enjoys his job and what he does for a living (and health insurance).

Speaking of insurance, my nurse from Louisiana Blue (Blue Cross/Blue Shield) called me yesterday morning to see how I was doing and to check in about my treatment and care, which is really nice and again emphasized to me how serious this condition I have actually is. I was pleased to report that I feel better, am hungry all the time, and have gained back some weight, which is great. I am also glad she didn’t call Monday, when I was so tired and low energy…I suspect my answers and my enthusiasm wouldn’t have come across over the phone Monday.

I also finally got a first draft of a guest blog written that I should have finished back right after Saints and Sinners–but got sick. I’ve been writing my Pride posts for the newsletter, and one of them triggered an idea for how to write the guest blog, so I free-formed it and sent it to the blog host for input and feedback. (It also gave me an idea for another book, because of course it did–No Way Out, only the sex worker is gay which will be a big Washington scandal, would it not, with his Capital Hill clientele–because I need more ideas, don’t I?) I also spent some time with fiction last night after I got home from work, but my mind was a bit foggy so am not entirely sure if the work I did was any good or not, but…I wrote some fiction at long last!!!!

Huzzah!!!

After that, though, I was very mentally drained and felt tired. I made dinner for us, and then just settled in to relax for the few hours of the evening allotted to being awake before retiring early in preparation for today. I do feel better, every day–even tired and listless the other day wasn’t as bad as it used to be, so even that is getting better than it was. I’m trying not to overdo it, but at the same time I am rather chomping at the bit trying to get back into doing things and acting like I’ve completely recovered. I am not, and I need to remember that going forward when I am itching to do something which is pushing it–like pushing myself to write and do chores when I am already tired from everything I’ve always done; and I think Monday was actually a result of me doing too much over the weekend, honestly. So, I need to take that lesson and remember it the next time I am feeling ambitious. Just read something. I did spend some time with The Dark on the Other Side last evening, which has me in a Gothic mood, and I think Summerhouse might also be Gothic in tone; I do know The Mystery of the Haunted Mine is actually a Western treasure hunt set in Arizona. (And it was one of my favorite books as a kid.)

I also realized I don’t have to do a Pride newsletter every day for the month. That’s a lot of pressure on me to produce while at the same time writing this every day, and I kind of need to save some of my writing mojo for my fiction–even if it’s just thinking and taking notes. The newsletter was supposed to be different from the blog in that it wasn’t daily; I was even limiting it to once a week for a while there–as I said, even I get tired of my voice sometimes, let alone dropping into people’s inboxes who have other things to do. This meant another difference between it and the blog; the blog is stream of consciousness whatever I’m thinking about while I wake up over coffee and breakfast every morning (I am having Honey-nut Cheerios, a piece of toast with peanut butter and a second with strawberry belly–I prefer preserves and will remember that the next time I get some–and a slice of marble coffee cake); the newsletter had no pub dates, so to speak, so I could spend more time with those essays and go far more in depth than I can here, so why am I killing myself trying to send one every day? Am I no different from corporations, marginalizing queer culture and life and only examining it during Pride Month and then ignoring it? No, I don’t think so. I read queer books all year, absorb queer art, and think about my queer future in a country double-downing on its vicious homophobia. Everything I write, no matter what it is, is framed through my gay gaze; I am intrinsically queer and that impacts my art, no matter what I am creating.

And I also think, since oppression is so intersectional, I can talk about anything that falls under that umbrella, because I had to unlearn so much over the course of my adult life, and I am incredibly lucky to have so many kind friends who didn’t mind teaching me how to think in a more macro kind of way–every lesson unlearned was a revelation and gave me a new perspective on how to see the world, and how wrong the way I used to see it was. I’m not perfect, by any means, and I learn every day while acknowledging the possibility I still have bad things I was taught yet have not unpacked.

But I went to bed early–I was falling asleep in my chair after watching one episode of Department Q, which we are loving–and slept super well. I feel good this morning, awake and rested, which is very odd for a Wednesday, but it is very pleasing in our eyes.

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

I love these old dirt country roads, and the Spanish moss just makes it look even cooler. The image is very evocative, and I am already thinking of a story inspired by the picture.

Gorgeous

Well, yesterday was a disruption from the usual routine, wasn’t it?

The water was out at the office, as I may have mentioned as an addendum yesterday, so we couldn’t see patients and we all got an unexpected remote day. I hadn’t slept well Sunday night, so I was a bit tired and not a bit sorry to work from home, shamefully. I did get some work done, and I also loaded the dishwasher and got that chore finished. I also cleaned out the refrigerator, got rid of some old things close to turning, and reorganized it in there. I was still tired for most of the evening, but am pretty pleased with what I did manage to get done.

I hate starting out the week tired like that. I also was, I think, in calorie deficit and hadn’t brought near enough food to work to stave that off because I was starving when I got home. I stopped on the way home to get peanut butter and Creole tomatoes (they are sooooo good; I love Creole tomato season), and made a massive gyro when I got home. And was hungry for dinner, later, too. I can’t remember eating this much, ever, in my life before. And since I have disordered eating habits1, I do worry about eating so much and trying to gain weight, since it has been antithetical to my mental state and self-image of you need to lose some weight for so fucking long.

It’s very weird to be in my mid-sixties, yet still thinking about my disordered eating and body image issues. I used to think when I got older that would all go away. But it really didn’t, did it? I slowed down and did gain weight, of course, between fifty and sixty, and wondered if that was it, you know? But it would rear its ugly head in bad eating habits again, always. Conferences are dangerous for me because I will literally forget to eat–although I am doing better about that (he says, despite falling into the worst illness of his life after his last conference–but they were not related, much as I thought they might be; the dehydration and exhaustion exacerbated the UC).

But I did sleep well last night and feel good this morning. LSU managed to come back from the 5-1 deficit they faced after the second inning to win 10-6 (GEAUX TIGERS!) and now it’s on the Super Regional to see if they make it to Omaha and the World Series. How exciting and fun for them! Thanks, boys! A few more weeks of baseball are in the offing, which is always fun.

I did actually get some writing work done last night, too–not actual writing per se, but prep work. I also did some thinking about other stories and projects that I am currently working on, which was very cool, and I started reading Summerhouse, which was a very pleasant surprise, as the main characters are older and have been together for forty years; the book opens on their fortieth anniversary, and it’s kind of interesting read. (I’ve been thinking about writing about older characters since reading Laura Lippman’s Murder Takes a Vacation, and so that’d been on my mind.) I’ve not gotten very far into it, but will read some more of it tonight when I get home, as well as advancing in both The Dark on the Other Side and Mystery of the Haunted Mine.

And maybe–just maybe–I can get some actual writing done. I almost finished today’s Pride newsletter last night; I need to look it over and make changes and write probably another paragraph or two.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Happy Tuesday everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow or perhaps later. No one knows.

The gorgeous Steve Reeves, mid-twentieth century bodybuilding champion and star of Italian muscle movies.
  1. Not the same thing as an eating disorder; disordered eating is simply a bad relationship with food and eating, which I have had my entire life–there will be more about this to come. ↩︎

Dancing with Our Hands Tied

Yesterday was a decent day. I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked, but I did get the first Pride newsletter out, as well as my review of Murder Takes a Vacation, as well as my future newsletters about James Bond and Vicky Barr. I had groceries delivered, did some chores, but only started my rereads of The Dark on the Other Side by Barbara Michaels and The Mystery of the Haunted Mine, but didn’t crack the spine on Summerhouse. I did feel a trifle tired mentally and physically, so basically just took it easy for the rest of the day. I slept well last night, which felt great, and I am curious to see what this week will bring.

I also remembered an old short story that I couldn’t get to work–the premise was just really “no one could ever be that fucking stupid”–but now? Now I have a much better idea for said premise, because it happens all the time. I am interested in pursuing that story, because the dynamic between the two main characters is something I did enjoy writing, but…like I said, the premise that led to their meeting was kind of too stupid to believe, but technology has advanced enough now that the ‘on-line accident’ is believable now.1

I watched television for most of the day. We finished both The Better Sister (superb, highly recommend) and Big Mouth, which is now over for good, and we’ll need to find something else to watch. We started something called Adults, but after two episodes I am not sold on it. I also had the LSU game on in the evening, while I finished some chores so the Lost Apartment wasn’t a complete disaster area this morning when I came down for coffee, toast, and cereal. (All I have to do is load the dishwasher and turn it on tonight and I’ll be all set.)

I am hoping to get back to writing fiction this week. I want to finish this one short story and then look at some submission calls I’ve bookmarked. I am kind of excited about writing again, and I really need to be getting back to it. As I said, the ideas and creativity are running rampant in my head, and I really need to get those muscles back into shape so I can get back to actually writing my ideas up. The will is there, of course, the question is whether or not my brain and typing fingers will cooperate.

I guess we’ll see.

Well, we get sent home from the office before I could post this; we don’t have water–and without water we can’t operate or see clients (not to mention the bathroom situation) so I get to work at home the rest of this low-energy day, so let’s see how it goes, shall we?

I’ll be back on the morrow….thanks as always for stopping by.

Italian ballerino Roberto Bolle
  1. I do find it interesting that something that would have been so stupid of a mistake to make with technology eight years ago could easily happen today; isn’t that sort of thing supposed to become harder with more tech advances? One would think, at any rate, and it does make you wonder about these “tech geniuses”, doesn’t it? ↩︎

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

It’s Sunday, which means it’s June, so HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, everyone! Woo-hoo! (Cue the bigots and homophobes: why do they get a whole month when the military doesn’t? Sorry you don’t care enough about the actual military, self-styled “patriots,” to know when Military Appreciation Month is–read a fucking book sometime, okay?)

And by the way, assholes, if y’all didn’t come at us with shame all the fucking time, we wouldn’t need Pride in the first place–and remember, the first one was a riot.

My alarm Sparky let me sleep until just after six this morning, which is actually fine. My new sleep patterns had me awake before he started purring and poking at me; I was actually wondering where he was when I woke up, but I wait until he comes to get me up. Yesterday was a lovely, relaxing day for the most part. I finished reading all three of my books (!), which was delightful (enjoyed them all, too) but created a dilemma for me: I wanted to write newsletters about each book, but does anyone really want to get three newsletters from me in one day, especially when it’s Pride Month and I had intended to spend the month writing about being gay in America, and my sordid gay past? That would be four newsletters in one day, were I to do that, so I am on the horns of a dilemma1 this morning. I think I’ll write them all up and save the extras as drafts for later. I do highly recommend Murder Takes a Vacation by Laura Lippman, and I really enjoyed revisiting Moonraker.

And I plan on writing about all the kids’ series I enjoyed as a kid, so the Vicki Barr entry can be saved for later.

I did some chores yesterday, and was actually writing my newsletter about the new Lippman when our power went out yesterday afternoon. Only for an hour, unlike those poor people who went without for over twenty-four hours the weekend before, and I don’t know what caused it–it was a beautiful sunny yet cool day yesterday here in New Orleans–but I used that time to finish the Vicki Barr and barbecue dinner. Ironically, when I brought the hamburgers in when they were finished, the power came back. I watched some of the French Open, we watched this week’s Murderbot, the season finale of Hacks, and then binged some more of The Better Sister, which is superb. We’ll most likely finish that tonight.

I had already decided to bump queer writers and books up the TBR pile for Pride Month2, so my next new-to-me read is going to be Summerhouse, which Kristopher Zgorski recommended on his blog. My next reread will be The Dark on the Other Side by Barbara Michaels, and my next kid’s mystery reread will by The Mystery of the Haunted Mine, which has remained one of my favorite books from when I was a kid, and I got my copy from the Scholastic Book Fair; amazing that I still have it despite all the moves since then, right?

I feel very rested and relaxed this morning. I am still getting stronger (and more mentally back together) every day, which is terrific; My legs still tire easily, but that just means I need to exercise and walk more. I did doze off in my easy chair for about an hour yesterday–getting up early every day does that to me sometimes–but I also got some chores done, and have more to do today if I don’t get lazy. I have to run make some groceries later this morning–better to do it today than on the way home from work tomorrow, right? It’s so much easier to take I-10 home from work, even if the ramp to 90 and the west bank backs up; it’s still easier than navigating through Tremé and the CBD.

I also watched LSU’s baseball game last night against Dallas Baptist before going to bed, certain they would win, and they did; they are in the regional championship today. GEAUX TIGERS!

I’m still feeling good about things overall, too, which is definitely a good thing. I’ve got my to-do list (some things are ready to be scratched off) to work through, as well as these chores to finish up, so I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning–keep an eye out for the newsletter, too!

The courtyard of Madame John’s Legacy in the French Quarter
  1. Which also begs the question of what should I make my newsletter thematically in the first place? Do I even need a theme? This is what happens when I stop to think about things, you know, which is why I try not to ever stop to think about things. ↩︎
  2. Making me just as bad as cishet readers, right? “I only read queer books during Pride.” Ah, well, something else for me to deconstruct, right? ↩︎

Delicate

Saturday in the Lost Apartment and all is well. I slept incredibly well last night, and feel energized and rested this morning. I am up at six again this morning, thanks to my alarm cat, but I don’t mind in the least. I have some chores I left for this morning to do; and I want to spend the day reading, doing chores, and relaxing…and maybe, just maybe, writing some more. #Madness, right?

Yesterday I was up before six–so much for sleeping in, but my body clock was clearly reset during my illness and I am now a morning person for the first time in my life–so I did some chores and even some writing (!!!) before it was time for me to start Remote work for the day. When I finished with work, I ran some errands–had to have bloodwork done again, made groceries, picked up the mail and a prescription–and relaxed a bit before going to dinner with a very dear friend. I didn’t get many chores done around the house other than laundry and a load of dishes; but I even wrote more on that short story that’s proving to be harder to write than I thought it would be. There are several short story calls I have bookmarked that I would like to try to write something for. Yes, I am feeling a bit more ambitious, and am also thinking a lot more clearly. There’s still fog in my brain sometimes, and there are times when my attention span is all over the place, but I also feel like when I am clear-headed, I am thinking a lot more practically, confidently, ambitiously, and pragmatically, which is the best mental space to be in to reflect on yourself, where you are in your life, and what you want this inevitable third act of your life to be like. I am making plans again…and while life has a way of throwing a monkey wrench into plans at the worst possible time with the plans having to be completely discarded entirely sometimes and replanned all over again, but it helps me feel like I have some control over my life and my career and everything that goes along with that.

And I do like feeling like I have some control over my life, you know?

I need to get back to writing, but I am being patient and letting my brain and my body dictate what I do every day. There are days when my job takes all my energy and all my brainpower. So be it, you need to rest when you get home–if you’re not too tired to focus you can read, and of course, there’s always something to watch on television. (I am itching to finish bingeing The Better Sister, for example.)

I had dinner with a dear friend of several decades standing last night at a delightful restaurant on Magazine Street that we go to whenever we dine together, Lilette. I even had a solitary cocktail, the Lilette Rouge, which was delicious, and I do recommend the Kobe burger with cheese; it’s mouth-watering good. The conversation was wonderful, and I kept thinking to myself all evening about how lucky I am. I do have the most amazing friends–smart and talented and witty and fun to be around. I am tired of drama and want no part of that anymore–sort yourself out, thanks, but I won’t be a part of that process. Even the three friends that I lost recently; my God, they were Dorothy Allison and Felice Picano and Victoria A. Brownworth–queer writing icons. It’s so very easy to get down about my life, especially when I’m not feeling well (I was so morose when I was so sick and in the hospital; it was why I wasn’t really responding to anyone or posting–so much maudlin self-pity about how everything sucked!!!), but the truth is I’ve had quite a marvelous second act, which made the horrors of the first act so worth experiencing and living through. Every dream I had as that lonely terrified gay kid with no friends that was bullied and shamed daily, has come true for me. No one can ever take away the writing I’ve published, the awards I was short-listed for, or anything I’ve ever accomplished in my publishing career. I got my first by-line in 1996, in Minneapolis, and from there I built a haphazard, all over the map, hard to define career that has given me endless amounts of satisfaction, pride, and joy for the last almost thirty years (yes, in January of next year I will mark my thirtieth year as a published writer! It’s been an interesting journey).

And yet my first college creative writing professor told me I would never publish anything, ever.

But yes, dinner was lovely. I should make plans and do things with people more often–when I’ve gotten my strength back. I’ve increasingly isolated myself since the pandemic; I think I went into hermit mode during the shutdown and never really emerged from it. I also had dehydration sickness that first summer of COVID, before vaccinations; and somehow managed to stave off COVID itself until the summer of 2022, and I’m still not sure I ever completely recovered from that before the next thing, which was my arm injury, the ten month wait for the surgery. And then Mom died, and I had the oral surgeries before the arm surgery, and then I was in rehab/PT for the arm, trying to recover from that trauma, and I think I just burnt out from everything, because I was also still writing on top of all of that. In a way, this sickness and physical/mental collapse was necessary, for me to get some rest and recuperate and stop focusing on being miserable all the time because I’m not and have no reason to be, and remember to keep seeing things as challenges to best rather than something else I need to do.

See what having dinner with a beloved friend who is just a radiant flame of positive energy can do for me? It’s wonderful to have friends who make you feel like you can do anything, and I actually have a lot of those in my life.

Like I said, I need to keep reminding myself to focus on how fucking lucky I am and what a truly lovely life I lead. I get to write, you know? I love writing. I love creating and making new characters and inventing places and coming up with the inevitable story from who those characters actually are and behave is my favorite thing to do, and I also love to challenge myself when I am writing. This little story I am working on–for which there is no market that I am aware of–is really about faith, and how far someone who considers herself devout will step outside of that when presented with a horrible situation; but I have to make sure that, morally challenged as she may be, why she makes the choices she does. It’s been slow going so far, but if I pull it off, “The Witch Bottle” will be a good story. See? This is what I love. I commented the other day that I seem to be having better luck writing the blog and the newsletter rather than fiction lately, but I’m having some very good ideas, and I do think my next revision of Hurricane Season Hustle will turn it into quite a fine piece of work.

I really can’t wait to get back to writing fiction again.

Damn. I am so fucking lucky.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll most likely be back tomorrow morning.

A marvelous panel I was on (see? Lucky!) at Minneapolis Bouchercon the morning after the airline lost my suitcase. Attica Locke, Karen Dionne, me in the back, Edwin Hill, David Heska Wanbli Weiden and Nancy Johnson. My imposter syndrome was off the charts that day!

Don’t Blame Me

I wasn’t the one who came up with TACO Trade, but I am totally here for it.

I also love tacos, so there’s that, too. Who doesn’t love a good taco, really?

I’ve been trying to decide how to handle Pride Month posts this year, since June is just around the corner. Last year I wrote some newsletters about “my gay life”, and I think I may have done some on this blog, too. I’m not really sure how I want to handle it this year, to be honest. I can write about being queer and how that has impacted my life until the cows come home, of course–ultimately, I think being queer in a homophobic society has made me a stronger and better person, capable of empathy and being concerned about others in ways I probably wouldn’t be had I been born a cishet white man–and I can talk about queer art and culture and representation, or I could write some scenes from my gay life; experiences I’ve had and so forth. But I also kind of want my theme for the month to be more positive than negative; it gets so tiring reliving homophobic experiences and talking about inbred assholes…but I also know that, inevitably, there will be posts that are angry and negative about oppression we all face, not just queers.

Sigh.

It’s Remote Friday and I have things to do around here; on-line trainings and quality assurance paperwork and some data entry. Later on I have some errands–bloodwork, mail, grocery store, and a prescription, and I am also having dinner with a friend tonight as well. Busy Friday for one Gregalicious, and I’d like to do some of the chores today too so I can spend tomorrow focused on reading, writing, and organizing; I want to work on a short story or two this weekend, reread what I have written on the Scotty so far, and revise some other things, all while resting and relaxing. Yesterday was a nice day, really; there were some marvelous thunderstorms and I was able to get a lot done at the office, which is always a major plus. I was a bit tired when I got home, but finished the chores I didn’t do the night before so when I came downstairs this morning it was to a clean and neat kitchen. Huzzah! I just need to remember to not drink too much coffee this morning and become jittery–my caffeine tolerance is not what it was before I got sick, and that’s really not a terrible thing, in all honesty. I’m also feeling better–I’m walking better and not getting quite so fatigued as I was last week, which is definitely a good thing–and sleeping better, but trying very hard not to get impatient and rush things. My weight seems to have stabilized at 191-192, which is actually a good weight for my height and frame; I just need to trim some from the middle and add some everywhere else. But I have to get my strength back before I head back into the gym and slowly work my way back into better shape and conditioning. It won’t be easy because I am older, have lost muscle mass, and some bone density…patience has never been my strength.

But I am getting better with it, and it’s nice to not feel so fucking fatigued all the time.

I even made a to-do list for the weekend! Look at me, getting all organized again! As much as I hate to think about it, getting so sick forced a reboot on me, and I am actually better for it? In retrospect, it wasn’t such a bad thing, despite how much I suffered through it. Weird, isn’t it?

I also checked my drafts of the newsletters (and the blog) and I think I have enough stuff to finish and post for Pride Month, and yes, some of it is going to be angry. Sorry, you want to persecute me and people like me? Yeah, I’m going to get pissed off, especially given the extent of mediocrity we always have to suffer from cishet white people. Mediocre. Louder for the ones in the back! MEDI-FUCKING-OCRE.

But I don’t care.

We also started the TV series based on Alafair Burke’s The Better Sister, and it’s excellent.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope your Friday is as lovely as you are, Constant Reader, and I may be back later. One never can be sure!

Me with Wendy Corsi Staub in the hotel club room at Toronto Bouchercon: “Wendy, fetch me some wine!” Also, photobombed by Ellen Claire Lamb!