Category: writing

Hello

When I was cleaning out/working in my storage unit a few weeks ago, I uncovered the only surviving copies of two anthologies I edited pre-Katrina: Shadows of the Night (horror) and Upon a Midnight Clear (gay Christmas tales). I picked them up Saturday night during the Alabama-LSU game and paged through them, and laughed as I realized I’d published a story of my own in each anthology, but being afraid of being accused of ‘self-publishing’, I used a pseudonym. The pseudonym was one I was going to use for writing horror, and the name I chose makes me laugh really hard: Quentin Harrington. Quentin came from the old show Dark Shadows, and “Harrington” was a variation of my last name that, sometimes but not very often, people used to actually think was my name (along with Harris, Herron, Heron, Huron, Aaron, etc.).

The stories, which I’d completely forgotten about, were “The Troll in the Basement” and “The Snow Queen.”

The books have been out of print for about ten years now, and Shadows was actually a Lambda Literary Award finalist (the first time I was nominated twice in the same year; I was also nominated in the Men’s Mystery category that year for Jackson Square Jazz, and was also the first time for me to lose twice in the same year). Shadows was inspired by two thoughts: one, how much I enjoyed Michael Rowe’s two Queer Fear anthologies, and by knowing how many writer friends I had who enjoyed horror but didn’t write it. I thought it would be interesting to get a group of writers who didn’t write horror, and see what they could come up with. I can’t believe I’d forgotten about my own story; which isn’t bad, but isn’t great, either. It had one of those 1950’s EC Comics endings–something I still tend to do, even with crime stories, and is something I need to get away from.

Upon a Midnight Clear was an anthology I’d been wanting to do for a very long time before it came to fruition. I’d always wanted to do an anthology reclaiming Christmas for LGBTQ people; there is so much out there–TV shows, movies, specials, books, etc.–for Christmas but none of it exploring it from the queer outsider’s point of view. I’d gotten a story submitted for another anthology that was Christmas-themed, and didn’t really fit that particular anthology; but it also triggered the why not do a queer Christmas anthology? It could be a perennial seller at Christmas time. And that’s how the anthology was born. I got some terrific stories (of particular note: Jim Grimsley’s “Comfort and Joy,”  David McConnell’s “Christmas 1989,” and “Our Family’s Things” by Jay Quinn–but they were all lovely stories in one way or another) and the book sold a fair amount of copies. My own story was a twist on Han Christian Anderson’s “The Snow Queen,” not an exact rewrite or retelling, but something I took and twisted and made my own. I liked the story a lot, but had completely forgotten I’d written it.

Alas, I only have one author copy of each anthology; someone on Twitter was looking for queer Christmas stories and ‘Nathan Burgoine recommended Midnight Clear,  and if I had even one spare copy I would have sent it to the person looking. But I don’t, and so I can’t part with my copy.

I also was invited to write a story for an anthology yesterday, which was thrilling (it’s always nice to be asked) and the story itself is going to be a challenge to write, which is also thrilling. I do love me a challenge.

I spent most of yesterday cleaning and finishing reading Laura Lippman’s astonishing Sunburn, and started reading Alafair Burke’s The Wife last night. I have a lot of thoughts about the Lippman, just as I do about the Alison Gaylin I finished Saturday night, but will review them and talk more in depth about both books closer to their release dates. I am enjoying Alafair’s book, too, by the way.

And now, back to the spice mines.

Jump

Sunday morning and the end of Daylight Savings Time. I woke up at the usual time, reset the clock to the correct time, and stayed in bed for another hour…but still got up early. It’s fine, I don’t mind, and I am actually awake rather than groggy. I need to get groceries–a minor run for some staples and a few things I need for dinner tonight–and I also need to get to the gym today. (I did not, in fact, go yesterday as planned.) I also managed to destroy my ancient iPod Nano. I took it out of my car (where it’s my music source) and put it in my jeans pocket Friday so I could take it with me to the gym, forgot about it, and yes, put it through both washer and dryer. Sigh. Now the screen is dead–the memory in it still works, if I connect it to my computer–but the controls don’t work, and they don’t make Nanos anymore, which totally sucks. I had that damned thing for almost seven years…so I guess I’ll have to use my iPod Touch, which is nine years old, for the gym instead until I can swing getting a new one, I suppose. So annoying. Then again, if it costs less than a new iPod Touch, it might be worth seeing if it can be fixed.

I suppose I could just use my phone, I suppose, but I hate how the music cuts off if you get an email or a text or something. It’s jarring.

First world problems, I know.

I am reading an advance copy of Laura Lippman’s Sunburn, and it’s really quite exceptional. It’s very different than anything she’s done before, and I have to say, it’s quite the ballsy move. It’s very easy to just write the same style and the same type of book over and over again, but Lippman has really stretched herself and grown in her stand alone novels; this, coming after the sublime Wilde Lake, is yet another gamble that is paying off big time. And as I said yesterday, reading amazing work by amazing writers is inspirational; I actually sat down at the computer yesterday and made myself write two thousand words; and they were good words. They took me longer to write than usual–my attention span is so shortened because of social media and everything else these days; I need to remember that the best thing for me to do when I get stuck is to get up and do something away from the computer; even if it is something as simple as rearranging a cabinet shelf; putting things in order and organizing, for some reason, always works as a writing trigger for me. But it’s more than I’ve written in a long time, and I am kind of excited about it, to be honest. I still have an essay to write, and there’s a short story I need to write, but I want to get some more of this Scotty done before I sidetrack myself again.

And on that note, ’tis back to the spice mines. Here’s a Sunday hunk for you, Constant Reader:

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Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)

Saturday morning! I finished reading my advance copy of Alison Gaylin’s If I Die Tonight last evening, and was completely blown away by it–so much so that I tried to start reading something else and just had to put it aside for a while. I read my next book for a bit in bed before going to sleep–it’s an advance copy of Laura Lippman’s Sunburn, and it, too, is quite extraordinary–and this morning am still processing both. I’ll no doubt finish Sunburn this weekend as well–I am already itching to get back to it, although I have other things I simply must do this morning–but the kitchen is already cleaned up. I need to do the floors and put some finishing touches on things down here, and I might clean the windows. I have an essay to finish writing and I want to work on the Scotty book some; possibly some other things as well. It would be incredibly easy to sit in my easy chair and waste the day watching college football…but I’m not going to. Tonight is the LSU-Alabama game…sigh. Obviously, I want LSU to win, but it’s such a long shot, and Alabama just looks unstoppable this year. Sigh.

While work on the new Scotty has been incredibly slow going, part of that is attributable to the post-Bouchercon malaise, methinks. I feel very confident that I’m going to be able to get back to work on it today and make significant progress. I know what the underlying theme of the book is, and now it’s simply a question of being able to work the personal story and the crime story together and make it work. Rereading these old Scotty has helped; putting together the Scotty concordance/Bible is also going to help in ways I can’t even imagine right now.

Reading brilliantly written books also helps a lot. I can’t recommend reading great writers enough as a learning experience for writers. I always say that the best writers inspire me when I read their work; I think part of the reason I’m so fired up this morning to get to work is because I read a brilliant novel last night and started reading another one before bed…and have even more on deck that I know are going to be equally brilliant. This excites me to NO end, Constant Reader.

I also want to revise that old y/a manuscript and get it going. I know now, having both reread and outlined it, what was wrong with it and why it didn’t work. I am very excited about this, as well.

It’s been a while since I’ve been excited about writing, and it feels terrific.

And now, I should get  back to the spice mines. Here’s a Saturday hunk for you, Constant Reader.

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Footloose

Friday! Huzzah!

I am very pleased to say that I think the malaise has passed. Yesterday I shook myself up a little bit and got organized. I’ve really been letting a lot of things slide–I’ve been blaming the post-Bouchercon blues, but truly, the malaise had set in well before that. I’m not sure what causes it; but it’s horrible when it strikes and I find myself getting depressed rather easily when it strikes…trying to work and/or get things done, but allowing myself to be easily overwhelmed, or if the work isn’t going well, letting the why do I bother mentality kick in.

But I’m back in my “I can conquer the world” mode again, and intend to ride that train as long as I can.

Before bed last night, after watching Riverdale and American Horror Story, I did two loads of laundry, the dishes, a shit-ton of filing, cleaned my kitchen counters, and started organizing the copies of my books I got from storage. (I still haven’t located the copies of Mardi Gras Mambo I’ve been looking for, which means I am going to have to go back again; but I am going to let that sit for a few weeks. There’s no urgency to find them, after all.)

I also, while cleaning and organizing, had some breakthroughs on projects I am working on; which is one of the reasons cleaning and organizing is such an important part of my process–when I am busy doing something that doesn’t require my full attention, my mind wanders and it always goes to places with book projects that need fixing. And am absolutely delighted this has happened. I made some decent progress on the Scotty book yesterday, and will be making some crucial notes on another project this morning, now that I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep.

And on that note, it is back to the spice mines with me.

Here’s a hunk for you, Rafael Nadal for Armani:

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Say Say Say

I’ve started reading Alison Gaylin’s If I Die Tonight this week; I have an advance copy and OH MY GOD IT IS SO GOOD. I also have advance copies of some other new books by some amazing women writers that I can’t wait to start reading as well. Huzzah!

This week has felt a bit off; which probably has to do with Halloween being on a Tuesday. Yesterday felt more like a Monday than a Wednesday, and today feels sort of Tuesday-ish. I’ve been off my game since Bouchercon, frankly, and am hoping to use this weekend to right the ship and get everything going again. I have managed to get most of my to-do list (the short one, not the over-all one) finished this week already, but I haven’t done much editing or writing or revising. That must change. I also intend to get to the gym again this weekend, but this time I mean it. I overdid it making groceries last weekend, so I don’t have to do that this weekend–and really, running the errands is what always ends any attempt at getting to the gym for me.

I am also very aware that’s an excuse, thank you very much, and I don’t need any reminding.

But the gym–and my writing–have been put off for far too long. I’m starting to come out of the malaise I’ve been in for quite some time, as well. I was looking at Chapter Two of the new Scotty yesterday and while yes, it needs revision and rewriting, how to do it actually started coming into my mind. Those muscles are there, just rusty…like my actual muscles. Cardio, better eating habits, and some weight lifting are the ticket. And I’m sleeping better as well.

Stop making excuses, Gregalicious!

And on that note, tis back to the spice mines with me. Here’s a Throwback Thursday hunk for you:

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When Doves Cry

We finished watching Stranger Things last night, and were sorry to see it end; it was quite a lot of fun, and Episode 8 was a non-stop adrenaline rush from beginning to end. The last thirty minutes of the season was absolutely charming; those kids are just so damned appealing, and Winona Ryder was much better in this season than she was in the first. I also got much further along in Hell House; I should finish it today to end my official month of Halloween Horror reading. Some great crime novels have stacked up while I devoted myself to horror this month; can’t wait to start digging into crime again.

I finished outlining Jackson Square Jazz last night, and am going to start work on the Scotty concordance/Bible this week while I also work on Crescent City Charade. I’m still not completely sold on that title, let me say that right now; it’s very likely going to change before I turn it into the publisher. It’s been fun rereading (or rather, skimming) Jackson Square Jazz preparatory for doing the outline; I feel much more connected to Scotty than I was. The amazing thing to me is how many continuity mistakes I’ve made over the years. The lovely thing is that I can now go back to the original books and fix the errors–there’s nothing i can do about them in the later books. In fairness to myself, I don’t really remember much of anything I wrote pre-Katrina, but I could have–should have–gone back and reread the originals, and the Bible/concordance is way overdue.

It’s also amazing how much I did forget. The plot of Jackson Square Jazz was almost a complete mystery to me, and it was a much better book and story than I remembered it being. Ah, memory is such a strange thing, isn’t it?

I really do need to be better organized. The kitchen is a mess this morning, and I need to make another to-do list. I’ve got some laundry going and I need to do the dishes and make chili for the crockpot to cook all day. And on that note, it’s back to the spice mines.

Here’s a Halloween hunk for you:

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Fall in Love with Me

A chilly Monday morning in New Orleans. I am arming myself with coffee and a thorough to-do list to get me through the week. I am confident both will hold me in good stead.

We’re binging Stranger Things, and after a slow first couple of episodes, it certainly has picked up steam. We were both regretful we had to turn it off last night in order to go to bed; if we didn’t have to work this morning we would have stayed up and finished it off. But there’s always tonight. (rubs hands together in glee).

I’m also about halfway through Hell House, which is holding up beautifully. I am again amazed at how similar, both in title and structure, the book is to The Haunting of Hill House, The tone and voice are completely different, of course; Hell House actually goes into the POV of all of the characters at one time or another, whereas Jackson focused primarily on Eleanor. And Hell House is definitely more haunted than Hill House; it’s called ‘the Mount Everest of haunted houses’–and the house has a much more infernal history than Hill House’s softer, more Gothic history of madness and death. There are times, too, when Hell House’s backstory seems almost over-the-top; yet at the same time, I can’t help but think wow, a book about everything that went on back then would be fascinating. It’s very definitely both a haunted house book and a “bad place” book.I do remember how it ended, I just don’t remember how Matheson gets the reader there. Definitely enjoying the ride thus far.

This morning I also had a breakthrough on a short story I’ve put aside. The question is, can I finish it and polish it in time for the looming deadline? I think so.

Okay, it’s time to get back to the spice mines. Here’s a hunk to get your week rolling:

 

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Breaking Us in Two

Sunday. It’s one degree warmer than yesterday morning–wow, right? But you will undoubtedly be thrilled to know that I get everything on my list done yesterday other than go to the gym; and after spending two hours in the storage unit moving boxes of books around, I was pretty damned exhausted physically, and then braved Costco on a Saturday afternoon (it wasn’t bad at all, other than stupid people, which is every day). I also came across some books in the storage that I thought hey, these need to be reread and so I took them out. One of them was Richard Matheson’s Hell House, which seemed, at least to me, to be the proper reread after The Haunting of Hill House, in that they’re very similar; one could even go so far as to say Matheson basically took Jackson’s story structure and turned the dial up a notch. I am enjoying the reread very much; although I’m not very far into it thus far. I also found my copy of Michael Rowe’s groundbreaking anthology Queer Fear, which I reviewed in the Lambda Book Report many years ago when I worked there, and was to be my first encounter with Mr. Rowe; I remember he came up to me at the Lambda Awards the next year, introduced himself, and thanked me for the lovely review. We’ve crossed paths a few times since, and have become friends over the years. I do remember loving Queer Fear, and look forward to delving into it and rereading its short stories again.

I also found my high school scrapbook and my diaries from the 1990’s. I used to buy blank books and carry them around with me everywhere, so I could jot down story and/or book ideas, or write diary entries whenever I wanted to. I am always hesitant to reread my old diaries; I often wince from my immaturity and my over-dramatization of events in my life. Yet at the same time, the diaries also served as a very vital source of self-reflection and self-examination; I suppose this blog has served that purpose since I started it on Livejournal back in 2004 (the idea that I have been consistently blogging for thirteen years rather staggers the mind, doesn’t it? But I’ve been writing in a diary of some sort, off and on, since I was a teenager; this seems to be a natural continuation of that process).

I also found the three ring binder where I kept everything from the Virginia situation of 2005 and 2006; including the ACLU letter to the school board. I’d always intended to write a non-fiction book about it all, called Gay Porn Writer, in which I examined what happened to me in the context, not only of the times but extrapolating it out further into what was going on in publishing and the culture. My memory lies to me now, of course, so I am not certain that I’ll ever write such a book–I don’t know that I would remember things correctly, and even then, what is colored by my perceptions of things. I’ve since moved on, of course–I mentioned the incident in passing on my panel at Bouchercon and had to explain it a little, which was kind of crazy. It was so long ago, and I used to get invited to speak about it all the time. The memories are now hazy and unclear, but I am definitely going to keep all this information.

You never know.

I think I am probably just going to scan everything in the scrapbook, in order to preserve it electronically, and then throw it away. I don’t really need to keep programs from my high school football games, or from choir concerts, and scanning them will better preserve them anyway.

I have one errand to run today, and I also want to go to the gym for a little bit, start dipping my feet back into the water of working out regularly, and despite the cold, I am going to give that a try.

And hopefully, I’ll get some writing done, or at least something done that will move all projects forward.

Here’s a Sunday hunk for you:

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Don’t Cry

Saturday in New Orleans. I have a big to-do list to get through today, and I must get it all done so we can stream season 2 of both Stranger Things and Freakish this weekend, guilt-free. I also want to get some writing/editing/reading done on Sunday before launching into yet another week of work. I also slept late this morning; which felt wonderful–probably because it is a mere fifty two degrees here (AIEEE!) but I feel rested, which is truly the most important thing. I’d wanted to get up earlier, but hey–them are the breaks, kids. So, when I finish this cup of coffee I’ll probably make one to go and start running the errands, so as to get them over and done with. We were going to go see It tonight, but decided to wait and stream things tonight; we can always watch it when it’s available for streaming later.

I did finish my reread of The Haunting of Hill House last night before going to sleep, and as always, it was just a wonderful experience. That final sequence on the tower staircase terrifies me, as it always does; my fear of heights and my fear of spiral staircases no doubt stems from reading this book and seeing the original film, which was fantastic and remains, to this day, one of my top five horror films. (Do NOT under any circumstances watch the horrific, embarrassingly bad remake.) After I finish all my errands today, I am going to dive into End of Watch, which will probably bring my Halloween Horror reading to a close for this year. I am most anxious to dive into some of these books by authors I love (Laura Lippman, Alison Gaylin, Donna Andrews, Alafair Burke, Adam Sternbergh), and then of course there are the books collecting dust for far too long in the TBR pile. I also realized yesterday that I’ve not reread Rebecca this year, but that may wind up being something I tackle over the Thanksgiving holiday season. (I was also thinking last night of the similarities between The Haunting of Hill House and Rebecca last night; which might make for an interesting essay at some point…must make a note of that.)

Heavy heaving sigh.

So much to do, so little time in which to do it.

And on that note, tis off to the spice mines…since I overslept I can’t get more in depth on The Haunting of Hill House  as  I would like to; perhaps later, when the errands are finished.

Here’s a Saturday hunk for you, Constant Reader.

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Tonight, I Celebrate My Love

Thursday. The weekend is nigh, and Paul and I are considering going to see It at long last, as there is no LSU game on Saturday. I also am going to Costco, and want to make it to the gym to do some detestable cardio. But I will also do some stretching, so there’s that. I really need to start getting into a regular habit of going again. I always feels so much better after I work out…you’d think that would be enough motivation to go, you know?

But you would be wrong.

I also am looking forward to getting back into my reread of The Haunting of Hill House, which blows me away on every reread. October is almost over, and so my concentration on just reading horror will come to an end with October 31st; I will go on to End of Watch by Stephen King when I finish this reread, and then I’m going to dig into all the ARCs and advance copies I got at Bouchercon, which is terribly exciting. Laura Lippman, Alison Gaylin, Ivy Pochoda, and Adam Sternburgh! My new Donna Andrews, The Finch Who Stole Christmas, also arrived yesterday, which is terribly exciting. I have a lot of great reading in store.

I worked on revising the new Scotty a bit yesterday, and was terribly pleased to discover that what I’d already written wasn’t, in fact, a steaming pile of crap like I thought it was. Distance does, in fact, help. So I am going to try to get those initial chapters all revised by Sunday before putting it aside again and diving back into the WIP, for it’s last tweaks. I’m feeling a lot better about all of this, to be honest…not sure where this burst of out of nowhere self-confidence has come from, but there you are.

And on that note, ’tis back to the spice mines.

For Throwback Thursday, here’s one of my sluttier Halloween costumes, Gay Beach Volleyball Player.

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