Category: writing

Even the Nights Are Better

I slept in again this morning, and I feel rested and marvelous–if a bit chilly. (And yes, a quick check of the weather shows that it’s in the fifties this morning, and will dip into the forties overnight.) My plan to not leave the house this entire weekend has hit a snag; I do have to go make groceries this morning because there are a few things that are needed, alas and alack. But my coffee is tasting rather marvelous this morning, and as I said, I feel rested and good. Yesterday was a lazy day in which I didn’t do a whole lot of anything, really. I did some cleaning and laundry and put some things away, but mostly worked on cleaning up computer files (it is horrifying how out of control those all are, really) as well as spending quality time with Sparky. We watched both the ice dance and pairs finals yesterday for the US Figure Skating Championships, and binged Lupin in between. I didn’t stay up much later, and went to bed before ten…which makes the oversleeping particularly curious and interesting. But not complaining here at all. Sure, it would have been nice to get up earlier and get more things done this morning, but part of anxiety-free living very much includes not beating myself up over things I can no longer control. I can’t go back in time and get up earlier, so why feel regret or shame over it?

Constant Reader, I may actually be getting healthier mentally–finally.

So, yes, I do have to leave the house this morning–best to do it early and get it out of the way, right? I think I will also go to Mid-city to make the groceries. I like that I am willing to break routines now, and do things differently than the way I always used to. Does that sound odd or crazy? But I fall into ruts quite easily, partly because of my desire to always maximize efficiency and use my time most effectively. I still do this, of course–that will never change, methinks–I always try to plan how to run errands the most efficient way, but I’m not sure it’s necessary anymore. I find myself with time on my hands to waste these days. My inbox is always crammed full with things I have to at the very least acknowledge and read, and I like that very much; I’m always behind on my emails now because I no longer get as many so I no longer feel the need to answer everything immediately. I also don’t feel the urgency to pick up the mail every day the way I used to, either.

So, unless my plans get derailed this morning, my plan is to write this, answer some emails, do some cleaning around here and work on “When I Die” some more before getting cleaned up and heading for the grocery. I had hoped to finish that story and another this weekend, but Paul/Sparky time yesterday proved too much of a distraction and a necessity; Paul and I generally don’t see each other much during these last few months before the festivals, so when the opportunity presents itself, it becomes my priority and I will never apologize for that. I know I’ll watch the men’s final this afternoon, most likely, so I’ll definitely need to get a move on this morning to get everything accomplished that I want to accomplish before the skating starts. I also want to spend some time with Lina’s book, which I am really enjoying and want to carve out some time to enjoy it as well today. I did rearrange and reorganize the books yesterday–it’s amazing what a difference that makes for the appearance of tidiness in the living room, and hope to do the same for the laundry room shelves at some point; there are also some things stored there–the cake carrier, the brace–that don’t need to be there, which opens up more shelf-space.

I also got a new set of knives this week. My old set, which I’d bought about eight years ago at Costco, was just getting too dull and had been sharpened too many times, so I broke down and found a nice set of Oster stainless steel knives (dishwasher safe, no less) on-line and ordered them; and wow, I’d forgotten what it was like to actually have sharp knives. The cheese knife slices through block cheese like its warm butter, and when I cut up the rotisserie chicken for chicken salad yesterday I couldn’t believe how easily the knife was dicing the chicken and the celery. Clearly, I’d waited too long to buy a new set of knives, and I do really like them, you know. The block is smaller than the old one so it takes up less counter space, and the stainless steel handles look so modern and stylish–so yes, you could say that I am very pleased with myself regarding the knives. There are some other things I need to get around here to make life easier–blinds for my windows, since the crepe myrtles are gone and not coming back; a medal case for those medals I won for y/a (Sleeping Angel and Lake Thirteen were the books that won–gold and silver); and maybe this rolling cart I saw at Office Depot that can replace this little table next to my desk so that I can keep the office supples and so forth in, emptying out other drawers so I can use them for something else.

New knives, new microwave: who dis? Hell, I even bought more spoons to replace the ones that had gone missing!

I really do like getting better organized, what can I say? It gives me the illusion that my life is somehow ordered and orderly, and so what if it’s a delusion? It makes me feel better, and yeah, that’s probably partly an anxiety issue but it’s not as intense as it used to be and I don’t look at mess in horror anymore, but rather as something that can be tidied, and that is still satisfying for me to do.

And on that note, I think I am going to head into the spice mines. Y’all have a great Sunday now, you hear? And I may be back later; I may not be back until tomorrow morning. Who knows? We shall see how it all turns out, shan’t we?

Hard to Say I’m Sorry

Saturday morning and I slept late blog, which is perfectly okay and not a cause for panic anymore over the “lost hours” I “wasted” this morning sleeping longer. I feel good this morning, actually, rested and alert and clear-headed, too. I had planned to not leave the house this weekend, but I may have to make a slight grocery run today to pick up a few things. I did spend some time in bed this morning awake and cuddling with Sparky while wondering if I do indeed need to go out into the rain or if it can wait until tomorrow or even Monday. There are a few things I do need, and if I go out of the house I can maybe get a burger somewhere, like Five Guys or Sonic. Decisions, decisions, you know? I’ve not had a burger in weeks, either, or red meat of any kind. This hasn’t been a conscious choice, of course, just how things have worked out. I weighed myself at work the other day and was still at around 203-204 (with my shoes, belt, wallet and keys on my person) so I am much closer to the 2024 goal weight I wanted to achieve.

And yes while it would be nice to go back under 200 again, I don’t really think that’s going to happen. And I don’t care if I do! At some point, I made progress on that score, too, which is really nice. Maybe it’s being over sixty and being seriously out of fucks to give? Whatever, it does feel lovely not to be worried about people thinking I look out of shape or gross or something. (I also haven’t set foot in a gay bar in practically a decade, if not longer. Coincidence? Probably not.)

Yesterday was a nice, quiet day around here. I spent the day doing chores around work duties. Sparky was his usual Big Energy Kitten self, galloping around and leaping at me and climbing me to ride my shoulders (his favorite place, I swear), but I managed to get dishes done and laundry finished and some picking up around here done before the LSU Gymnastics meet last night at Missouri; they didn’t win the meet and they had a below-par performance, especially after logging one of the highest scores of the year the week before against Kentucky. But it’s a long season and you can never count them out, as we discovered last year when they made the Final Four at the end of the year. After that we watched the figure skating, which wasn’t great, frankly. But I am happy for Amber Glenn to finally win the national title, even if she kind of backed into it, and it’ll be fun to watch the ice dance and the men this weekend. It was also a nice day because Paul worked at home, so he was here all day too, which I liked. I hate being a Festival widow, seriously. But it’ll be past soon, and then we’ll be heading into the summer with all that entails–stinging caterpillars, swarming termites, and high Entergy bills.

I’m hoping to get some good writing work done this weekend and not to be lazy, which is always a struggle for me. I want to get this first draft of “When I Die” finished, and I really want to finish the first draft of “Parlor Tricks” this weekend, as well as some other writing as well. I also have a stack of mail to get through, and some filing and other mess to straighten up here in the office space, which is all too often a victim of Big Kitten Energy, and it is again this morning as well. I also want to do the floors on the first floor again, and we also need to change the vent filter for the HVAC system, which is undoubtedly seriously overdue. (I need to order more filters, too, since the one I have is the last one, and there are some other things I could use from Lowe’s I could have delivered as well. Yay, delivery! I also need some things from Office Depot, but I don’t mind walking over there in the rain to get it, either. Maybe I can order a pizza for lunch from U Pizza as well as some things from Office Depot, which I can pick up in one fell swoop? I’m really getting back into pizza again, if you hadn’t noticed, but it had been years since I had a real pizza before Paul brought that one home from Midway on Freret–which is what I really want, actually–but I suppose the smart thing to do is finish this, do some email and cleaning around here while eating breakfast, then figuring out what I need to get from places and making an errand plan for either today or tomorrow. Of course, I could save the groceries until tomorrow as well….hmmm. Decisions, decisions.

Choices, said in Tatianna’s voice.

Looks like someone’s Big Kitten Energy has awakened as well, as I hear things crashing to the floor from the counters behind me. Sparky sure is lucky he is so darned cute and sweet, you know? LOL. He actually is, and he is definitely the boss around here too, with both of us wrapped around his monstrously sized paw.

All right, I think it’s time to bring this to a close and get on with the day. I need to empty the dishwasher and do some filing and cleaning, and I also need to make something to eat because I woke up very hungry this morning. So have a lovely Saturday wherever you are, Constant Reader, and who knows? I may be back later; I may not be back until tomorrow; it’s a mystery!

Even the Nights Are Better

Constant Reader, I didn’t write a damned thing last night.

It rained pretty much all day, and the city was in a flash flood warning for most of it (again today as well), and I managed to make it through the work day fine. I got off work early because of PT, left and got the mail on the way to PT, and then made groceries after PT. PT amped up yesterday and was not easy the way it had been; there was even an exercise at the very end I simply could not do. As I also despise failing at something, that was a needed exercise in humility. At the same time, it was also the first time I’ve tried any exercise since the surgery that I wasn’t able to do–and the surgery was two months ago this week. So, rather than being hard on myself about it, I chose to accept it as a milestone and something I need to overcome rather than a failure. (See how the meds are working for me now? In October that would have sent me into a funk of depression and “I’m such a loser” thinking, so I am not sure if I just have a better mental attitude, if its the meds working, or a combination of two. Regardless, I am counting it as a win.) So, I got home from work, did a few things around here, and eventually fell asleep in my easy chair, which is where I was when Paul got home. He woke me up and I went to bed and slept beautifully all night–partly because of the rain–and so here we are, with me feeling rested, it’s gray and gloomy and rainy outside, and I am working at home so I do not have to leave the house unless I want to. Huzzah!

I have to say I’ve really not been tired or groggy all week–I haven’t been that way in the morning in a very long time, but I do start falling asleep around nine-ish every night. I guess my body has not only adjusted to the lovely new meds but also to my work schedule. There’s really no chance I’ll stay up later than I should on a weeknight now because I am conking out once the clock strikes nine. I hope to get a lot of things done today around the house and around work-at-home duties; I feel really good and energized this morning. Sam the handyman came in and painted the kitchen ceiling yesterday (it looks so nice this morning!) but left the giant ladder in the kitchen so he could come in and do some touching up, and needless to say, the massive ladder is a delightful playground for Sparky–who not only loves to climb but also has figured out how to climb down, too. I told you he’s a very smart boy…and so big! Not full grown yet, either. I think he is going to be bigger than Skittle, who was also a very big boy.

Yikes!

I’m hoping to get a lot done this weekend, frankly, but I am also not going to worry about holding my feet to the fire should I not. I do want to finish this story I’ve been working on this week, and I do want to do some more writing along the way. I also want to spend some quality time reading Lina Chern’s Playing the Fool and maybe finishing off some of these other posts I’ve been playing with for quite some time. I would like to finish my analysis of Saltburn (which I can also rewatch again, which is marvelously possible thanks to streaming services), as well as my analysis of the latest volume in Heartstopper, and why it made me a bit uncomfortable, just as the show’s second season was questionable in some ways. I still like and appreciate it very much, but at the same time, nothing is above criticism and critique, especially when it’s approached in a positive way. Because the bottom line is I do think Heartstopper, both book and show, are vitally important works; there’s just a couple of things I find questionable, which is also a broader question for the community as a whole, too.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday wherever you are, Constant Reader, and stay safe and dry, New Orleans!

Don’t You Want Me

And just like that, it is Thursday again. I have to leave the office a little early today because I have PT at five today, which means getting uptown at a peak traffic time. But it’s a nice way to end my day, really; I doubt I’ll be much in the mood to do much of anything when I get home from that. Tomorrow is another work-at-home Friday, which means I’ve somehow managed to get through another week, and January is rapidly coming to a close. The first night of parades is a week from tomorrow! But my work schedule has been all worked out, I might have to use up some vacation time here and there to make up for leaving the office early that big final weekend, but that’s also okay. It’s hard to believe it’s here already; Krewe de Vieux is this weekend, too.

I did write last night when I got home. I didn’t write as much as I did the night before, but I am very happy with the slightly less than two thousand words I added to my story “When I Die,” and I also realized last night–and double checked to be sure–that my geography in the story was wrong; I then looked at a map to see that yes, I was indeed correct about the geography in question. The story is also running a bit long–but the geography mistake will save me some words when I go back and make that correction. The story is taking shape nicely, and I think I may even be able to get it finished tonight, if I remain ambitious and stay on top of things. I was a bit tired when I got home from the office yesterday, but did manage to get some chores done and yes, I spent some time playing with Sparky, which is always a lovely and nice way to wind down from the stress and aggravations of a work day. I also took care of something that I’d been avoiding and hadn’t been terribly happy about, in all honesty, but it felt really good to get it taken care of and was one of those things I do generally avoid and put off in case of unpleasantness, but I got it taken care of and am very pleased with myself, to be perfectly honest.

But it does feel amazing to be writing again. I’m not worrying about the quality of the story or anything, just getting it out there, and it is starting to take shape nicely. I am giving my creativity free rein with the story, and so I know I am overwriting and probably contradicting myself and other things like that, but I am also really looking forward to polishing, editing, and trimming it down into shape. I really do love short stories and I really enjoy the challenge of writing them (novels are easier for me, which doesn’t make any sense), and I am really liking this story. I have another on deck that I am looking forward to finishing, too. Let’s hear it for writing again, shall we? Huzzah? HUZZAH!

I slept really well last night–it rained overnight, which always makes me sleep better, and I don’t have to leave the house tomorrow, which means I can sleep late if I so choose, and I am starting to feel better about how the apartment looks and getting it back under control. I have another load of dishes to do when I get home tonight after emptying the dishwasher, and I also have laundry in various stages that all need to be finished off this evening when I get home. I’m pretty pleased with how well this first full week of work has gone for me, at least so far; I am neither tired nor fatigued this morning, I got up easily, and my coffee tastes marvelous. I think we have a slow day at the office today so I can get things done that I need to so I can sail into my work-at-home day relatively easily. Next Friday I have a doctor’s appointment and PT on the same morning of the first day of parades, which means any and all errands for the weekend must be completed by the afternoon so I can safely park the car on the street for the weekend. I think it’s supposed to rain all day today, too, and the weather is warming up some. I could tell last night that the weather was changing; it wasn’t stuffy and warm enough to turn on the air conditioning, but it was borderline close.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and you never know–I may be back later, I may not. Stay tuned!

Abracadabra

I wrote yesterday.

I don’t know if all writers have the same fears that I do, but chief amongst them for me is that the words will stop coming one day. I know, I often will have fallow periods where I don’t feel like writing anything, or that the well needs to be replenished before I can draw from it again. Since the surgery I’ve been trying to write, and not succeeding. The brace was a problem, the loopiness of my brain was another problem, and of course the correct medications at long last also relieved me of the stress/anxiety, which naturally I worried my anxiety might be the seed and root from which my writing sprang. But last night when I got home from work I was determined, and I sat down and started writing. I had been trying to work on this short story for quite some time, and over the last few weeks the form of the story began taking shape in my head. I decided, once I got home from running errands, I was going to sit down and work on the story. The most I’ve ever been able to do at a time since the surgery is a couple of hundred words here and there, and a great day was getting more than three hundred. I had started the story last week, got about five hundred or so words in, and then….not much. But last night, I sat down and added almost twenty-five hundred words to it in one sitting. And it felt amazing. I’m sure they aren’t great words and more story and editing is definitely required on the story, but I hadn’t had a writing day like that in a very long time–so long I’d also reached a point where I was worried that the words weren’t going to come anymore.

It’s so nice to know that isn’t the case, and that the magic is still there.

And it feels even better this morning. I just needed one day of that, apparently, to get my confidence back. Hopefully, tonight I’ll finish that story and tomorrow night after work and PT I can start another.

I was a Festival widow again last night–Paul not getting home until well after I went to bed–but last night was, of course, the final episode of the three-part reunion for The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which was kind of disappointing, given all that had been promised. Ironically, reality television (or at least the kind I prefer to watch) has become so scripted and produced that surprises–like the ones this show delivered–are very rare (and you also have to wonder, still, how much of it was produced and created), and so they get a lot of attention and publicity and are all over the zeitgeist (Vanderpump Rules and Scandoval, anyone?), and of course, ratings are the most important thing. Anyway, I did spend almost two hours watching that and even the Watch What Happens Live that follows, which I never watch (I loathe Andy Cohen), but that was it for me; once the credits rolled I went to bed and had another lovely night’s sleep.

It feels, in some ways, like my life is starting to come back together and fall back into what it was before 2023 again, which is kind of nice. I’ve felt like my life has been out of my control for a very long time now (and yes, I’ve accepted finally that such control is actually an illusion; we have so little control over what happens to us and in our lives, really), but I kind of feel like I’m starting to get a grasp on everything again, and that’s nice. It’s amazing what a difference it makes when I actually am writing something, isn’t it? I feel so much better and at peace with the world and centered. Life provides enough drama as it is, so why seek it out? I find myself checking Twitter less and less now; I do miss the people I used to engage with there, who are now scattered over numerous other platforms, and having to check more than one and try to be active on more than one (and let’s face it, both Twitter and Facebook were more than enough for me) is more than I have the bandwidth for, let alone any such desire to maintain all these different social media accounts. I do seem to spend most of my time on social media blocking people more than anything else, and I don’t know that that is a productive use of my time on social media? Looking for people to block rather than to interact with? Really no, and it’s just more negativity.

Because that’s what I need more of in my life: negativity. Please.

And on that note, I think I’ll go ahead and head into the spice mines. I may be back later or it may be tomorrow; who can say for sure? But whatever happens, have a lovely middle of the week Wednesday, Constant Reader.

Hold Me

There’s just something about cold weather that affects me emotionally in a negative way. I’m not sure what it is, or why precisely this happens, but it does and I really don’t like it. I’ve been in kind of a funk now for several days–health insurance issues aren’t helping either (Blue Cross/Blue Shield Louisiana is a garbage company, in case any of you were wondering; they haven’t gotten any better since I was able to stop using them for health care back in 2011; now I am stuck with them again and they are the same pieces of shit they’ve always been)–and I know that the anniversary of Mom’s death is coming up and having an effect on me. The holidays were tough, indeed, but the distraction of the surgery and the recovery helped get me through that somehow; I was already miserable, so being emotionally miserable on top of that seemed more manageable than just dealing with my first holidays without her by itself with no other distractions. I didn’t have a very good day yesterday, overall. I slept decently, got up and went to work, but felt sort of out of it all day, like I’d never completely woken up, and just wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything much yesterday. I couldn’t find my wallet before I left the house, and so that was bothering me all day (I did find it later in the day in my backpack, but the day was already wrecked by then); I had to leave the office early for PT, which was fine, but …more disruption of my normal routine, which always makes me feel out of sorts. I forgot my hearing aids, too, which wasn’t much of a help either. Heavy heaving sigh. But at least I wasn’t client facing with my sourness, and I did get caught up on all of my work duties yesterday. The schedule looks pretty easy for the rest of the week as well, so maybe I can coast into this weekend relatively safely and recuperate, or at least get some respite for my soul.

PT was hard (and getting harder with every visit), but at least now I feel like I’m doing something, if that makes sense? The dexterity stuff was pretty easy and thus felt like I wasn’t really doing anything to improve my arm. The scars are becoming even less noticeable the more time passes as well; Dr. O’Brien was clearly a miracle worker in the operating room. I also don’t feel sore from the PT yet, either, despite the struggle some of those exercises were yesterday. I was worn out when I finally got home–I also ran errands and made groceries afterwards–and essentially I wasted the evening cuddling with Sparky in my easy chair. I know I watched some things–Paul didn’t get home until after I went to bed–but this morning I couldn’t tell you what any of it was. My brain was a little too fried to do any reading, and the whole day just really felt off so I just kind of sat in my chair with background noise going while I let my mind wander creatively. I got groggy/sleepy around eight thirty, but stayed up for a little while longer hoping Paul would come home…to no avail. So, Sparky and I went to bed pretty early last night, and I fell asleep almost immediately.

I slept well last night and I feel good this morning–not sleepy or groggy or tired–which is a good thing. It’s not as cold as it has been–high fifties!–this morning so there’s none of that to deal with, and hopefully it’ll be a nice day hovering around the high fifties low sixties all day. I suspect there will be rain today–there was a little yesterday slightly on my way home from the errands–and that will probably make things cold again, but that’s fine. I still can’t believe parades start a week from Friday, which is going to make life challenging again as it does every year when you live inside the box. I did do some thinking about the next Scotty last night, which was nice–it’s always nice to engage your brain a little, which is also why I don’t remember much of what I was watching last night since it was working primarily as background noise for me while my mind wandered. I did get some more ideas on how to work out these two stories (“When I Die” and “Parlor Tricks”) and get drafts finished. I really need to focus on putting words down on the page. I don’t think I’ve managed to write more than 500 words of fiction at a time since the surgery? Not good, right? But now that all feels right with the world again, I think I can get back to work again.

The funny thing is I have gotten so used to my hearing aids that forgetting them makes me feel disconnected from reality. It’s nice being able to hear properly–or at least better than I was hearing before–although I generally don’t wear them around the house on the weekends so it always feels strange when I put them back in again and have to get used to listening to how my voice actually sounds rather than how I think it sounds. (And singing along to the music in the car really makes me wince. I cannot sing. At. All. Which sucks, because I love to sing and always have.) But I am happy to be heading into this new year with some of these things finally handled. My teeth have been taken care of, I have my hearing aids, and I got the needed surgery for my arm. I’ve dropped twenty pounds or so since October, I am rediscovering my joy in exercise (even if it is just PT), I am sleeping well, and I have a darling cat who loves to sit on my shoulders. Life is pretty good, really. The only thing that I need to make me feel even better about things this morning is to get some writing done tonight, you know?

The insurance stuff will work itself out somehow; things inevitably do in one way or the other. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than not having insurance and at least now I can get the meds I need and so on. I don’t know why I let things get to me the way I did over the weekend and yesterday, but it was more of a combination of things, really. Not remembering my hearing aids and not being able to put my hands on my wallet before leaving the house (I had put it in my backpack to make sure Sparky didn’t do something with it and so I would remember it; of course I immediately forgot that I did that so…yeah) didn’t help matters any, compounding the imminent anniversary of my mom’s death as well as the insurance issues…I shouldn’t let those things get to me in the future, but it was all just a bit much yesterday morning and I also didn’t feel so rested yesterday morning either.

So, here’s to a new day dawning with me in a better space emotionally and spiritually than I was yesterday, and I am going to just keep my head up and try to stay focused, happy and positive today. Wish me luck, okay?

And now I shall head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and you never know–I may be back later.

Hurts So Good

Ah, Monday morning back to work blog today. I have to leave early as I have a PT appointment at four today, but that’s okay. I also have to run errands, and I will already be uptown, which is terrific. (Mail and make a little groceries, for those who are unsure what I mean by errands.) I’m usually in a good mood when I finish PT (it’s the endorphins), so hopefully that will make running the errands in the cold a little easier. It should get up to the sixties by the time I leave the office today. Parades begin next weekend (not this coming one, but the next) and I am not even remotely in the slightest prepared to deal with all the aggravation, exhaustion and fun that comes from living inside the box1, as we call it here. While it does mean having easy access to parades and catching throws, it also makes navigating every day life incredibly difficult.

Sigh.

I feel very rested this morning, after a weekend spent feeling tired most of the time. I managed to do very little this weekend other than rest and cleaning and chores. Maybe the strength PT on Friday wore me out far more than I had originally suspected; after all, it’s the first taxing kind of exercise I’ve done in over a year. (I also have to leave work a little early today as well for a session later this afternoon.) I didn’t get much done this weekend, sadly, but I consider progress on the house to be progress of a kind at any rate. I also started reading Lina Chern’s Play the Fool, which I am enjoying; the voice is quite original and delightful. We also watched another episode of Lupin last night, which is also quite good.

I was struggling there for a moment to remember what precisely I did yesterday while Paul took calls and worked upstairs; I just remembered that I spent most of the day finishing the original BBC series of Brideshead Revisited. I can see why the show was so popular back when it originally aired and why it own so many Emmys–Americans have always thought British productions of anything to be vastly superior to anything produced here–and it did remind me a lot of Downtown Abbey, which also led me to wonder why Americans are so fascinated by the British upper class. I know I certainly used to be, but my lack of knowledge regarding Brideshead seemed like a missing cultural touchstone for me, and now that I’ve seen it–yes, I can see how influential it was. There would be no Downton without Brideshead, but the original is far less soapy than the later show….and of course, Upstairs Downstairs was truly the original Downton, a soapy show about a wealthy family’s ups and downs as well as their servants. I don’t imagine the occasional thoughts I would have while watching–deep criticisms of the class system and the disproportionate division of wealth in British society of the time; how it would have sucked to have been one of their servants–would have occurred to me had I watched when I was younger. I also felt that there was more to the relationship between Charles and Sebastian than mere friendship; which is another thing it has in common with Saltburn; an ambiguous love relationship between two men. I was also rather disappointed that Sebastian disappeared from the show about halfway through so it could focus on Charles and Julia, which I felt was giving Sebastian, whom the show really centered at first, very short shrift indeed. I will go ahead and read the book–my education in Evelyn Waugh was sorely neglected–but I feel that watching the series has given me enough grounding to explore Saltburn again through that experience.

It’s chilly again this morning but nothing terribly unbearable, thank the Lord. I do feel rather good this morning, and hope I can ride that feeling through the work day, into PT and making groceries again after work tonight. This is an actual full work week, of which there have been few for quite some time for me, so we’ll see how I feel when Friday rolls around again, shall we?

It’s been an interesting and slightly uneven January so far, bit of an up and down month, in all honesty. Life is always a rollercoaster, isn’t it? Ups and downs and never certain when the next curve or sudden drop is coming, all at great speeds that sometimes never give you a chance to catch your breath. There’s nothing life can give us that we can’t handle, as Scotty always says, it’s how you handle it that matters. I’ve always found that emotional responses or reactions are often counterproductive and exhausting, and if you can somehow switch the emotional component down or off or mute it so you can engage your logical brain and figure out how to handle it and what you need to do next to start the getting through it process might not be the absolute healthiest way to handle anything, but it has always worked for me and is why people always think I am so good in a crisis–I am very good at ignoring the macro while focusing on the micro. The problem with that, of course, is that you never go back and process the feelings and emotions; they’ve been securely buried for the moment and inevitably, that results in me thinking oh I don’t need to process that after all!

When in fact I really do need to.

That’s been happening a lot for me since the concurrent COVID pandemic/shutdown coupled with me turning sixty and eventually losing my mom. I’ve been thinking about things from my past a lot more than I ever allowed myself to, identifying the lessons I’ve taken from bad experiences and how I turned that into I don’t ever want to feel like this again s so I will never do that again which may not have been exactly healthy. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over that sense of not belonging anywhere when I was a kid, which was partly being a gay kid (I didn’t know that specifically, but I also knew I was different from the other kids) as well as having some chemical issues in my brain (ADHD, anxiety, etc.), added to the sense of not belonging because I was from Alabama and living in Chicago. New Orleans was, in fact, the first place I’ve ever felt like I belonged, and that’s part of the reason I love it here so much. There wasn’t any single one thing to blame; I always thought it was this or that or the other, but rather the combination of everything that made my childhood so incredibly difficult for me (and pretty much my life until about thirty-three or so).

I think the real reason–I was asked this on the young adult panel this weekend–I write about teenagers is I am still trying to make sense of my own experiences. I also think that my past is also filled with very rich material for my writing. I learned that with both Bury Me in Shadows and #shedeservedit–writing about things that I have had trouble understanding in my own life fictionally has not only made my work better but also has helped me process things in a healthier way than I ever have before.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader.

  1. “The box” means inside the parade route for Carnival; the box being formed by Canal, Napoleon, St. Charles and Tchoupitoulas. Once parades have started you cannot cross any of those streets, and yes, I live just inside the box on the St. Charles side of the rectangle. ↩︎

Rosanna

As a general rule, it’s safe to say I shouldn’t speak publicly at any time of any day before noon. That said, I had to moderate a panel about satisfying endings yesterday morning at ten a.m. my time, and Constant Reader, I didn’t stress out before hand like I usually do; the anxiety making the experience unpleasant and the lead-up to it really awful, with upset stomach, sweating, racing heart and nervous energy. However, I was calm this morning and went into the panel with a relatively stress-free mentality, with no physical reaction and no anxiety, and you know what? It was kind of marvelous. (It does help to have marvelous panelists, which I did have.) I had also slept well the night before, which helped, and I managed to get up and eat and have plenty of coffee and got some things finished around here before I had to sign into my first ZOOM session (there were two others later on, but I was merely a panelist and therefore no pressure even if I wasn’t properly medicated now). It was cold, of course, for New Orleans–I could feel that chill right through the floor and through the windows of my workspace–but nothing unbearable for sure.

I was exhausted yesterday once I was finished with the Book-a-thon; I sat in my chair and streamed Brideshead Revisited–which really didn’t need to be a mini-series, I am thinking, because it eventually gets a bit tired and boring–but I certainly can see why Saltburn reminded people of it. I’ll probably watch some more episodes this morning before Paul gets up, but the homoeroticism is definitely there, and I also see the similarities between Sebastian and Felix, although Charles and Ollie are very little alike. I did keep falling asleep in my chair, and finally went to bed, feeling tired and exhausted, around eight (!). But I feel very rested and good this morning–I did feel a little wrung out to start the day yesterday–and so this chilly morning in New Orleans I am up early and trying to get things done around here.

I did enjoy the Book-a-thon, but I am unused to doing things like that on Saturdays and I also had to get up early so I could be lucid for the panel I had to moderate. I met some awesome new-to-me authors whose books I am now looking forward to checking out–I actually bought some of them during the panels by using my phone, which the camera couldn’t pick up–and I also think I may spend some time reading this morning as well. I think my next book is going to be Lina Chern’s Playing the Fool. Lina was one of my panelists for that humor panel at Bouchercon I had to fill in on at the last minute (seriously, one of the best panels I’ve ever been on), and she has recently been nominated for the Mary Higgins Clark Award and a Lefty! I’ve been wanting to read everyone on that panel’s books ever since that panel, and I’ve already gotten to J. D. O’Brien’s marvelous Zig Zag.

I also want to do some writing today, and to answer some emails to send tomorrow (I try not to ever send emails on the weekend; emails beget emails, and I don’t like spending my time on the weekends answering emails and then answering replies and it becomes an endless Sisyphean task). There’s also filing to do (always) and I still need to do some more clean-up around here as well. But I think most of the big chores (laundry, dishes) are done other than the floors, and I really need to stop being so reluctant to do the floors. I actually used to like doing the floors–it really makes a difference as to how clean the apartment looks; likewise, clean windows also make the house look cleaner–but for some reason I don’t really enjoy it the way I used to. I really need to move furniture in order to do it right, and I’ve not really been able to move furniture since injuring my arm last January.

And maybe moving furniture will help me find my sleeping pills.

Sigh.

Okay, I think I am going to rustle up some breakfast and head into the spice mines this morning. Have a lovely Sunday wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I may be back later.

What’s Forever For

It’s cold again this morning in New Orleans, with it around thirty-one this morning as I swill my coffee and shiver a bit here in the workspace. There’s always cold air coming in from somewhere–the windows, the frames, somewhere–so it’s always a bit colder when I’m at my desk than it is elsewhere inside the apartment. I slept really well again last night–still don’t know where the sleeping pill bottle got to, thanks again, Sparky–but I do have a stopgap until I can get that prescription refilled again at the end of the month, and it worked last night. Fingers crossed that it continues to do so until I either find the original bottle or get the refill at the end of the month…

Yesterday was a good day around here. I had my strength PT yesterday morning, which is getting more difficult by the appointment. It really kicked up into gear yesterday, and while I was very happy to make it through the workout without begging for mercy or having to take too many breaks–it was harder than I imagined, but I also refused to get concerned, anxious or worried about the fact I was using only four pound dumbbells for some and a six pounder for others. But the burning of lactic acid in my muscles, while startling at first, eventually reminded me of how good it feels when you do work out, and the rest of my body was screaming to be stretched, exercised and used. I ran a couple of errands afterwards before returning home to my work-at-home chores. I finished watching the first episode of the 1982 BBC Brideshead Revisited, which I’d never seen before and am now watching (and eventually reading the original source material), inspired by Saltburn, and that’s partly so I can write more intelligently about the film, which still haunts me. I cannot remember the last time I was so interested and intrigued by and with a film, which means it’s a good one. It even has me thinking about revisiting The Talented Mr. Ripley, and reading more of the Ripley novels, which I have steadfastly ignored for the most part despite my abiding love for Highsmith’s work (the woman herself not so much…although it is interesting that two of my favorite women authors of all time, Highsmith and du Maurier, were lesbians or had lesbian tendencies).

We also watch Friday Night Heights, as ESPN calls the Friday night SEC gymnastics meets, to see LSU take down Kentucky and become the first team this season to break the overall 198 score mark, which is incredibly impressive. LSU has everything they need to win their first national title this year, but they’re going to have to be mentally tough and keep improving, which they already seem to be doing quite well.

After that, we watched the season finale of Reacher, which was fun if inexplicable; the ability to do all kinds of crazy stunts and so forth thanks to CGI does tend the make things a bit ridiculous as crews are always trying to outdo everything that came before. The helicopter scene was a bit preposterous, but no more preposterous than some of the aerial feats performed in whatever that Tom Holland/Mark Wahlberg treasure hunt movie was last year. (Those scenes always remind me that I wouldn’t survive as I would be so absolutely terrified I would either have a heart attack or a stroke on the spot, if not both simultaneously–you don’t see Scotty ever getting into a plane or a helicopter or anything; the biggest heights thing I ever did with Scotty was in Jackson Square Jazz and there’s been nothing since.)

I also think I am getting to the point where I am going to be ready to really start writing again. There was a lot of inspiration and creative thinking done yesterday while doing some tedious work-at-home chores; which really felt good. I think I may even be able to sit down tomorrow morning after i get up and actually go to town with writing. I am in the process of starting a new Scotty, so the opening is playing in my head; I know the boys will be living in the Garden District while Cooper Construction1 turns the townhouse on Decatur Street into a single family home again with a personal gym on the first floor. I had been thinking it needs to be set in either July or August (Mississippi River Mischief was set in May) and I definitely think it should be Hurricane Party Hustle, the accursed title and story I had to abandon in the wake of Katrina. It’s still a good story, and it could work, even with the difference in time (2005 was a different world than 2019, which is when this will be), then I can do the Mardi Gras book, and then the quarantine book….which will bring Scotty to twelve adventures and then maybe–just maybe–I can think about retiring the character and the series. I am not saying I am going to, but that’s as far out as I have him planned and when I run out of plans is usually when I reevaluate.

I also have some things to do today for the Bold Strokes Book-a-Thon today. At eleven am eastern I am moderating a panel on strong finishes; then I have a young adult panel and a “you’ve written an insane amount of books” panel. That’s probably going to take most of my brain bandwidth today, and when that’s all done I can probably do some chores and maybe do some reading–or watch more Brideshead Revisited.

And on that note, I think I am going to head into the spice mines for the rest of the day. Have a lovely Saturday, stay warm, and who knows? I might be back later.

  1. Yes, this is a shout out to A Streetcar Named Murder, in case you missed it. ↩︎

I Need You

Friday morning and I am up way early for PT this morning. It feels warmer this morning–it’s in the fifties–but it’s not cold in the Lost Apartment, which is nice. I haven’t slept well now for about two nights running. My sleeping pills are missing–I couldn’t find them last night–which means they were probably left out on a counter and Sparky the Demon thought “toy!” and now I have to really spend some time trying to find them. I’ll make it through today relatively okay, I suppose, since it’s a work at home day, but after PT I have a couple of errands and after that I’ll be home for the day. I did chores last night when I got home, so the kitchen isn’t messy this morning and once I get back. here, it’ll be relatively easy to get the downstairs back under control and launch into the weekend. I have events all day tomorrow on ZOOM for the Bold Strokes Book-a-thon, too. Paul didn’t get home until after I went to bed last night, so I spent most of the evening (after doing some cleaning, which was wise and I am very grateful that I didn’t blow it off) playing with Sparky and watching some television. I watched the new episode of Percy Jackson and the Olympians, which I enjoyed, and then watched some documentaries on Youtube about history–mostly Byzantine, with some French and Austrian thrown in for good measure before going to bed relatively early. I did rest–my body feels very relaxed–but my mind never really shut off completely or for long.

The Lefty and Edgar nominations came out this week, and I have so many friends nominated on either or both lists! It’s always such a pleasure to see friends nominated for awards. It’s also a great opportunity to pick out some more great books to add to the list. I am also delighted to see Rob Osler nominated for Best Short Story (a queer nominee with a queer story!) and there’s another queer story nominated for the Lillian Jackson Braun Award, a book I actually blurbed: The Body in the Back Garden by Mark Waddell from Crooked Lane, so yay for a gay cozy being nominated! It always does my heart good to see queer writers being recognized by the mainstream, which is the kind of progress we’ve been wanting to see for decades. The categories for both the Leftys and the Edgars are stacked this year, which just goes to show how deep the bench actually is in crime fiction–and so many great books that weren’t nominated for either.

I blurbed several books this past year that are coming out now, so I want to go back and reread those so I can blog about them–not only Mark’s book but the new Rob Osler, Cirque du Slay and the new Margot Douaihy, Blessed Water. I also haven’t started reading another book quite yet–I was dragging too hard every night when I got home, really, to do any reading or engage my brain as much as I would like.

I think I may need to read out of my genre next, perhaps some horror? Paul Tremblay? Elizabeth Hand? I have so many great books in my pile, which is a delightful problem to complain about, but the struggle is real. How do I decide what to read when there are so many great books waiting for me to escape into? Maybe I should try to read just the books currently nominated for awards? Heavy sigh. Decisions, decisions.

It looks like we are having yet another hard freeze this evening, so hurray for not leaving the house for the rest of the day once I get home this morning. Sheesh.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head to PT. Have a great Friday, Constant Reader!