Ooh Baby Baby

Sunday morning and it feels cold here in the workspace again. I slept later than I’d intended (getting up at my usual time for work is going to be horrific tomorrow), but we’re still getting back to normal around here. I drove uptown yesterday to get the mail, and most of the snow is gone (bits here and there that haven’t melted yet). I made groceries, too, but I was right about the store being picked over; no deliveries had been made yet, but I didn’t need to get much in the first place, which was great. I was still exhausted when I got back home, so I settled in and watched the US Figure Skating Championships with Paul before we moved on to season 2 of The Night Agent, which is fun enough (I remember loving the first season, but am not loving the second as much as the first. but the main character, played by Gabriel Basso, is very sexy). I didn’t write anything yesterday because I was so tired, and my brain was a bit too fried to read anything. My shoulder was also very sore, and it feels tight and uncomfortable this morning, so I might push today’s gym visit to either later on today or later in the week. I’ll probably try to read some more this morning, and I’ve pretty much zeroed in on She Who Was No More as my next read because it’s French, so completely different (most likely) than most crime novels, especially those of its time. And my next read, methinks, won’t be in the crime family; I have books by Celeste Ng, Jami Attenberg, Valerie Martin, and Ann Hood in the stack, so general fiction next rather than genre.

I also read this marvelous thread about Huckleberry Finn that reminded me that 1) I’ve never read it, and 2) I really should. I was never really interested in Mark Twain as a writer when I was growing up; we were force-fed The Adventures of Tom Sawyer in junior high, and I absolutely hated that book; Tom was an asshole and thoroughly unlikable (I’ve always read books and watched film/TV with this perspective: would I like them in real life? I hated Tom, and the only character in the book I actually cared about was Huck, because he seemed decent–certainly more so than Tom, which was an interesting early lesson in how there’s no reward in life for virtue; Tom was acceptable to people as an orphan being raised by his aunt–whereas Huck was “trash”, despite his bad circumstances of having a criminal father and very poor and from the outside of “society.” The only thing I really took away from reading Tom Sawyer was that society, and it’s thoughts and opinions, were really stupid and required behaving towards people based on a caste system that did not tell whether someone was actually a good or bad person, and how wrong castes in a civilized society are–and really, how unAmerican society can actually be (I’ve always hated snobs, mainly because I am usually the one on the receiving end of their scorn)…which, fifty years later, can concede was a pretty good lesson. But I couldn’t get over how the teacher was trying to push Tom on us as a comic hero–which seemed to encourage that kind of behavior–and never liked Tom and have had no desire to revisit the book, and it also kept me from reading more Twain (we also had to read the jumping frog story, which I also hated) for well over a decade–and it’s why I also have never read Huckleberry Finn.1 When I did come back to Twain in my mid-twenties, I read the lesser known books–Pudd’nhead Wilson, The Prince and the Pauper, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, and the essay collection Life on the Mississippi2but never got around to Huck; maybe because it was praised so highly? I should probably correct that this year, and I should probably finally read A Confederacy of Dunces, too. Sigh. I know, I know, I’ve never read the great American novel or the great New Orleans novel. Maybe this year.

The NFL conference championship games are today, and I only care because I’d really enjoy seeing Jayden Daniels go to the Super Bowl and make history as a rookie; one of the great pleasures of this past football season is seeing the Washington fans–and the NFL, really–fall in love with LSU’s Heisman Trophy winner. I don’t know if they’ll beat the Eagles today or not, but hey, when was the last time the Commanders3 made it this far? I won’t watch another team in the play-offs–feels too much like cheating on the Saints–but I look forward to hearing the scores later on today.

I’m actually looking forward to going back to work this week, believe it or not. This unexpected weather-related week at home was a lovely and pleasant surprise, but at the same time I like having structure to my life. Yeah, it’s very easy to not be motivated when you’re at home and have things to do, but if it was a permanent condition I’d do better with it.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Cleaning to do, coffee to drink, and lots of writing and reading to get caught up on, so I am going to bid you adieu this morning and…may be back later. One never can be sure, after all. Have a lovely Sunday!

  1. When books are overhyped to me, I end up being disappointed by them. ↩︎
  2. The essays are actually kind of brilliant. ↩︎
  3. I’m also really tired of the racist fans who won’t let go of the old team name. You lost, get over it. ↩︎

Little Green Apples

well, that’s over for another year.

The combination Festival weekend (Tennessee Williams and Saints & Sinners) was, as always, a lot of fun and inspiring. It’s always lovely to see friends I don’t get to see very often (if at all), it’s always fun to talk about writing, and listening to writers and readers talking about books and stories and so forth always rejiggers my creativity (which, granted, has been working overtime lately but hasn’t had the requisite ‘park ass in chair and type’ drive that is necessary to get anything done.

I didn’t sleep well either Thursday or Friday nights, so Friday and Saturday were slogs for me. After my reading Saturday I came home, and just basically sat around the house, too tired to write or clean or even read. I went to bed early, and FINALLY slept well, so I felt rested and was raring to go on Sunday…until the closing reception was over and once again I hit a wall. So I took the streetcar home and watched Rogue One, which I’d bought on iTunes on Friday morning (release day), and then Feud, before going to bed. I slept in again, and I don’t have to be at the office until later today…I have a short day which is absolutely lovely.

It’s always lovely to go to events where you get to mix with other writers. It doesn’t happen very often–I’m luckier than most writers in that I get to do so more regularly than others–and there’s always that, I don’t know, sense of BELONGING you get when you’re around other writers, that is so terrific to feel.

I also bought some new books this weekend: a new copy of A Confederacy of Dunces, due for a reread; Kristen-Paige Madonia’s Fingerprints of You (we were on the y/a panel together–the second time, and I had meant to get her first book the first time and remembered to get it this time); All Over But The Shoutin’ by Rick Bragg (whom I’ve never read): and Long Shot, by Tyler Bridges and Jeremy Alford, about the Louisiana gubernatorial election in which Senator David Vitter, the overwhelming favorite, was defeated by a relatively unknown state representative. (I had kind of wanted to write a book about the rise and fall of both Vitter and former governor Bobby Jindal, titled Implosion…but I am not a journalist nor do I know enough about Louisiana politics….so I am glad someone wrote a book about Vitter’s fall.)

So, this morning and this evening I am going to try to wade through my emails and get caught up on that and everything that went on in the world while I was safely inside my Festival Bubble. I also have some writing to do this week!

So, to launch the new week, here’s a hunk for you, Constant Reader: