Tag: All of Us Murderers

So Sincere

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well–at least so far. 🙂 Today, all I have to do is swing by the Latter Library to drop off books to the book sale and stop at the Fresh Market on my way home from the library. It rained last night (I know, surprise) and I slept well,. I also slept a little later this morning because I was very tired last night because I had to get up at six to go to the office for a meeting. After that I had to run some errands (lab work, mail, groceries) before heading home to do my work and clean. I did manage to get some cleaning done–I got the bed linens and a load of laundry done, and did some picking up and organizing while season one of The Traitors played in the background. We also watched Pillion last night, and while I was appreciative of the attempt made by the film to show that kind of a relationship, it didn’t click with me and I kind of found it to be a bit dull–which is not something you want with a movie about sub/dom. I hadn’t wanted to see it, despite its subject matter (something spicy and gay–and yes, much as I hate using the word spicy to describe sex, it kind of works) because a good friend who is more knowledgeable and experienced with dom/sub relationships had hated it; which told me everything I needed to know about whether I should watch or not. They were right, too–I disliked the movie and thought it was kind of dull; I appreciated the attempt, though. Years ago it wouldn’t have been made, so there’s that. Progress? Maybe?

After I finished working yesterday I wrote a lot last night. One of my major problems with self-destructive mental patterns is that I don’t consider anything to be actually “writing” unless I’ve written some fiction. But last night as I sat in my chair, I wrote a lot in my journal, and it wasn’t just free flowing stream of consciousness stuff while my mind wandered. I actually planned out several short stories and novellas (already in progress, but I rarely do a lot of prep work for short stories, which could be the problem), which felt great–I rarely work out the stories and plots and usually just have an idea and start typing and hoping my brain keeps going. Just typing that made me see the absolute failure of logic there and maybe I just rewired my brain. I’ve filled almost an entire journal with my scribblings since I started a new one several weeks ago…which is a lot of fucking writing that I don’t count, as well as the blog and newsletter. Maybe this is why I am called prolific so much? I just scoff when people say that because I always think I can do more.

Learn to accept a compliment, Gregalicious.

I think I will probably take things a bit slow today–at least this morning, at any rate–because I do feel a bit tired. I need to take boxes of books to the library sale, stop by Fresh Market, and pick up the mail. Oh! One of my errands yesterday was also to pick up the new Lev Rosen, The Disaster Gay Detective Agency, which I’m hoping to read after I finish All of Us Murderers. I am also behind on his Andy Mills series; I still have the last two to go. I am going to spend some time reading this morning, and we’ll see how the day goes. I am a little worn down from the week, but I made it through the week without feeling tired or worn out or exhausted or fatigued. This morning feels like I’m on accessory power while my batteries recharge–and the errands aren’t going to help much, I don’t think. I also want to run by the dry cleaners and drop some things off that have been in the living room since the Festivals–it’s funny how you dump things in a chair and think oh, I’ll get to that later only to lose track of days and weeks and suddenly that stuff has been sitting there for months. I hope there’s no afterlife because Mom would be judging the fuck out of me!

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close, get more coffee, and adjourn to my easy chair where I can check out the news and read for a bit before getting cleaned up to run my errands. I hope you have a fabulous day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning, bright-eyed and rested and a-rarin’ to go.

Yes, great body and all, but I think he’s got a handsome face and I love that half-smile.

I Need A Lover

Ugh. Paul’s currently under the knife, and I’ve been up since four (!!!). We had to be here at 5:45, but the good news is we will probably be home before noon. Obviously, I am tired—no one should ever have to get up at four in the morning, seriously—and I have no idea what the rest of my day is going to look like. I know I’ll have to go get his prescriptions once I get him home—which is fine, I can run some errands at the same time—and then hopefully be settled in for the weekend. I do have lots of laundry and picking up to get done, too.

It was supposed to rain all day yesterday, but after the morning it was all over. I don’t know why I bother checking the weather; New Orleans’ weather forecasts literally change completely if you wait a few hours, and I need to remember that the forecast between May and October is always hot, humid, chance of rain. Every day, all day, week in, week out. I look forward to the rain, though—which is probably not the way most people feel.

I brought All of Us Murderers with me to read this morning, and I realized—despite being sleepy and tired—that there’s nothing wrong with the book at all; it’s just not what I was expecting, which I will delve into more when I finish reading it and write about it, which is a relief; that’s an entirely different kettle of fish, and by reframing how I’m reading it and reacting to it through a more accurate lens will change my reaction to it. I think this happens a lot with readers—they go into something expecting something else and then don’t like the book because they’re disappointed, rather than reframing their expectations; that’s why I simply say “it wasn’t for me” when I don’t enjoy something. One should always respect the amount of work and dedication that went into the book, which is something people should be reminded of more regularly.

Yesterday was a good day, even if my evening was a little truncated by having to go to bed earlier than usual—or at least I tried. I know I wanted to go to bed around nine, but I think it was closer to ten when I climbed the steps and slid beneath the pile of blankets. I was a bit tired by the end of the day, but nothing remotely close to how I used to feel on Thursdays. Even now, I don’t feel physically tired, and one of the best benefits of the three day weekend last week was my Achilles tendons finally got enough rest to stop hurting, so I can actually walk normally again—and it also means I can walk more quickly, and the stairs are no longer a trial. Huzzah! I also have lost about seven pounds or so in the last two weeks—I limit myself to weighing every two weeks because i refuse to obsess about my weight ever again—which was also kind of nice. I’m not eating as much as I used to because I get full a lot faster than I ever did before. I think that’s another age thing? Hopefully, I can start taking walks and getting in to better condition. AT LAST!

Okay, the surgeon came in to let me know everything went well and he’s in the recovery room for about half an hour before being returned here to this patient room. Probably be here for another couple of hours or so—he has to wait for his leg to wake up and do some physical therapy before we can head home. Yay! I’m sure he’ll go to sleep once we do get home, Sparky will curl up on him, and all will be well. Huzzah!

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines—well, go back to reading—and will be back bright and early in the morning! Until then!

My Clone Sleeps Alone

Thursday and the last day in the office for me. I’m off tomorrow because of Paul’s surgery (obviously), and we still don’t know what time we have to be at the surgery center. Thanks for all the well wishes, everyone. They are appreciated. It’s supposed to rain most of the day today–95% chance–although it was also supposed to rain all day yesterday and it really didn’t. Mississippi is being inundated, though, with flash flooding and all that good stuff. I think we’re slow in the clinic today, so I should be able to get my admin work done today.

Once we find out what time we have to be at the surgery center on Friday, I’ll be able to formulate any plans for the day and for the weekend. Which is fine; I just don’t do well with ambiguity and have never been a “play it by ear” kind of person–the medications have not changed that at all, so that clearly wasn’t a stressor–but I do have my to-do list/notebook to consult. I do have to pay some bills that are due next week before pay day that I’ve been kind of slagging off on–it’s not like they’re overdue or anything, they are simply due next week and on the last Pay-the-Bills Day I just didn’t feel like keeping up with it. (Every time I pay a bill, I think, now watch the world incinerate tomorrow. It used to be a joke…in the before times.)

Remember that planned Entergy outage from last weekend that didn’t happen because of the rain? They sent me an email and a text yesterday to let me know it was rescheduled for that day–after I was already at work and couldn’t do anything about it. All I could think was everything in the fridge is going to be wasted and replaced. I groaned at the thought of the money wasted and the money to spend to replace everything, but before I could spiral about it I thought about the people in the same situation who can’t afford to replace everything, and I was infuriated on their behalf. It went off around four, I got home after five to no power, but it was back on around six. Everything is fine, nothing spoiled…but I can’t get stop thinking about the people who can’t afford to replace groceries spoiled. Had this happened back in our poorer days, that would have been us. I know Entergy has to do stuff like this–they were replacing a circuit breaker that needed it–but more than same day notice would be appreciated–so people could stock in ice or something to keep things from spoiling. I mean, what about people on SNAP? The poor tax in this country is too high.

Since there was no power when I got home there was aught for me to do but sit in my easy chair with Sparky and start reading my next reads, All of Us Murderers and A Queer Kind of Death, and I must say, they are absolutely different queer stories and voices. A Queer Kind of Death is arch and campy and witty and loads of fun; it reminds me of P. G. Wodehouse and All About Eve, that wild and wonderful sophisticated kind of wit that is reminiscent of The Thin Man films, too. I think I may be being too. hard on Murderers because it is early in the book and I think I was reading critically rather than for pleasure. I’m not saying it’s bad; I’m saying it isn’t what I expected it to be (which is on me, not the author), and I am having to rethink it as I go because of that. Again, on me, not the author or the book. I’m going to take it to work to read on my lunch break, and with my mind reset we’ll see. It does remind me of Vincent Virga’s Gaywyck, and that is actually very high praise.

I also kind of smirked when I typed today’s title, because that title–and song–inspired a book idea in me–waaaay back when the song was fresh and shiny and new. It’s a story I still toy with from time to time; I’ve always wanted to write something dystopian, and this, among others, is one of the few dystopian ideas that actually stuck. I’ll probably never write it, of course–I’ve recognized that I will probably never get the chance to turn all of my ideas into published work–but it nags at me every once in a while.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am not sure when I’ll be able to post tomorrow–it depends on what time we have to be there tomorrow–but if I am not able to post before we go, I’ll take the iPad with me and try to write it in the waiting room. At any rate, I will be here at some point again tomorrow. Till then!

We Live for Love

Tuesday and it’s back to the office with me today. It was a marvelously relaxing holiday weekend, and I was pleased to read some more, and have ideas and work on writing, even if it was mostly scribbling in my journal. I don’t have a problem with any of it, and yes, I know I should be a little bit more concerned that I didn’t apply fingers to keyboard more than I did this weekend, but fuck it. I get to have free time and get to have down time, don’t I? And if i don’t, that’s not a life I want to live, thank you very much. It rained all day again yesterday, along with a lovely early afternoon thunderstorm. I put on season three of The Traitors for background noise and started reading and thinking and writing again, like I had done on Sunday afternoon. At some point I’ll need to funnel that energy and thought into writing on the keyboard. I also spent some time in the morning diving into the morass that is the news, which was cheery on the Ukraine front but not so much anywhere else. Ah, well.

And so it goes, I guess. The reality is the country has been on the decline for decades, but MAGA certainly accelerated the rush to the inevitable collapse. Who knows what will rise from the ashes? Will it be better or worse? I probably won’t be here to see it, and yes, I am very concerned about the midterms. I won’t alarm anyone with my usual pessimistic forecasts, because sadly I am proven right more often than not. It’s also no fun being Cassandra and not being listened to, either. I always thought she was the most tragic character in the entire story of the Trojan War, and have always wanted to write from her perspective. It would be an interesting exercise—a woman who can see the future but isn’t believed which drives her deeper and deeper into madness which makes each prophecy harder to believe? That is a particular kind of hell, isn’t it?

I wish Madeline Miller would make that her next novel.

It also dawned on me over the course of the weekend that May is almost finished, which means it will be JUNE soon…which is PRIDE MONTH. Should I be that old queen and be gauche, cliché and stereotypical and turn my newsletter into queer stuff all month? Of course, you already know the answer to that, don’t you? And yes, the answer is always yes. I think it’s important, and if queer content bothers the subscribers they wouldn’t be there in the first place. No one is making anyone read it, either. So, bearing Pride rolling up so quickly, I took that into consideration for my next reads, tabling what I had already had on deck, and switching it up a bit. My new-to-me read will be All of Us Murderers, which ticks off several boxes for me in addition to its being a queer read: it’s also a historical Gothic romance; it’s written by a cisgender-identified woman; and it’s also a crime novel. These are all things I want to talk about more in my newsletter, so I can touch on them during the newsletter about this book. I’ve also set aside The Ivy Tree as my next reread for A Queer Kind of Death by George Baxt, which I read decades ago and have an eye to see how it holds up. It’s also historic and was originally published in the 1960s, with a Black gay main character written by a gay white man…which should also prove interesting to revisit and talk about.

I feel good this morning, rested and relaxed and in a decent mood. I did do some writing–by hand–yesterday–in my journal, in which I reworked and rewrote the opening to an in-progress short story. Of course it isn’t one that fits any submissions call I have found recently, which is par for the course, but now that I am in such a period of low productivity I’ve pretty much decided that whatever pops into my head is what I should work on, rather than trying to force something that doesn’t want to be forced, which makes the most sense to me at the moment. My Achilles tendons don’t feel tight anymore, either, which is the biggest win to me of the weekend.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Till then!

The famous bust of Queen Nefertiti, whose name meant “the beautiful one has come.” And yes, it’s in a Berlin museum, and yes, the Germans need to return it because it’s loot.