Tag: books

Shoo Be Doo

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Tonight I am having dinner with a friend at Le Petit Grocery uptown, which is a marvelous place to eat, and how much do I love having a lovely meal with a good friend? I love it a lot, thank you for asking. I’m not completely agoraphobic, but I do prefer being home to being most places. Dad admitted when I was in Kentucky that he doesn’t have groceries delivered because it gets him out of the house…and I had to admit that not leaving the house ever sounds pretty amazing to me, which is probably not a good thing. I am solitary by nature (my lifelong dream has always been to live alone–Paul is probably the only person I could live with, and I do miss him when he’s gone, so that’s something, right?), and really, I never minded not being popular and I didn’t really miss it, either, other than having a sense that I was supposed to want those things. I would have been fine had I not been bullied, you know? That was what made school miserable for me–so why would I ever want to be around people in general? You can never go wrong never completely trusting straight people, harsh as that sounds, because they’ll almost always disappoint you1–and I’m not that trusting of gay white males, either. I have also found that standing with, and listening to (most) Black women will never steer you wrong2.

I also sent out a newsletter yesterday, about Riley Sager’s delightful The Only One Left, and you can click on the title there to read it, if you so desire. It’s really not horror–it’s a thriller, first and foremost–but as a Gothic, I feel like it can be considered “light horror,” at least. There are so many novels that straddle the line between crime and horror, and Gothic suspense definitely can go either way; Victoria Holt’s ghost monk in Kirkland Revels was absolutely terrifying and scary. I love that Gothic mood of tightly wound tension kept in check but keeps building until it explodes.

I don’t feel tired this morning, and I got out of bed at six promptly, having been already awake since five thirty. I was awake when Sparky jumped into the bed this morning, curling up at my feet to wait for the alarm. My joints don’t ache and my legs don’t feel tired, which is a big win, as it not being mentally tired. I clearly needed the time off, didn’t I? Tomorrow I have work at home chores to do, and some errands to run, but it should be a good day. I found another anthology I want to write a story for, and when talking about it with a friend3, he gave me an absolutely brilliant concept for the story, which I am kind of excited about writing, and now I have to come up with a working title, at the very least. I may even make it a Scotty Bradley story, if I can make it work that way. My first ever Scotty short story! I wrote a Chanse short story for the collection I did a few (probably more; I have no concept of times past) years ago, but no Scotty, ever. Maybe now that’s he’s older and not a bar slut anymore? I do want to get a lot of writing done this weekend, wish me luck. I started working on another short story for another anthology–well, finishing one that’s been moldering in the files for years, but fits a call I saw.

The Tiger Bowl (LSU-Auburn) is this weekend, and it’s always a mixed bag for me. I hate for either team to lose, so inevitably I just hope for a good game. Conference realignment killed the rivalry, since they now no longer play every year, which makes football season a little easier for me, but Auburn has rotated onto LSU’s schedule, and this year the game is at 11 in the morning and is at Jordan-Hare. I suspect when the time for the game to air was decided, no one dreamed both teams would be ranked and have the same record–or that Auburn would pull off the big upset at Georgia last weekend. I do like it–although it feels weird–when LSU is finished playing by three, because the rest of the games don’t really require watching; I usually watch games until the LSU game is over, and whatever is on after that isn’t as important to me to watch. I usually do–for example, was really glad to have watched BYU-Notre Dame last week4. I probably should check the TV schedule; I know Mississippi is at Texas (and damn them for making me root for Texas again), and I think both Missouri and Kentucky have a tough row to hoe. (Correction: Kentucky plays Vanderbilt, and Missouri has a bye.) I’ll probably have the Alabama-A&M game on while I do other things.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Thursday, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning on Work-at-Home Friday. See you then!

This is the ad for Peachy Clean, a gummy that helps you clean out before being penetrated. I am simply amazed at how small his waist is.
  1. I cherish my straight friends. I cherish all of my actual friends, to be honest. I always make it sound like I don’t have any, which isn’t true. But it’s also true that I am not very social, and getting less so all the time. ↩︎
  2. Then there’s the Candace Owens types. We don’t talk about them. ↩︎
  3. See? I do have friends. ↩︎
  4. My family can’t be the only ones who watch Notre Dame games hoping to see them lose, can we? ↩︎

Every One’s a Winner

Congratulations one and all!!!

The Macavity Awards 2026
(for works published in 2025)
The Macavity Awards are nominated and voted on by members of Mystery Readers International, subscribers to Mystery Readers Journal, and friends of MRI. Congratulations to all.

Want to be a member/subscriber, go here. Mystery Readers Journal themes for 2026: Fairs, Fetes, and Festivals; Mysteries set in France; Cross-Genre Mysteries; and Mysteries set in India.

Macavity Winners 2026 (for works published in 2025)

Best Mystery Novel

*Crooks by Lou Berney (William Morrow)

Also nominated:

King of Ashes by S.A. Cosby (Flatiron Books)

Clown Town by Mick Herron (Soho Crime)

River of Lies by James L’Etoile (Oceanview Publishing)

The White Crow by Michael Robotham (Scribner)

All This Could Be Yours by Hank Phillippi Ryan (Minotaur Books)

Best First Mystery

*History Lessons by Zoe B. Wallbrook (Soho Press)

Also nominated:

Savvy Summers and the Sweet Potato Crimes by Sandra Jackson-Opoku (Minotaur Books)

Dead Money by Jakob Kerr (Bantam Books)

Voices of the Elysian Fields by Michael Rigg (Level Best Books)

Stillwater by Tanya Scott (Grove Atlantic)

Best Mystery Nonfiction

*Vacations Can Be Murder: A True Crime Lover’s Travel Guide to New England by Dawn M. Barclay (Level Best Books)

Also nominated:

Blood and the Badge: The Mafia, Two Killer Cops, and a Scandal That Shocked the Nation by Michael Cannell (Minotaur Books)

Murderland: Crime and Bloodlust in the Time of Serial Killers by Caroline Fraser (Penguin Press)

V Is for Venom: Agatha Christie’s Chemicals of Death by Kathryn Harkup (Bloomsbury Sigma)

Edgar Allan Poe: A Life by Richard Kopley (University of Virginia Press)

Cooler than Cool: The Life and Work of Elmore Leonard by C.M. Kushins (Mariner Books)

Best Mystery Short Story

*“Six-Armed Robbery” by Ashley-Ruth M. Bernier (in Donna Andrews Presents Malice Domestic: Mystery Most Humorous, edited by John Betancourt, Carla Coupe, and Michael Bracken, Wildside Press)

Also nominated:

“Hollywood Prometheus” by Christa Faust (in Crime Ink: Iconic: An Anthology of Crime Fiction Inspired by Queer Icons, edited by John Copenhaver and Salem West, Bywater Books)

“Finding Jimmy Baldwin” by Cheryl Head (in Crime Ink: Iconic: An Anthology of Crime Fiction Inspired by Queer Icons, edited by John Copenhaver and Salem West, Bywater Books)

“The Devil Himself” by Vaseem Khan (in Double Crossing Van Dine, edited by Donna Andrews, Greg Herren, and Art Taylor, Crippen & Landru Publishers)

“The Skies Are Red” by Richie Narvaez (in On Fire and Under Water: A Climate Change Crime Fiction Anthology, edited by Curtis Ippolito, Rock and a Hard Place Press)

“Julius Katz Draws a Straight Flush” by Dave Zeltserman (Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, Sept/Oct 2025)

Sue Feder Memorial Historical Mystery

*Bye Bye Blackbird by Elizabeth Crowens (Level Best Books)

Also nominated:

A Daughter’s Guide to Mothers and Murder by Dianne Freeman (Kensington Books)

City Lights by Claire M. Johnson (Level Best Books)

The Case of the Christie Conspiracy by Kelly Oliver (Boldwood Books)

The Case of the Missing Maid by Rob Osler (Kensington Books)

No. 10 Doyers Street by Radha Vatsal (Level Best Books)

Bye Bye Love

It’s now Friday morning with a storm taking aim at the Gulf Coast and I am driving northbound later. I have a benefits meeting on-line this morning before I can load up the car and head out on the highway (looking for adventure) later on. I’ll probably have to drive through rain, but Dad’s going to his high school’s football game so won’t be there until after I arrive (he got in last night). Yesterday was a pretty good day; it’s literally amazing what a difference getting a good night’s sleep can have on a person. I felt good all day, got a lot of stuff done at the office, and then departed to run my errands: food for Paul and the mail. I also picked up two books: Dr. Stacey Patton’s Strung Up: How White America Learned to Lynch Black Children, which is, I am sure, going to be a difficult if necessary read, and The Rush by Nathaniel Philbrick, about the California Gold Rush and the Civil War. I love Philbrick’s work–I do love some excellent history–and while I am trying to only read horror this month…Dr. Patton’s book certainly qualifies as real-life horror, doesn’t it? (And yes, the very first picture on the very first page is of the horribly damaged body of a lynching victim, in all of its horror and nastiness and inhumanity. When I do read and write about Dr. Patton’s book, I will probably call the entry Southern Discomfort.)

Yes, I was tired when I got home last night, dipping into this week’s Real Housewives of Salt Lake City while Sparky dozed deeply in a cat puddle in my lap. I suspect he’s going to miss me all week, but will be very glad to see me when I get home next Friday evening. I still have to pack–I have my annual benefits meeting from work on-line at nine this morning–and then I’ll get to cleaning up and packing. I’m probably taking too much with me to read and/or work on, but…there are worse things than not having enough to read or work on. The storm will come through Alabama where we’ll be tomorrow morning and afternoon; so we’ll probably be indoors watching football games tomorrow morning/afternoon. I’m going to take my time driving, and I am in no rush to leave. It may be rough–I may consider postponing the drive until Sunday morning–but…I think it’ll be okay. I won’t decide this morning–but if I am not here tomorrow morning, it’s because I am up there.

The books I need to read to moderate the panel in Baton Rouge arrived, and I am very intrigued–both are science-fiction young adult novels in series that appear to be space operas, a la Star Wars, which we all know is my jam. I do feel a little unqualified–I don’t think I’ve ever read y/a scifi before–because I am not a big scifi guy; not that I don’t like it, but I read mostly crime fiction. I’ve read the big scifi names–Azimov, Heinlein, the Dune series, etc.–and dabbled a bit in the lesser-knowns, always enjoyed it, and have definitely seen more film in the genre than read books. So, I am going to have to do some research, not only on the genre but my panelists as well, which is always fun, but will also interrupt my horror reading for the month, which I think I will extend into November since my October is being broken up by a trip and by having to read outside of horror. And then it’s Noirmas season!

Hopefully this trip is going to get me to a place where I can read regularly again. I am really looking forward to listening to Shadowlands in the car on the way up there, and then reading some more while I am up in Kentucky this coming week. I’m not sure what the week up there will hold for me–we may go exploring or sight-seeing, as Kentucky is both beautiful and historic; Dad and I went to two Civil War battlefields one time when I was up there, and of course I’ve always wanted to see Henry Clay’s home, and that of his brother–abolitionist Cassius Clay, whom Muhammed Ali was originally named after–which could be fun. I know we’ll probably do some Dad errands, and I’ll get to see my sister.

And I always enjoy the drive back to New Orleans from up there, too.

After further checking the weather, there’s a possibility–a strong one–of flash flooding along 59 north thru Mississippi today when I’d be driving through there, so yeah, going to wait until Sunday morning now–which gives me time to do the packing and cleaning and some errands and so forth. It also means I can have some things delivered tomorrow for Paul and all the pressure of hurrying has been reduced. Heavy sigh. That’s a good thing, and it also gives me more time to get things done before I leave Sunday morning, which is yet another plus.

Which means I will be here again tomorrow morning! So now, I am going to head into my meeting and the spice mines for the rest of the day. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again tomorrow morning! See you then!

I do appreciate that he’s not waxed and completely hairless.

Just What I Needed

Thursday, with Isiais still loping along out there in the Gulf (of MEXICO). Last time I looked, we here in New Orleans are out of the danger zone, or so it seems. I’ve not yet checked this morning, but before I went to bed it was heading in more of a between-Mobile-and-Pensacola landfall, continuing north. As long as I leave New Orleans by one-ish, I should be able to miss any outer bands spinning our way. It will be weird to be in a massive thunderstorm up there in a motel, but probably pretty cozy. OKay, I checked and yes, New Orleans is outside of the cone completely, with that landfall still even further east a bit this morning. The storm won’t get up to where we’re staying until Saturday night, which should make the Georgia-Alabama game messy, to say the least. Should at least be interesting…I also wonder if the storm has changed Palpatine the Incompetent’s mind about attending; every home team he sees play loses, so Bama fans best hope their foul god changes his mind about going.

I finally slept well last night and feel rested and good this morning, at least for the moment. I was very tired yesterday when I got off work, but did manage to run an errand and do some chores when I got home. Tonight I’ll need to start packing for tomorrow–I can’t believe it’s tomorrow already–so hopefully I’ll have a good night’s sleep tonight as well. I got some of the things done on my list that needed to be done before I leave, which was cool–hopefully today I’ll be able to do the same again–and leave town with a clear conscience. Shadowlands is queued up on my Spotify to listen to, and I am going to take some things with me to write/work on while I’m gone, so we can see how that all works out, too. I’m coming back next Friday, so I’ll be gone a week–and pretty much out of pocket for that time; not even sure that I’ll be able to keep this up while I am gone. Maybe I can also get some newsletters out; stranger things have happened.

It is so amazing what a good night’s sleep will do. I feel so good this morning! It may not last of course; sometimes it works out that way. Usually I am already tired going into the work day, but after having restless sleep most of the week, sleeping well made a huge difference. Good thing, because I need to be productive today, both at home and at work. I have to run errands after work tonight, and may have one to run on my way out of town tomorrow morning. I’ve got a list of things to get Paul to eat during my absence, and of course, I don’t want to leave behind a messy apartment to come home to, which always kind of sucks. I also want to do some more editing work before I leave, and work on a short story. We watched another episode of Neagley last night, which was amazing; maybe we can finish it tonight before I leave. We also still haven’t watched the finale of Lanterns yet, which is also amazing; we got so caught up in Neagley that we don’t really want to watch much of anything else until it’s done.

Sigh. I am going to take a lot of stuff with me on this trip, only to end up not doing any of it, aren’t I? But…better to have it with me in case I want to work on it. If I don’t take it, I’ll want to; if I do take it, I won’t. I am also probably packing too many books to take with me, too. I’m not sure what all we’re going to get up to while I’m in Kentucky, but generally I end up not having a lot of time until after eight-ish or so to do anything with; but I should be able to get some of my horror reading out of the way, at the least. I’ll probably finish Shadowlands in the car on the way up, and will probably pick out another horror to listen to on the way home; there’s a few more books in Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield series, which I absolutely love. And I still have to rewatch A Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time since I first saw it back in college.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, heat up my breakfast sandwich, and head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow before I hit the road.

The St. Roch chapel supposedly helps cure the disabled, who then leave their prosthetics behind….

All Mixed Up

Monday and back to the office with me. Friday I am driving up to Alabama to meet Dad to visit Mom for their birthdays, and then I’m following Dad up to Kentucky for a few days. I need the time away from the office, methinks, and it’ll be a nice break. I feel pretty good this morning, all rested and everything–I woke up several times during the night but was able to easily fall back asleep–so we will see how the day goes, won’t we? I was still a bit out of it yesterday, woozy from the shots I suppose, but managed to get some things done despite not having much energy. It was lovely coming downstairs to a clean kitchen this morning, and so hopefully when I get home tonight from work I can empty the dishwasher and reload it. I also didn’t have anything delivered over the weekend–I just couldn’t ask someone to deliver things when I didn’t want to go out in the pouring rain, especially since there was street flooding happening. We’re out of bread, too, so I definitely have to stop tonight. Sigh, it’s always something, isn’t it?

I did manage to get some things done yesterday despite being listless–but I still have a lot to do before I leave on Friday. I added things to the to-do list so I hopefully won’t forget to do anything. I actually felt kind of like I didn’t do much of anything, but…this morning thinking about it, I did do some things. I worked on the book yesterday, which was pleasant and surprisingly fun. Even with the anxiety medication, you see, I still get reluctant to reread work in progress because I’m afraid it will suck and I won’t be able to fix it, and it’s going to mean so much more work…but once I started, it went very well and I actually had fun with it, and made lots of notes and marked it up pretty well. I need to do Chapter 5, and then it will all be caught up and I can move through and fix it all; and then move on the next third of the book. It’s going to be short, and I am getting more and more excited about writing this book and telling this story.

We were in either a flash food warning or watch pretty much the whole day yesterday, and it rained all day, which gave it that lazy feeling I love so much. I did spend some time reading The Dead Zone, and the book is really exceptionally well done. King’s early work is all so amazing, really. He was on a major streak until The Tommyknockers was released, and I really hated that book. I’d have to go through the list of all his books, but I don’t think (off the top of my hand) that any of his post-Tommyknockers work was as good as his pre-Tommyknockers work. I could be wrong, probably am–I did love the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, and especially Holly Gibney.

I still felt low-energy yesterday. My legs and joints ached, and I had a bit of a fever making me uncomfortable. We watched the sixth episode of AHS:13, moved on to The Mandalorian and Grogu, which wasn’t amazing but was entertaining enough; I don’t know why people hated it so much unles people are just really into hating Star Wars nowadays…and then we started Neagley, which is excellent; as good, if not better, than Reacher. Huzzah!

I had to get the ISPN number for Hurricane Season Hustle for the Louisiana Book Festival bookseller, and as always, it’s just easier to get it from Amazon, and I noticed the book has twenty reviews (isn’t that the magic number?) and they average to 4 1/2 stars, which was pleasing to my ego; I don’t ever look because I’d rather not know and I don’t care, really; I don’t need outside validation anymore for my writing. I’m glad people enjoy my work, and i am grateful people do, believe me, but I love Bette Davis’ response: “Other people’s opinions of me are none of my business.” It’s much better that way, really; we can’t care what other people think or say about us when we aren’t around and I don’t want to know. Everyone talks about everyone, it’s human nature and some people enjoy being snarky and bitchy with their gossip; I know I certainly do (although I am usually just listening these days). So, no, it doesn’t bother me when people talk shit about me. And even if someone shares that shit with me, I don’t get upset or angry. How can I when I do the same? I don’t like every book I read or film/television program I watch. If people don’t like my books, I’m sorry you were disappointed, but…there’s nothing I can do about it now so…shrug?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines on this gray gloomy possible drizzly morning in New Orleans. Have a great day, and I will see you again tomorrow morning. Ta!

Let’s get soaking wet!

Impressive Instant

Friday morning and in a bit I am off to the office for a meeting before I run errands on my way home. It has been a pretty decent week, in all honesty. I didn’t sleep as well as I would have preferred, but that happens, and I think I was drinking coffee after twelve noon the last couple of days, which could be the cause. Caffeine and I walk a very thin line together; too much makes me sick, and if I drink any after noon I won’t sleep as well. So it goes in the life of a senior citizen. But I did sleep through the night, and feel pretty rested and good this morning (I think my body doesn’t know I am going to the office in a moment, or maybe the extra hour this morning made a huge difference).

It did rain a bit yesterday (and more so while I slept, given how wet everything outside appears to be), and now that I work in a testing room with a window (it faces Elysian Fields1) the temptation to just sit there and watch the rain is very powerful. I am a sucker for rain, always have been, which is yet another reason I love living in New Orleans. I lived in California for eight years and I can’t even remember it raining there, which was awful. The rains of Houston, where I moved next, were awesome though. Unfortunately, that meant the humidity returned after it stopped and the sun came back out. Wednesday it was in the 80s most of the day, but when I left the office it was pleasant out–meaning no humidity–and it wasn’t hot inside the car, either. I managed to get home and into the house without breaking a sweat, and it’s been months since that last happened.

Well, the always problematic Joyce Carol Oates showed her entire flat, unwashed ass by claiming the only genre where AI would be useful would be romance–which she claimed was formulaic and thus of no value, apparently–which is such a disgusting thing for any woman to say, especially one as famous and respected and praised as Joyce Carol Oates. Way to shit on an entire genre, which is predominantly for women and dominated by women. Surely, Ms. Oates doesn’t mean to imply that she hasn’t written anything formulaic, does she? Because I cannot believe every single thing that has come out of her typewriter has been so completely original and never done or tried before and had has advanced modern literature by breaking new and important literary territory? Or is she just another one of those women who dislike other women? I know some of her buddies are misogynist pigs, and despite all evidence that her buddies are garbage, she proudly stands by them. Probably thinks she’s also a feminist while playing pick-me to be one of the guys. I don’t write romance, but I know a snobby bitch when I see one. I don’t need to boycott her because seeing her clearly as a tool of the patriarchy, I stopped reading her.

And I don’t kiss anyone’s ass, no matter how “powerful” they appear to be. It’s easy to shit on a genre when you’ve never written in it–and frankly, because a HEA is de rigeur, romance writers also excel at character, dialogue and place; no one’s going to read a romance that doesn’t affect their emotions because then it wouldn’t be a romance. I would like to challenge every elitist writer who thinks romance is a joke genre to write one. Let’s see exactly how easy it is, shall we? I remember a few years ago when that South American literary writer wrote a thriller “as a joke” but then published it; shitting all over our genre because, you know, she’s so above it. Turned out mystery fans weren’t going to support a snotty, arrogant elitist bitch anymore than a romance fan would.

I may not write romance, and I don’t read a lot of it. But I have edited a lot of romance novels, I appreciate the skills and talents of romance authors, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for them. I may write one someday, not to see if I can make “easy money” (there’s no such thing in this business), but to see if I can actually do it well. I like challenging myself when I write, and I think writing a romance would be a great challenge for me. Someday. I need to finish the current book and write another Scotty before I start the horror novel I’m itching to start writing.

You come for the romance genre through me, bitch.

I didn’t do much around here last night when I got home because I was tired. I came straight home and crashed out immediately into my chair with Sparky in my lap, and I just kind of zoned out with the news–both national and football. Today is my last full day in the office for the week–we have an in-person meeting tomorrow morning–but the good news is the house isn’t in bad shape, and so won’t take me long this weekend to set to rights. I am dragging a bit this morning, which is to be expected on a Thursday morning, right? I slept pretty well the last two nights and have no trouble getting up in the mornings, but I remain a bit tired throughout the day, and maybe not as alert as I would like by the time I get home every night? Thursday nights usually are nights when I don’t do much of anything; but I do have to get up early tomorrow for the meeting. I need to get back to work on writing fiction–the book and some other short stories, but it’s the newsletter essays I’ve been enjoying writing the most lately, which is odd–but I also think writing those is helping me improve on my skills.

Yesterday was also October 1st and the official start of Halloween Horror Month, when most of my reading and streaming will (and should be) horror. I definitely want to watch Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street again, and maybe pick up on some new ones. I really wish Friday the 13th-the Series was available to stream somewhere, because I’d love to watch it all again; I don’t think I ever saw the entire show. But the antique store of cursed objects–and having to track the objects down before they start killing people–was a most excellent concept, and while the show was done on the cheap–it was syndicated back before money was put into syndicated shows–the few episodes I’ve been able to track down on Youtube are a bit hokey, but there’s still a lot of fun to watch. I love dedicating the entire month to horror; even my juvenile rereads this month will have to do with hauntings, methinks. I think AHS:13 airs its entire season by the end of October, which is nice. It’s also weird to think next Friday I’ll be heading up to Alabama for Mom and Dad’s birthdays, and then up to Kentucky for the rest of that following week. This month is going to fly by, isn’t it? And then it’s November and then Christmas and then Mardi Gras and it’s March before I know it.

And ugh, I agreed to moderate a panel at the Louisiana Book Festival, so I have to do two things up there this year. Given the cost of gas, more bang for my buck is probably a good thing. I’ll probably end up going up on Friday and spending the night; there’s an opening party that night I usually skip, but I’d rather do that then get up early Saturday and drive up there…which means booking a room. Add that to my lengthy to-do list.

The local New Orleans gay community is up in arms over something I cannot really speak to without making the following disclaimer: I do not speak for my day job, I am not authorized to speak on behalf of my day job, and I am speaking here solely as myself–Greg Herren, the local gay author who has lived here for over thirty years, moving here before there was life-saving treatment for HIV. If you want to see what’s going on, feel free to go on Facebook and look at either the Queer New Orleans page or certain Quarter bars. I can’t speak on the situation and again do not speak for the agency where I work, but I would like to thank the local gay community for your support and the pushback against the businesses attacking us. I forget sometimes how important we are to the community here, how much good we’ve done (and continue to do), and how much the community actually appreciates us. I thank you, and the supportive commentary I’ve seen was touching–and you know how cold and dead inside I am.

And you know, even if I didn’t work where I do, I would also be grateful to my agency. As a sixty-five year old gay man who lived through the worst of the plague days, I have nothing but respect and appreciation for any organization that does HIV work. Anyone who doesn’t? Absolute trash–and if they ever seroconverted, you can bet your ass they’d be beating down our doors2 for our help.

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

  1. The street, not the land of the heroic dead. ↩︎
  2. And this, for the record, is why you never fucking hire straight people to run gay businesses. Period. ↩︎

Runaway Lover

Thursday and it’s not my last day in the office for the week; I have a department meeting tomorrow that I need to come in for. I may stay for a few hours after and do some work here, but on the other hand I may just get back in the car and head home. I guess we’ll see how I feel, but it would be incredibly convenient to get all my errands out of the way. We’re supposed to start getting rain from Polo tomorrow, and continue with flooding rains all weekend…so I am not going to want to leave the house that often. I do have to go get my vaccines Saturday morning–I figured if they make me woozy again like they always do, it’s better to be home. LSU’s game is against McNeese State Saturday night–their fifth night game in a row–and I think a lot of the other games this season will be at night again. All the media alarm bells after the Mississippi loss subsided with the trouncing of Texas A&M last week, but…the remaining schedule remains brutal.

Well, Sparky closed my browser for me (thanks, babe!) and I lost three paragraphs of this entry which I will now try to reconstruct. Sigh.

I was tired when I got home from work yesterday, Sparky was needy, and I just needed to sit for a minute last night before doing anything, but I got sucked into the news–both national and football–and several wormholes (is it just me, but are Youtube videos becoming more and more AI-generated?) opened up for me before I switched over to this HBO documentary series about Warner Brothers–and old Hollywood stuff always works as research for the book. I went to bed shortly after that, and didn’t do a damned bit of chores at all. The apartment is still pretty well kept-up, but there’s some cosmetic cleaning that needs doing, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and reloaded again, and there’s another load of laundry that needs doing, too. I’ll have to take care of some of that tonight so this weekend I can primarily focus on writing and deeper cleaning issues (baseboards, etc.). The house is also currently being painted, so much as I would like to go outside in this cooler clime to clean the windows…probably not going to happen until the house is finished being painted. (I have to negotiate an obstacle course most days when I get home to get into the house.)

Today is also the first day of Halloween Horror Month, in which I try to make sure all my reading and streaming needs are horror-related. I know I am going to revisit Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street–always excellent choices–and it’s always fun to dip into horror, which I need to read more of. I am going to listen to Shadowland by Peter Straub on my trip next Friday to Alabama/Kentucky–can you believe it’s next week already? I can’t–and will take some other horror along to read while I am up there. I am going to start reading The House That Horror Built, and I think on the way home i may listen to a Grady Hendrix novel.

I also need to get back to writing, either on short stories or on the book. I’ve been focusing a lot on writing nonfiction–the newsletters–and while I have really been enjoying doing that (and my writing is improving, which is always a delightful thing), I need to get back on the fiction horse. I’ve kind of been letting my creativity recharge, after finishing that story last weekend, but I definitely need to be climbing back into the saddle again. Maybe tomorrow, during the rains. We’re supposed to get up to five inches over the next few days–but we shouldn’t have any flooding concerns if the rain is spread out. Five inches in two hours or less and the city is underwater.

And on that note, methinks I shall head into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely Friday Eve, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before my meeting. See you then!

My God, Alan Ritchson is just ridiculously handsome.

I Deserve It

It’s very difficult to market books about social issues. How do you promote something like that without looking like you’re trying to cash in on a tragedy, or some horrific real world incident? I don’t urge people to read Murder in the Rue Chartres every time a hurricane threatens Louisiana/New Orleans, nor do I ever try to piggyback promotion of the book which talks about the Upstairs Fire with the tragedy’s anniversary, or any time the fire comes up on social media. I don’t like the idea of capitalizing on tragedy for capitalism. It makes me uncomfortable, and while I don’t judge people for doing that, it doesn’t sit right with me.

Yesterday, I wrote and sent out a newsletter inspired by the breaking news about the mishandled Cornell gang-rape situation. Rape is something I have always felt strongly about–against, for the record–because it’s such a bodily violation. Having something shoved inside you without your consent–it sends a shudder through my body and turns my stomach whenever I think about it. So, I talked about the book I wrote about a similar situation happening in a fictional Midwestern town with a strong high school sports culture. My intent wasn’t to promote the book, which would be a shitty thing to do; the intent was to call more attention to the fact this isn’t something new; the book is OLD. I started writing it in 2015, after Steubenville and Marysville. Almost immediately after I hit post and share, I saw someone on social media bitching about people using this Cornell gang-rape (call it by its real name) to promote their “shitty book1s.” I knew that was a risk I was running by talking about my book in the context of why I wrote it (I had started writing the essay originally after the on-line Rape Academy expose by CNN), but after I blocked her, I shrugged. If she wants to assign that kind of blame to an essay I wrote about rape culture through the context of a novel I wrote about it and why, so be it. Go ahead and put me on your “no-read” list; I’ll put you on my “blocked as a bitch” list. See how that works?

Congratulations on your purity, ma’am.

Although I guess hit dogs do holler. The reason I reacted so strongly was because I was concerned people would think that was what I was doing, and anxiety medication aside, I somehow still feel a need to justify that newsletter. The woman probably wasn’t even talking about me–she just popped up, unasked for, on one of my feeds. It’s a free country and she’s welcome to express herself however she wants to–but I am not required to see, read or interact with her on any level.

And frankly, if people are looking for more information on how bad the sexual assault horrors are–well, authors might be thinking hey, you may want to read this for my research. I researched the fuck out of this over the many years I spent working on my book, but I would also direct people to Jon Krakauer’s Missoula, which examines the relationship between college athletics and sweeping rapes under the rug to protect players. LSU has had these problems over the years–it’s part of the package of why Les Miles was fired as football coach (although the cover-ups were okay as long as the team was winning at the national level), and there’s a rapist on campus today who is on the football team.

But all of this did make me think more about the marketing aspect of publishing, and how I’ve never been good at doing it.

I generally don’t talk about my books with an air to selling them to people; I don’t, as I made clear in my essay, selling books is generally the last thing I think about when it comes to my books. (Nothing bugs me more than when someone says “sell me your book!”) I don’t know how to talk about them in ways that will sell them; a manager I had in my twenties told me “you could sell ice to Eskimoes2” but that was just me being me, you know? I know I’m supposed to use every tool at my disposal to market myself and my books but that isn’t something I’ve ever been comfortable doing; to me, it’s cringe. I always think nobody cares and so I talk about my work and my writing in ways that I find interesting. I can’t write something if I’m not interested in it, and that usually isn’t an issue; I can almost always find something interesting (to me, at any rate) in most subjects…but I never, ever set out to write a blog or a newsletter with the thought this will sell me some books.

My mind isn’t wired that way. I guess other people’s must be? But I also don’t see the issue with writing about a societal problem through the lens of having researched the topic and being moved to write a novel to share these stories with people. I didn’t say buy this book, but rather I wrote this book and this is why I did, and the lifelong education on the subject that led me to write it, to try to make sense of something that is completely alien to me.3

I also wasn’t raised to “sing out Louise”4. Being raised to be modest and not accept compliments hasn’t been easy for me to process out of my brain/psyche, but I am getting better about it. But if you always downplay your achievements and successes, why would anyone else play them up? I also had that terrible anxiety-driven “pick me” bullshit going on, too; there’s nothing wrong with tooting your own horn so long as you don’t make it your entire personality, as so many seem to do. There’s a happy medium in there where I can live and exist, and I hope that someday I’ll be able to find that place where I can feel comfortable. One can hope, at any rate, right?

There was definitely a clown show on Capital Hill yesterday, and good ole Cornpone Kennedy had his stupid ass in it up to his neck. MAGA is such a joke; they are so not serious, but they are just as dangerous as a manic three year old on a massive sugar high who got into his parents’ gun cabinet. Thank God they are all so stupid and inept and incompetent; it’s like we got the Hogan’s Heroes brand of fascists here. Imagine if they were as smart as they are evil.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader and I will check back with you tomorrow.

This photo, from the aftermath of the California fires, never ceases to amaze me.
  1. Anyone dismissing any group of books as “shitty” is always going to get my ire up. ↩︎
  2. Is that offensive now? If so, my apologies, but it’s a direct quote. ↩︎
  3. It did occur to me while I was writing the essay that the reason women have always felt comfortable around me is they somehow sense I’m not interested. ↩︎
  4. A friend of mine says this Gypsy quote all the time, and there is something to it. If you don’t talk well about yourself, who will? ↩︎

Nobody’s Perfect

Tuesday morning and we survived Monday, did we not? It wasn’t a terrible day. WE were busier than usual in the clinic, so the day passed relatively quickly. I also made an appointment to get my flu and COVID shots for the year for this Saturday; if I am going to react to them, what better way to do so then in my easy chair while watching college football and dipping some more into The Dead Zone? That will also get me out of the house on Saturday, so I may as well run other errands while I am out. I have an in-person meeting Friday, so I am probably going to do all my hours in the office–at least, that’s what I am thinking today; that may change between now and then. Paul went to the gym last night shortly after I got home, so when he got home from that we queued up this week’s Lanterns, which was wild; I really do enjoy this show and not just because Aaron Pierre and Kyle Chandler are very good looking men. It doesn’t hurt, though; I’m not saying that! But it’s very well written, acted, and produced; perhaps the best DC television series I’ve ever seen (I may not be remembering some others, but I don’t think so). I slept very well last night and feel a bit Tuesday-ish this morning, but not terribly bad.

I checked the call for submissions for the story I finished over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised to see the deadline isn’t Thursday, but rather the 31st. That relieves some of the pressure to get it finished and polished, but doesn’t mean I should wait until the last minute, either. I know there are tense and point of view issues with it, so what I am thinking is I should let it sit until this weekend–something else I can do in case I have a reaction to the shots is edit the hard copy with post-it notes and a yellow highlighter. (Yes, I am old school.) I am also glad I checked because the word limit is four thousand, not five. The story checks in now at 4126 words, so it needs tightening for sure. I also got caught up on emails yesterday, which was a very lovely thing. I don’t know why I am so reluctant to deal with emails these days, but I imagine it has everything to do with the hundreds of emails I used to get weekly: who knew volunteer work came with PTSD? I sure didn’t.

I know now. Lesson learned. I eventually always figure it out; it may take me years, but I do.

Today is a slow one in the clinic, so I should be able to get caught up on administrative details. I can also tell I’m feeling better, physically and mentally, because I am keeping up with my paperwork and everything. I finally have a system, and it works beautifully; much better than the disorganized and inefficient way I was doing it–and it was, indeed, a rut I felt into while I wasn’t in top form and just surviving every day (I don’t longingly dream of retirement anymore, either), which was a deeply unpleasant way to live.

I also scheduled a newsletter for this morning; you can click here to read it. I have been working on this one for a very long time; it’s about the incidents that led to me writing #shedeservedit, and what I was trying to do with the book. The Cornell situation pushed me back to the essay and I finished it; I held off on sending it out because I didn’t want anyone to think I was trying to promote the book off the back of that poor victim, but talking about the book and why I wrote it isn’t promoting it; it’s about exploring a major societal issue we don’t seem terribly interested in solving: men’s entitled expectations towards women’s bodies: an unconscious woman isn’t an invitation for rape.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

Don’t Tell Me

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and I feel…slacker-ish this morning for some reason. Yesterday was a simply lovely day, from beginning to end, and I did manage to get some things done. Paul went to a show last night in the Quarter–a work thing–and so I was here all by my lonesome after about half-time or so of the LSU game (they won; GEAUX TIGERS!), and there were a lot of interesting games and outcomes yesterday, too. I did some reading, some writing, and some cleaning, and somehow wound up staying up later than I’d intended. I also got up later this morning than usual; but that’s also on me. The Saints play this afternoon, and I need to run to make groceries at some point this morning, too, but that’s not a big deal. I just need to get motivated.

Good luck with that, Gregalicious.

As I mentioned, LSU won, beating Texas A&M handily 35-6. It was only 14-3 at halftime, but again the Tigers had a big third quarter and put the game away. The defense looked impressive, and the offense misfired a few times, but overall, the Tigers looked dominant. We also don’t know how good or bad Texas A&M is this season (they lost to Kentucky in College Station last week)–but we also don’t know about Mississippi, either, after Florida embarrassed them in Gainesville yesterday 52-28 (!!!). Auburn beat Vanderbilt, and I caught the end of the Mississippi State-Missouri game, which MSU won with a strong defensive stand in the fourth quarter. I watched Texas-Tennessee, which came down to the last play, and Georgia embarrassed Oklahoma (shame) while Alabama buried South Carolina. I also caught the highlights of Iowa winning at Michigan and Wisconsin surprising Penn State. Overall, a very exciting day of college football. LSU takes a break from the SEC next weekend, playing McNeese State, while there are some other great games, too. I do love college football.

And yes, yesterday morning during the battle of the orange-and-white UT’s, I finished the first draft of my story, which pleased me to no end. It’s about forty-one hundred words, but they are mostly good words, and now I need to edit and revise. Again, it’s a very long shot, but I do enjoy writing, and it’s always nice to make very good progress on something. I may do some editing this morning after I post this and before I summon the energy and motivation to actually make the grocery list and head to the store. I also need to order some things to be delivered this morning, too.

While I mostly managed to avoid the news yesterday, I did occasionally check in on social media to see what was going on and that’s when I came across the horrific story of the Cornell 7….remind me about the masculinity crisis again? The real masculinity crisis lies in how they treat women, and so many of them fail. Cannot IMAGINE why so many women would choose the bear, can you? It’s hilarious, I’ve been trying to work my way into my newsletter essay about masculinity and my failures to be the traditional male in this patriarchical society and finally realize something about myself while reading up on the Cornell horror (and yes, there’s a rapist on the LSU football team–which is appalling–but I am not talking about that case because I’ve not had a chance to “do my own research,”–but I fail to see any research or reading that would make LSU look good, frankly)–the reason I didn’t feel particularly boy-oriented was because I never understood why we weren’t supposed to like girls at all, and that didn’t change after puberty, either, when girls were reduced to their breasts, ass, and fuckability, which is also part of the reason I wrote #shedeservedit, and now I have some more things to discuss there. (And no, I’m not saying my view of women wasn’t curdled by exposure to male-centering and women-dismissal; I’ve said and behaved in ways towards women that are toxic, but I learned and would like to believe I’ve unlearned a lot of my upbringing and social pressuring.)

I spent some more time yesterday with The Dead Zone, and John Smith is one of my favorite Stephen King characters. I am remembering, too, while I reread how much I’ve always loved this novel and how big of a fan I used to be (not getting into it now, or maybe ever), and that incredible run of great novels he had from Carrie through Misery. Maybe I should revisit another one, too? It’s been a while since I’ve revisited Firestarter….

I was reminded yesterday also about Richard Speck. He murdered nurses in Chicago when I was five years old, and I remember the horror vividly (I also remember when the news broke about Sharon Tate and the other victims on Cielo Drive in the Hollywood Hills). I’ve never read up on the Speck murders, but I read Helter Skelter as a teenager and it was terrifying–I’ve generally avoided reading anything else on the Manson family since. I remember, in both cases, how upset my mother was–a rural country girl living in Chicago with generalized anxiety disorder–and again wonder how much it must have terrified her when we weren’t home. Mothers worry, of course, but I wish I’d known when she was alive about the anxiety; I would have worked harder to ease her mind. (I also believe the anxiety shortened her life, but…she did make it to eighty-one.) Does anyone know of any good books or writing about Speck?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and GEAUX SAINTS!