Tag: books

Maybe It Was Memphis

Maybe it wasn’t?

Sunday here in the Lost Apartment, and all is well. LSU won, 13-10, not a particularly impressive showing. (Tulane also won, GO WAVE!) The games yesterday weren’t exciting or interesting, so after Paul got up we alternated between games and other things (more on that later). It was a very nice relaxing day, over all. I did run some errands in the morning, but after I got home that was it; no more outside for me this weekend. It was actually in the 80s yesterday, too. I didn’t do much cleaning around here yesterday, either, and the kitchen is a total mess (because I made Shrimp Creole last night for dinner) which I will need to clean up at some point this morning. I also didn’t read much yesterday, either; something I need to rectify this morning. I mean, it is a real messy mess. Yikes.

I dropped off four boxes of books to the library sale yesterday morning, and yes, this pruning of the books had helped de-clutter the living room, and I also came across some books I’d forgotten that I had–juvenile mysteries, amongst other things–which was also kind of cool. I’m planning to do another round of pruning once I get back from the trip (but probably not next weekend; I’m going to spend Sunday recovering from the drive); progress! I also want to start working on the storage attic. I know, the non-stop rollercoaster thrill ride of my life is almost too much to read about, isn’t it?

But I came across copies from a juvenile series, Ken Holt, that I really loved when I was a kid (still one of my favorites; it’s a toss-up between this series and The Three Investigators) and while paging through one of the copies (The Secret of Hangman’s Inn) I remembered how incredibly homoerotic the series was, particularly the relationship between Ken and his best friend, Sandy Allen–they are often around each other in varying stages of undress, including nude, for one example–and often share rooms and beds. There’s definitely an essay for the newsletter about this series, its homoeroticism, and how well the books are actually written. They all have a hard-boiled, noir-ish aesthetic that I loved. They were shot at with real ammunition, had to outwit and out think criminals, and since they were journalists (despite being so young) Ken’s write-ups of their cases and Sandy’s photos often went into syndication. Not bad for a pair of eighteen-year-olds! I also think this series is why I kind of wanted to be a journalist when I first went to college–but that is also a story for another time.

I didn’t write anything on the computer yesterday, but I did spend a lot of time writing in my journal. I also went back and reread my current one from the start, picking up on notes and ideas and thoughts about several things I am working on. I came across some excellent notes for Chlorine, for example, and as I reread my notes (just from this journal) I recognized something–part of the problem I am having with writing further into the book is base premise that starts the book doesn’t really work or make sense; the stakes aren’t high enough for my main character to get involved to begin with, and so I have to amp them up, kill my darlings, and maybe start over. I get very stubborn about throwing stuff out that I’ve already written, but those chapters are salvageable, kind of; I may be able to use the bits and pieces, but I am going to dive into it, headfirst, in December with the goal of getting a first draft finished by the end of the year. Stubbornness about your work is not a good quality for an author to have.

I also got my contributor copy of Celluloid Crimes, which ironically has the short story I adapted from Chlorine’s first chapter, “The Last To See Him Alive,” which is still a good story and I do love that title an awful lot. It’s always nice to see your work in actual print in a book, you know?

Around the games we watched some of the skating from Cup of Finland, this week’s season finale of The Morning Show, and a lot of the news shows. I am still processing the Friday news; the bromance in the Oval with FOTUS basically rolling over on his back and showing Zohran Mamdani his belly, and it may take me a while longer to wrap my head around the devolution of the MAGA movement into fascism and Nazism with the embrace of Nick Fuentes, the gay Latino Nazi, which makes no sense to me but I’ve never understood people who lick the boots on their own throats.

I am also really enjoying Ken Burns’ The American Revolution, which at least is honest and doesn’t really get into any of the weird national mythology we’ve built up around our history–basically to erase any wrong-doing and eradicate any questioning of the endless justifications for stealing an entire continent from its inhabitants. The Americas weren’t discovered and colonized; they were actually conquered, in a mass genocide that lasted centuries. US History and the American Revolution were actually my gateways into my lifelong obsession and interest in history; watching this series is reminding me of how I went from US History to English history to European history, with some dabbling in the ancients (Egypt, Greece, Rome); I really should have majored in History, the primary problem being picking a particular period to specialize in. As I said the other day, I should have majored in History with a minor in creative writing, and I could have become a historian like Barbara Tuchman; her A Distant Mirror remains one of my favorite histories and served as an inspiration for my idea to write a popular history of the sixteenth by focusing on women holding power…that century remains an outlier in Europe when it comes to powerful women and queens. I am probably going to write an essay about my interest in US History, and one about my interest in ancient Egypt.

And on that note, I am going to take my coffee into the living room to see if any more news has broken since I went to bed last night, after which I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

The temple at Edfu, Egypt

18 Wheels and a Dozen Roses

Monday morning and back to the office with me today. I slept well last night and feel alive and awake this morning, so huzzah for that at any rate. I don’t know how busy we are today in the clinic, but it’s just me for now and going forward for I don’t know how long and so I don’t know how tired I will be getting this week at work, either. Meh, we’ll see how it all goes, won’t we? It was a nice weekend of not getting a lot done, which is okay. I felt drained yesterday, and very low energy, so mostly spent the day in my chair with Sparky watching research videos1; I also made a lot of notes in my journal, which is always a good thing. I wasn’t particularly motivated, either. I also read for a while into my Donna Andrews book, but wasn’t really able to focus a lot and thus didn’t read much, but it was a nice start. Maybe this week and this weekend I can get the book finished; I can also take it with me on the trip to finish, if need be. It’s hard to believe that next week is actually Thanksgiving already, and time for my lengthy drive up north. Heavy sigh. But it’ll be very nice to be up there, methinks, and despite the inevitable exhaustion and fatigue that will come from said drive, I’ll enjoy spending time with Dad.

And I am not going to worry about writing or doing anything while I am up there, other than reading and resting and relaxing….since that is all that ever happens when I am up there. Which is not a bad thing, I am learning that taking down time to recalibrate and rest and recharge my batteries WITHOUT GUILT is actually necessary, and I am tired of beating myself up all the time because I am not more driven than I already am, you know? One of my goals for this year was to be kinder to myself, and that’s kind of going fairly well. I still slip back into the old, self-defeating mentality every once in a while, though, but it’s not a daily thing and not being anxious all the time is also kind of nice.

I’ve also been paging through The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey, and remembering now how stupid the whole thing was when I first read the book when I was in my teens and soaking up conspiracy theories and strange history2; for Lindsey’s writings and interpretations to be correct, they are predicated on two things: one, you have to believe the Bible is literal truth, and that not a single word in it was ever changed over millennia. Considering the original Christian schism (Rome v. Constantinople) was about the West adding words to the Bible…(the filioque controversy) so yeah, that shows Lindsey’s theories, conclusions, interpretations and writings begin with a logical fallacy, and thus, can they really be believed at this point? Please remember that some of his writings in the 1960s have since, all claims to the contrary, been proven false. There’s going to be an absolutely marvelous essay coming out of this revisiting, as part of my essay series on religion.

We also watched more episodes of Lazarus last night, leaving the finale for tonight. I am really enjoying the show, and it is all making so much more sense to me than it was initially; I don’t know how the supernatural aspects of the story are going to be explained, but it’s a fun show to watch, with plenty of marvelous twists and surprises. Not sure what is up for our next binge, but I want to watch Frankenstein before leaving for my trip. LSU plays Western Kentucky this weekend, which may not even be televised, and I am not really sure about other big games coming on this weekend. I am still kind of in shock that Alabama lost to Oklahoma again for the second year in a row, and if they don’t make the playoffs again, their coach is going to be in a very warm chair. There’s a lot of talk swirling about Lane Kiffen leaving Mississippi for either LSU or Florida, but I don’t see it, honestly. Both states have shitty governors and legislators who have no problem with sticking their fingers into the flagship university’s affairs, and he pretty much has free rein up in Oxford. (I stand corrected; LSU is playing Saturday night at the same time as Florida-Tennessee.) It’ll be interesting, I guess.

We also watched the ice dance and women’s finals for Skate America yesterday, which was pretty cool. I think we’re going to field a pretty good Olympic team in figure skating this cycle.

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

  1. Saw a really excellent one about the 1054 Christian schism, when Roman Catholicism divorced Eastern Orthodoxy. I also saw some interesting videos about the birth of Zionism and how the current Middle Eastern problems initially developed, and it always goes back to Rome, doesn’t it? ↩︎
  2. This isn’t the only “conspiracy theory” style book I read and saw the flaws in said theory immediately; I also thought Erich von Daniken’s work and Holy Grail Holy Blood (the basis for The Da Vinci Code, for the record) were full of holes, as were Graham Hancock’s….and I was just a teenager. ↩︎

Chiseled in Stone

And it’s Sunday morning again, and Sparky was rather insistent on being fed this morning, so I am up earlier than I have been the rest of the weekend. Which is fine, I feel rested and good this morning. I didn’t get nearly as much done yesterday as I would have liked, of course; but I did do some chores and read for a little bit, which was nice. It was a mellow day, really, and I ran my errand in the morning, cooked out for the afternoon, and so have some writing and reading and cleaning to do today. I hate when LSU plays a noon game, because the rest of the day afterwards seems so long…LSU did win, beating 2-8 Arkansas by one (!) point in Baton Rouge. The game seemed kind of dull to me, but I wasn’t ensconced in my chair during the game with my blood pressure elevating. I might rewatch it at some point this morning, or have it on while I read. Alabama lost a shocker to Oklahoma at home yesterday, and Georgia humiliated Texas last night–Mississippi depending on a lot of luck to beat Florida. It’s been a hot minute, too, since a team beat Alabama in back-to-back years. I imagine their coach is under fire this morning.

I downloaded another audiobook for the drive to Kentucky next week; I got the third Mary Russell novel by MWA Grand Master Laurie R. King, A Letter of Mary, and I am very excited to listen to it. Her Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes series is magnificent, and an excellent replacement for one of my favorite series of all time, Elizabeth Peters’ Amelia Peabody1 series. Mary’s voice and character remind me of my beloved Peabody, it’s almost like getting another book by the late Ms. Peters. I’ve loved everything I’ve read that Laurie writes; again, just like Peters. I also have a shit ton of audiobooks on my phone I’ve not listened to (why do I hoard books in every form in which they appear? Why am I like this?); but I like the idea of listening to King on the way up and Donna Andrews (whose Meg also reminds me of Peabody2) on the way back. That sounds like an absolutely delightful plan to me, at any rate. I also need to get braced for the cold.

We also watched the rhythm dance competition for Skate America; we’ll probably watch the free dance and the men’s final this afternoon. I also would love to get back to Lazarus, and am thinking about watching this new Frankenstein. But I also need to get some reading and writing, and get caught up on the news. It’s interesting watching Fox and the White House and their allies turning on each other, isn’t it? Explaining why fifteen isn’t as bad as five or eight for child rape? So much evil and nastiness being exposed to the disinfecting power of sunlight at long last. Can we at least stop ceding the moral high ground to the child rapist party? When this menace and disaster are finally over, there needs to be some serious accountability…or the cycle will begin all over again. There should have been tribunals after the Civil War, and there should have been again after civil rights and integration. It does not speak well of our country that we never want to deal with accountability…and seriously, there should have been hearings after we dropped two atomic bombs on Japan.3

I really get angry when I think about how the public school system of the 1960s indoctrinated me into American exceptionalism, and how it’s taken up so much of my time as an adult unlearning that bullshit. But at least I recognized that I needed to rethink much of everything I was taught to believe growing up; which so many never, ever do.

And that’s another newsletter essay, isn’t it? Heavy sigh.

Sorry this is so brief, but there really isn’t much to report this morning. So I am going to go to my chair with my coffee and read for a bit while catching up on the news, and then I am going to clean and write. Have a lovely Sunday, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

Pharaoh Akhenaten, the heretic
  1. I really need to do a newsletter about Elizabeth Peters/Barbara Michaels. ↩︎
  2. I really should also do a newsletter about those three women. ↩︎
  3. To this day, we remain the only nation to use weapons of mass destruction on another. We really cannot climb onto the moral high horse with anyone, can we? ↩︎

Heartbroke

Good morning to you, and how are we all feeling this lovely Saturday morning? Sparky let me sleep in a bit this morning, for which I am eternally grateful; it’s weird how he’ll try at first, but if the alarm doesn’t go off, he’ll just cuddle and wait. He really is a darling, isn’t he? I was thinking yesterday evening as he slept in my lap. Yesterday was a nice day, really. I got my meetings out of the way and did my work before my errands and some cleaning and reading. We started watching Harlan Coben’s Lazarus on Prime last night, and it’s very interesting and very different than Harlan’s other work. I like the idea of a psychiatrist losing his father and then starting to see ghosts of murder victims that his father saw as patients, and then sees his own father, who tells him he didn’t commit suicide but was murdered. Very enthralling and interesting, I must say.

LSU plays this morning; I believe the start time is 11:45. They’re playing Arkansas at home, and who knows how that will go? There are other interesting games to have on in the background (Alabama-Oklahoma could be interesting), but I also want to make progress on things today and at least finish cleaning the house. I have to run an errand this morning in a little bit, but other than that I’m not planning on leaving the house again until Monday. It was stunningly gorgeous yesterday, and is again today from the looks of things, which is marvelous.

I picked up three books I’d ordered: Without Consent by Sarah Weinman; More Adventures of the Mad Scientists’ Club by Bertrand R. Brinley, and The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsey. Sarah Weinman is one of the finest writers in our genre, and her nonfiction works–which study, through the lens of crime and the judicial system, the gradual rise of women’s rights and equality in this country. This, about the Rideout case, and protecting women from spousal rape, is going to be a very intense read. The Brinley is a sequel to one of my favorite juvenile books from the Scholastic Book Club, The Mad Scientists’ Club, which I’ve never forgotten but didn’t know there was more than just the one book in the series, so it should be very fun to read. The Lindsey is something I remember reading as a kid that I kind of wanted to revisit, with all the missed raptures of the last few years as well as an example of End Times mythology; it may have been one of the first books about this that may have ever been published. As a suburban Chicago teenager I was very interested in the occult and unexplained mysteries, which there seem to have been a lot of back in the day. Was the 1970s the heyday of bizarre conspiracy theory? Between this and the “ancient aliens” bullshit (and we must never forget the Bermuda Triangle and Area 51, either) it seemed like that was an intense decade for conspiracy theorists. (I also found a copy of Stranger Than Science on ebay during the shutdown…)

The Lindsey is the basis for my first entry (or the second) on religion for my newsletter, and how there probably could be no The Omen without it. See, I am making progress on the newsletters! One thing I definitely want to get this weekend is the two ongoing essay series for the newsletter (religion and masculinity) organized, as well as working on the background for Chlorine and finishing the first draft of “A Holler Full of Kudzu,” which will undoubtably either turn into a novella and perhaps even a short novel (I am not pushing that, though).

And on that note, I need to get going on the day. Have a terrific Ides of November, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

Thursday, and my last day in the office for the week. There are, of course, meetings tomorrow morning, but after those have passed, I can do my data entry and quality assurance before relaxing and diving into Between a Flock and a Hard Place, which I am really looking forward to. I did get a little tired yesterday afternoon–more sleepy than fatigued, though, which is different and better. I made groceries on the way home–not much–and did some straightening once I got home, so the kitchen doesn’t look like a hurricane went through here and the counters are cleared. I have errands to run tonight after work, too–but it’s the last day for me in the office before the weekend, and the last day of the pay period, so I get to leave early thanks to accumulated time.

Paul didn’t get home last night until after I went to bed, so I spent the evening sitting in my easy chair with Sparky sleeping in my lap while I caught up on the news of the day–and I woke up this morning to even more fallout from yesterday’s news. This Epstein thing is going to be really bad, which is why the powerful and the rich have done their damnedest to bury every last bit of it. Ghislaine Maxwell lied to the DOJ to cover for the president and got moved to a country club prison, for one thing–we knew it before, but now there’s incontrovertible proof she lied, and only the MAGA-iest of his supporters could possibly believe anything the clown says about anything from now on…or how quickly MAGA loses interest in pursuing actual pedophiles now that their foul lord and master is so damnably implicated now (which we on the left always knew) that there’s no getting away from it–and the Supreme Court’s gift naming him the Very Special Boy who can commit crimes as long as he calls them official acts–doesn’t fucking apply here. Wompity wompity womp womp.

And we really need to make “but his emails” a thing now.

I didn’t have any trouble getting out of bed this morning–I even forgot to set the alarm, but Sparky woke me up anyway–and while I do feel a bit of fatigue in my legs, it’s bearable. I am sure I am going to hit the wall this afternoon before I leave to run my errands (groceries, mail, prescriptions) after work, but that’s fine. All I need to do is refluff the clothes in the dryer and fold them to put away, empty and reload the dishwasher, and maybe–maybe–do some other cleaning work before sitting in my chair with Sparky and Donna’s book and reading for a bit before Paul comes home and we try to get caught up on our shows. I also want to watch the new Frankenstein movie; I was never really a fan of any of those films (other than Young Frankenstein, which is still one of the funniest movies ever made), so I am not going into it with any bias. I originally read the book (along with Dracula) as a teenager and found them both to be a bit…boring. I reread them sometime around the turn of the century and found myself really enjoying them more, and Frankenstein1 the book? I preferred it to any of the films I’d seen as a child; perhaps I should revisit those old classics from the 1930s again. Funny how, when revisiting horror last month for Halloween, I primarily focused on slasher movies like Scream rather than going back to the original classics from Universal, isn’t it? I think I need to watch horror more broadly next October, and should make a list. The Uninvited would be a good choice, methinks—and I have a copy of the book, so I can read it and watch the movie!

Huzzah!

I’m also, due to the lack of fatigue, getting better organized and getting more things done. I am on my game at the day job for the first time since I had COVID in the summer of 2022, which is cool (I like being good at my job, you know). I’m hoping to get some more writing done before Monday, and to make some progress on getting ready to finish the first draft of Chlorine. It really sucked these last few years not being in the right mental space to write and enjoy it; it’s seemed like an odious chore since the COVID thing, and it’s really nice getting back into the swing of creativity again. I doubt I’ll ever write five to six books per year ever again, until I retire at the very least.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

  1. aka The New Prometheus, which is a big tell about the book’s themes. ↩︎

The Joke

And here we are on Sunday morning, rested and refreshed and ready to dive into my last day off for this weekend. I slept late again today, after not having much of a busy day; mostly, I watched football games while doing chores and reading. LSU lost, but it wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be. And who knew that Auburn-Vanderbilt would be the game of the day? It was the best I’ve seen Auburn play all season, and it was a shame they lost in overtime. Apparently, Kentucky shellacked Florida last night, too. Tulane played Friday night, and they also won, continuing to be the pride of Louisiana football. Roll Wave!

As I read deeper into The Hunting Wives, the book continues to deviate from the show (which was very fun) and the tone is very different. I will, of course, write about the book and the show once I’ve finished reading it. I had also pushed off writing about Boots until after Halloween, and now I am not sure I remember it well enough to write about it. Ah, well, I have some other newsletters that I need to get written, too. I had a crisis of confidence last night about Chlorine; which is normal for me, I think. (I was spending some time plotting the story and had one of those you’re going to blow this great idea moments; which is self-defeating and the entire point of those wretched kind of thoughts and spirals. Those are holdovers from untreated anxiety, and if I let them run their course without allowing them to take root, they always pass. I’m confident about it again this morning, so this methodology definitely seems to work.) I’ll probably read some more this morning before I hop into the shower and get cleaned up. I am making my own version of Swedish meatballs later on, too.

The cold apparently will descend upon us later today. It’s warm this morning, if cloudy; we’ll probably have thunderstorms in the evening and overnight as the temperature drops to a low of 37 (!!!) overnight. Yesterday was lovely when I ran my errands; I also spent some time pruning the books down again. You can actually see the dent I made in my book hoarder stacks! This is enormously pleasing, and while I did end up putting some books back into the stacks that I considered donating (they intrigued me again while looking at them), I did make the kind of progress I wanted. Maybe next weekend I can be even more ruthless…I mean, some of these I bought ten years or so ago and still haven’t read; maybe it’s time to set them free so someone else can enjoy them instead of collecting dust here in the Lost Apartment, right? And at least I paid for them.

I was also thinking yesterday about my newsletter/blog/personal essays, and how I am always so reluctant to talk deeply about my affinity for some authors and the books I love because I don’t have a degree in Literature and don’t read extensively academic explorations of literature, which makes me fear that anything I might have to say might have already been said (multiple times) by any number of Lit professors, and been dissected, deconstructed, and developed through vigorous debate and argument. It was more self-defeating talk; I may not have read as much of the classics as I maybe should have (most of which I didn’t enjoy in the least) or practiced such things on classics in the collegiate classroom (some day, I will discuss at great length my many failures at secondary education), but ultimately, it always boils down to opinion, doesn’t it? The newsletter essays also aren’t something I generally just write off the top of my head as I experience them; they marinate for a while in my head and I may take more than one run at the topic, too, before sharing them with my slowly growing subscription base. (This blog, on the other hand, is whatever comes to mind in the morning as I drink my coffee, and yawn and stretch and try to come alive.) That’s why I decided to separate opinion essays on movies, books, and television out from here to the newsletter, which eases the time burden on thinking about culture I consume. And the essays are supposed to be creative outlets for me to write about things that interest me, and I have soooo many varied interests.

And it also allows me to write personal essays about my life and past. I am writing one now that was inspired by going to my parents’ high school’s Homecoming game the last time I went up to Alabama. I also thought some yesterday, not just about Chlorine but several other things I am writing or have in progress that I’d love to get off my desk throughout the end of this year and next. I think maybe finishing all this work in progress might make me feel a little less harried and frenzied and behind on everything? Who knows?

And on that note, my book is calling to me, so I am going to head to my easy chair to do some reading. Have a great Sunday and I will be back in the morning.

Maidens supporting a roof on the Acropolis, Athens.

Pan-American Blues

Saturday morning and here we are with another golden and exciting day! Sparky let me sleep later this morning, and the bed was most comfortable. I had an excellent night’s sleep, thank you for asking, and feel pretty good this morning. Yesterday was a nice, relaxing day–hopefully today will be similar! There aren’t a lot of good games to watch today, so I am not even sure there’s much point to having the television on at all until the LSU game tonight, which I don’t have very high hopes for, to be honest. I do have some errands and chores to get done today, and I want to read more of The Hunting Wives with an eye to finishing it this weekend. But without any games to really watch…I should be able to get some reading done and write some while putting the finishing touches on the apartment.

As I said, yesterday was a good, relaxing day. After I got my work done for the day, I ensconced myself in the living room to watch some news of the world and read for a bit. I did do some excellent background work for some things I am working on as well, and the next Scotty–Halloween Party Hijinks–is slowly starting to take shape in my head. I also have figured out how to flesh out a young adult horror novel I started writing over a decade ago. Not to worry, I also did some work on Chlorine, and I need to really get that structured and outlined and pulled together. We’re almost to the halfway point of this month and I am no closer to being finished with a first draft than I have been for years. I think it’s more a sense of doubting myself, of not wanting to fail with this book. But the truth is, it’s just a book, and worrying about failing with the book is stupid, because the book’s success is out of my control and all I can concern myself with is writing the best book that I can.

Which is always the only thing I can control with anything I write. Get out of your head, Gregalicious, and out of your own way.

I watched Scream 3 again as a palate cleanser, and I must admit, as much as I have always loved this movie, it’s really not as good as the original. Sure, I love–and have always loved–the meta factor being amped up so much; what better way to do another Scream than having the murders all happen around the cast and filming of Stab 3? And this film has some absolutely brilliant moments–the Carrie Fisher cameo; watching Jenny McCarthy die a brutal death (I enjoyed that more than I have on past watchings for some reason); and Parker Posey’s absolute brilliance as an actress playing Gale Weathers; her scenes with Courtney Cox as Gale Weathers are classic–that make it worth watching.

We watched the ice dancing competition from Skate Japan last night, too–I keep forgetting that the Winter Olympics are next year–mainly to see the US teams competing, and it’s nice to see we have some young up-and-comers in the discipline. Ironically, ice dancing is the discipline the US has seen the most success in this century with–who would have ever thought such a thing was possible back in the 1990s? Certainly not me!

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close so I can get my day going. I have to run a couple of short errands this morning, and after that I am in for the weekend. Huzzah! Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back to talk to you again in the morning.

There should be a laws against Aaron Pierre being this beautiful. Those eyes!

Lookin’ for Love

…in all the wrong places1…

Thursday and my last day in the office for this week. How exciting! I have no idea what the weekend holds for me; I know I will watch the LSU game for a while, but if it goes the way I’m expecting it to I won’t need to watch after half-time. I’m not sure what other games are this weekend, but I’ll have the television on for sure playing games all day while I do other things, like pick up and clean and read and write and all the other fun things I get to do every weekend. I was a bit tired yesterday when I got off from work yesterday (I started to say night, but is it night at five? The sun was still up…sort of), but came straight home. I did some chores (laundry, the dishes) and picked up some around the kitchen. I also caught up on the news (I am really enjoying the MAGA meltdown2, because I am far pettier than they could ever hope to be), and then did a little writing–not much, just a smidgen. But it still counts!

Paul won’t be home tonight until I’ve probably fallen asleep; he’s going to some gala event fundraiser. I probably should go and be Mrs. Festival, but I’ll be so tired I’d fall asleep in a chair somewhere. I feel like I slept well–my mind is alert and other than some ache in my hips, everything else feels fine, which is definitely odd for a Thursday. I’m alone and without a nurse in the clinic again today, but I also don’t think we’re going to be very busy, either. I feel much better overall since my injection on Monday, which is very cool. Maybe I’ll actually be able to get some writing done tonight, since I have the house to myself. Stranger things have happened. Or I’ll just watch some more videos about Appalachian legend and lore. I am really enjoying these, as well as the “Dixie After Dark” podcast, which is really interesting and fun to listen to…and inspirational.

I finally got my email inbox cleared out yesterday, and I definitely like having an empty inbox. I usually fall behind on it, slowly but surely, and a trip will always make me fall behind. Now that my anxiety is (mostly) under control these days, having a full inbox no longer makes me tense and nervous. Weird, I know, but a leftover from serving on boards and getting buried in blizzards of emails. I had to stay current on my email then in order to not get so far behind I could never catch up…but that is certainly no longer the case, so it’s never that much work to empty it, to be honest, and I love that for me.

This week’s episode of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City wasn’t as good as last week’s–a very high bar to clear–but I was highly entertained for the entire episode and never got bored–you never get bored with this cast. I also have to applaud production, because it’s very clear they know what people are watching for and they camp the show up considerably, making it even more fun than just the usual women-screaming-at-each-other-over-petty -shit. I did laugh multiple times, and it took me out of the our present doom-scape (like the election results did; I think my favorite outcome of all was the ouster of the Moms for Liberty3 skanks from school boards everywhere, including red states, cities, and counties. Fuck off, Libs of Tiktok, now and forever. Odd that your concern for children doesn’t extend to voting for and supporting pedophiles. It’s like you don’t really care about children as anything other than political pawns, which is both reprehensible and evil.

Turns out most Americans think you’re scum, too.

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

  1. Yes, I remember when Urban Cowboy came out and country went more mainstream. I remember a bar in Emporia even put in a mechanical bull–and no, I never did it myself. ↩︎
  2. Also was able to use the Islamophobic posts to block and delete people from my feed. I stand for no bigotry and never want to see it on my feed. The Debra Messing meltdown was something else entirely, but I was never a fan of hers. Maybe someday I’ll critique Will and Grace. ↩︎
  3. Any group that puts “liberty” in their name actually is fascist and should be side-eyed and blocked from any electoral office. ↩︎

Ridin’ My Thumb to Mexico

Tuesday! We survived Monday, Constant Reader, and lived to tell the tale. Huzzah for us! I also gave myself my first Skyrizi1 injection on my own, and it was pretty easy and simple. Before anxiety medications, I would have undoubtedly worked myself up into quite the tizzy about the injection, but as I said, it was pretty easy and before I knew it all the medicine was in my system and I could toss the device into the SHARPS container in my testing room. I didn’t even bleed, or feel the needle at all. Also, the first time I did it, with the pharmaceutical company’s nurse watching and helping, I wasn’t wearing my hearing aids so couldn’t hear it running. Not a problem with the hearing aids in, though! It actually sounded rather loud, frankly, so if there was any doubt about whether they help me hear better, there’s the answer.

I also spent some time yesterday filing my claim with the Anthropic settlement. They had eighteen of my titles (!!!), which was time consuming to enter each book into the claim database, but it could have been worse; they didn’t have all of my titles, praise Jesus. I doubt I’ll ever see a cent from this, but hey, I certainly wouldn’t had I not filed a claim, right? But it was sobering to see how much they stole from me–thought they had a right to steal from me–but we are again living in the time of the Long Con, aren’t we?

Speaking of long cons, I woke up to the news that Dick Cheney has died2. We used to call Darth Cheney back in those pre-Tea Party pre-MAGA pre-Obama days, because he was a horrible, evil man whose primary concerns were getting us into endless wars so the company he used to work for, Halliburton (remember them, anyone?), could make billions in profit. The Republicans of that era used 9/11 and its aftermath to consolidate power, pass the egregiously unconstitutional PATRIOT Act (the foundation for the bullshit we’re seeing today), and the creation of Homeland Security. Remember how quickly the “fiscally conservative” Republicans spent through the surplus Clinton left behind, and pissed all over the budget and the deficit? But hey, so long as Halliburton was profiting from the wars, right? They lied to the American public to get us into Iraq, and no one was ever held accountable, which is part of the reason we’re in the mess we’re in now; we don’t hold politicians accountable for lying to the citizenry.

And don’t even get me started on the homophobia of the Bush-Cheney years. He participated in a campaign that targeted queer people and homophobia despite having a queer child of his own, if that tells you anything about who, and what, Dick Cheney was. He eventually publicly changed his mind about queer people and marriage equality, but he never acknowledged or apologized for his war crimes, or his crimes against the American people. Y’all can mourn him all you like; but his family has always been just as bad as he was–and his daughter’s anti-Trump turn didn’t make up for all the bad shit she has said and done over the years, either–and the widow is just as vile as her husband, if not more so.

I also made groceries on the way home from work last night. I wasn’t tired, which was odd; it was a slow day at the clinic and so I was able to get some other administrative work done, which was very cool. Paul was working on a grant, so I spent the evening watching videos for research on Youtube and taking notes. I worked on a novella for a little while (A Holler Full of Kudzu, for those who take note of these sorts of things), which was fun–I do like creating without any deadline pressures on me–and I love that I am sliding back into writing mode again. I do love writing.

I also finished my final Halloween Horror Month newsletter for 2025, about my recent reread of The Haunting of Hill House, and why I love the book (and its author) so much. It may be the best essay I’ve done for the newsletter so far; which probably has everything to do with how much I love the book, and writing about it. I am always so nervous to do those kinds of essays; one of the reasons I am so insecure about them, especially when exploring the art of others, is that I don’t have the kind of educational background I feel might be necessary. I’ve not read scholarship or articles or essays about literature or film or television; my insights therefore might not be so fresh or original as I think they might be; is anything really original anymore? But…my opinions are just as valid as anyone else’s, and why do I need to read the opinions of others to form my own? Confidence is always the name of the game, and working through and ignoring the lack of it in my brain can only help me grow as a person and as a writer, right?

Easier said than done.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I will check back in again tomorrow morning.

Um, SIR YES SIR!!!
  1. This is the medication for the ulcerative colitis I have to inject every eight weeks. ↩︎
  2. He was 84, only a few years older than the current head of his party. ↩︎

Season of the Witch

Happy All Saints Day! And welcome to November, I suppose. This year is slipping away like sands through the hour glass (hat tip: Days of Our Lives), but the terrorist attack of New Year’s seems like it was a million years ago, too. When I think about where we are now as opposed to where we were ten months ago, though…it seems like a decade has passed since my New Year’s blog, doesn’t it? I slept deeply and well last night, and Sparky let me sleep later (although he got his razor blades trimmed yesterday, so him smacking me in the face in the morning doesn’t have the same impact) than I usually do, so that was nice too. We have to run some errands today we didn’t get to yesterday, but that’s fine. LSU isn’t playing today so I don’t have a vested interest in watching games today, so I don’t really care to be home for them all day, either. I probably won’t get any writing or much reading done, but…I also am not going to worry about it. Yes, time is slipping away, but I also need to allow myself to get rest and be lazy without beating myself up about it all the damned time, too. Progress?

Perhaps. We shall see.

I also have to pay some bills this morning before we do anything, and probably get some of the chores done, too. I made good progress on chores yesterday; the bed linens all got laundered, the dishes are done and put away, the counters are cleaned and cleared, and all I really need to do is vacuum the rugs and mop the floors, and potentially prune more of the books down. I need to be more ruthless, too.

The backlash to governor Janky Jeff’s massive interference with LSU apparently taught the moron some sort of lesson, because he backed the fuck down after Scott Woodward (best of luck to you, sir, you worked wonders at LSU and I am sorry Janky Jeff decided to show his ass) was fired. To paraphrase Mean Girls, “he didn’t even go there.” He also got some pushback when he tried to force Loyola (a Jesuit Catholic private university in New Orleans) to charter a chapter of Turning Point USA after the student senate flatly rejected their application, mainly because they don’t share the same values as the Society of Jesus. Bitch slap! I was glad to see a Catholic university stand their ground against political interference from TEMU Huey Long. Don’t stand with the evangelicals, Catholics–they will come for you eventually as idolators and papists and pagans. They don’t think you’re real Christians in the first place, so less than what they see as “white.” Janky Jeff is not popular in Louisiana; only 19% of registered voters even voted in that gubernatorial election because we had no options. All the candidates were different degrees of MAGA, anyway. I don’t even remember who I voted for, but I have never cast a ballot for Jeff Landry and I never will.

I can only hope to be seated in the jury for his inevitable trial for corruption and malfeasance. No, they wouldn’t seat me, because no one could ever convince me he isn’t guilty.

Then again, Jindal was never charged with anything. And he definitely should have been; his wife was just as corrupt as Casey DeSantis, and the corrupt always corrupt. (Note to everyone: their women are just as bad as, if not worse, than their husbands. See: Usha Vance, Melania Trump, Lara Trump…the list is lengthy.)

Sigh.

My mind is still deeply entrenched in horror, by the way, which is something I don’t remember Halloween Horror Month doing to me before; maybe because I was always trying to finish a book before the end of the year? This entire decade has been mentally draining and fatiguing, frankly, and I’ve had a lot of brain fog and increasing loss of memory. I do wonder occasionally about how different my career would be had I gone into horror rather than crime; rather than just being a fan. I did want to write horror when I was in my twenties, and even tried. I laugh now when I remember thinking my personalized rejections with suggestions and tips and encouragement to keep writing and submitting to them, from horror magazine editors, was just them being nice. Editors are never nice like that, ever, as I have since learned. I guess I was so down on myself and had such a lack of self-esteem (as well as knowledge; there was no one to tell me differently) that I focused on the rejection rather than accepting the encouragement. Each rejection was further confirmation that I was a loser, and I was in such a spiral of misery in the 1980s there wasn’t any way I could have seriously pursued being a writer. I don’t have regrets–I never do–but sometimes I do wonder. I played the cards I was dealt and everything eventually turned out, didn’t it? But I am going to try to work on some things tomorrow, since I don’t have to leave the house at all and Paul is, I think, going to his office.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back here in the morning.