Tag: books

Hitch a Ride

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and here we go, launching into a three day weekend. I was still a little drained yesterday when I finished work yesterday, so I ordered groceries and worked on chores and ignored the Internet. It’s lovely to disconnect once in a while to let my brain heal in order to face another day–and social media is becoming less and less fun (when was the last time it was truly fun?) and more emotionally disturbing. It’s also rarely helpful in dealing with any of the shit going on right now, either. I ordered groceries and just kind of rested while doing chores. There was a shit-ton of laundry to do, and dishes and…and…sigh. As I said yesterday, Sisyphean tasks indeed. indeed. But Paul brought dinner home–Chinese; I love me some shrimp lo-mein1–and we watched the LSU-Georgia gymnastics meet when he got home from his day before moving on to an episode of Run Away, which has definitely taken some turns on its journey to episode six. We’ll undoubtedly finish it today, with only two episodes left to go. I went to bed relatively early and slept very late this morning, which goes to show how tired and run down I was feeling. I’m a little worn still today, but I have lots of things to get done over the course of the weekend. I had planned to run a bunch of errands today and get them out of the way, so I wouldn’t have to do anything outside the apartment for the rest of the weekend, but when I woke up I wasn’t so sure if I would run them or not….but as the coffee and coffee cake kick into gear again for me, I might just be able to do that.

I’ve really started enjoying writing the newsletter, but it takes longer to write those entries than it does the blog, you know? I shoot this off every morning when I am drinking my coffee and waking up every morning, in less than an hour and think about my previous day and what I want to get done that particular day, what I watched and read and am looking forward to enjoying while putting all my “reviews” (books, movies, television shows that I want to get more in depth about) in the newsletter….as well as writing about my own past and the books and movies and things that inspired me, shaped me, and influenced me into who I am as a person and as a writer, which is very fun. I am in the midst of one about my lifelong interest in ancient Egypt and trying to remember where that interest originally sprang from. I’ve watched some interesting documentaries about ancient Egypt recently; ones about the three Golden Ages of ancient Egypt as well as one about the Ptolemaic dynasty, who have also always interested me (Cleopatra VII, the one we all know, was the last Ptolemy).

I also started writing some newsletters about Scotty and the upcoming release of Hurricane Season Hustle (available for pre-order; drops on February 10). The story behind the book might prove interesting to others beside me; on the other hand maybe not, but it’s also a kind of interesting example of how some book ideas can take shape and form even when it takes two decades. This was originally supposed to be Scotty IV, but things changed and now it finally is Scotty X, which is wild; how are there ten books in this series that started out as a stand alone?

I have to go to Office Max to buy envelopes so I can send out copies of the new book to the people I always gift them to; the mail; a prescription; and two different grocery stores. Heavy heaving sigh. That is probably going to wear me out for today, but if that’s the case, I’ll just clean and read and watch documentaries. I think Paul is going to be at the office this afternoon, or upstairs working, so I should be able to get all this stuff finished before I settle in for the day to read. I think I’ll dive back into The Secret of Hangman’s Inn today, and bust back into the Eli Cranor tomorrow. Pretty cool, methinks.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely holiday Saturday, and I’ll be back in the morning.

  1. Which is probably not even Chinese but American Chinese… ↩︎

More Than a Feeling

Sunday morning after yet another low energy Saturday. I slept late again and did next to nothing yesterday, other than a couple of errands (more on that later) and a load of laundry. I spent most of yesterday hanging out with Paul and Sparky and watching television; there was a gymnastics meet that LSU competed in as well as the figure skating finals for men’s and ice dance. That was my entire day, really, and I also was lazy enough to let everything slide, so I have a messy kitchen and living room to deal with this morning. I didn’t read, and we didn’t watch much of anything else other than some news and other clips on Youtube between the gymnastics and figure skating. I do feel more rested today, which is a plus, and I slept late again this morning, too. No worries, I decided yesterday that regretting sleeping longer than usual is counter-productive. I need to rest, and it’s not laziness if you want to sleep later. One thing I need to unpack and process and get over this year is the fear of being thought lazy–and you’re not lazy if you’re not doing something productive every minute and second of every single day. (Thanks, Mom!)

I have no idea what today is going to be like and I am not really making definitive plans for the day. I do need to update my to-do list, make a grocery list, pay some bills, and I do need to do something about the kitchen/living room. I did notice the other day that the barricades for St. Charles’ Carnival Slalom Course are already out on the neutral grounds on the Avenue, which is going to be fun driving down on my way home from work during the parade weeks as I rush to get home before they close the Avenue off, sealing those of us who live in the Box off from the rest of the city. I forgot to bring home boxes from work to pack up more books for the library sale, having finally reached the acceptance phase of knowing I’ll never read all the books I have on hand and should give someone else the opportunity to read them. I paid for them already, after all, so the authors have gotten a royalty from me so why not let someone else have them, right? Books aren’t for decor, they are to be read and enjoyed and shared, and I no longer need to have books stuffed on every available surface and into cabinets and the attic and so forth, to feel comfort. I always used to be afraid I’d run out of something to read and so always needed a big TBR pile. I don’t need that anymore, and I will never run out of things to read so long as I have my iPad.

I also don’t have the anxiety that drove the book hoarding anymore, either.

I see that the Virulently Anti-Black Queens offered a non-apology yesterday that went over almost as well as their racism and misogyny did in the first place. I believe people when they show me who they are the first time, thanks. I also loved seeing gay white men telling Black people on social media what is and isn’t racism. Way to beat the allegations that we’re racists, guys. It also pisses me off because I always want to support queer people and their art, but I can’t be supportive of problematic gay men, especially when they target Black people for disdain and contempt that is clearly rooted in white supremacy–there are plenty of white gay men who think because they’re marginalized they can’t be racist. Au contraire, mon frere–being marginalized yourself doesn’t mean you can marginalize and belittle others because you’re white or have proximity to whiteness. Do better, people. I’m not perfect and make mistakes all the fucking time–but I also try to take responsibility for my words, and learn. We all have to unpack things we learned and absorbed from the culture and society we were raised in–those things aren’t our fault entirely, but not unpacking them and clearing them out of our psyches IS.

It’s not really that hard to look at other demographics through a lens of humanity first, and it really shouldn’t be that difficult for all of us to be more empathetic and to call out dehumanizing behavior and language.

When I picked up the mail yesterday, my box o’books for Hurricane Season Hustle had arrived. And while it’s always a thrill to get said author copies–that never gets old–I did have a bit of a pang, thinking Yay! followed by Christ, where am I going to keep these? That was a new reaction, and probably due to not having the anxiety anymore and being more pragmatic about the book hoarding. The kitchen was too messy to take a picture of the box o’books to post the way I always do; so I’ll have to get some work done on the room before I can unpack the box and do my usual routine with the books.

And on that note, the kitchen isn’t going to clean itself and Sparky wants my desk chair for his morning nap, so…I am going to close this and head into the spice mines, whether I want to or not. Enjoy your Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning before work.

Sea of Heartbreak

Well, we’ve made it to Wednesday, and the seasonal transition from Christmas to Carnival is now complete. I had my first piece of King Cake yesterday, and it was marvelous, as always. I’m a little more excited about Carnival this year than I have been in–oh, I don’t know how long. That last one before the pandemic–2020–was cold and wet and unpleasant and I didn’t enjoy it very much, and then of course the disease started kicking into gear and I’ve not really had much opportunity to enjoy it very much these past few years. Part of it is having to get up so early for work makes staying out late on the parade route counter-intuitive; and the other was of course being so fucking tired all the time.

I’m feeling a bit tired this morning. I’ve worked in the clinic for two days (I had to cover for someone on my Admin Day Monday), we’ve been busy, and I was alone yesterday and for the rest of the week and we’re going to continue to be busy today and tomorrow as well. Sigh. At least I am not fatigued! I was sleepy last night and went to bed early, but managed to get some chores done (I am really trying to stay on top of the chores so I don’t have to spend time on the weekend trying to get them done) before going to bed. I slept well last night, too, which was awesome. My 21 year anniversary is coming up (it already has passed in reality; I started working on the 2nd of January, but they have my “hire date” as one day next week. This mystified me for a while, and gradually figured that the date they have in the files for me was the first time I got paid), which is crazy to me–my temporary part time job somehow turned into a career of sorts, but I was reflecting on that yesterday while remembering previous jobs that I absolutely hated. But I got a lot done at work yesterday and am all caught up on everything, which is great. The goal is to always stay current, and since I am no longer fighting fatigue every day, it’s not that hard to do. Now to get back into the writing habit…

I also have a book coming out next month, and I really should start promoting it, shouldn’t I? I am so terrible at this, and I always forget that I really need to start doing some promotion until the book is almost ready to come out–or is already out. How do I still have a career in writing? One of those mysteries, I suppose, that will never be solved. Heavy heaving sigh.

And TWFest/S&S season is also kicking into gear, and I am about to become my annual period of Festival widowing. Paul will be working almost nonstop–or sleeping; that’s pretty much his schedule from now till April. Heavy sigh. But this is a good opportunity and time for me to get some things done that I need to get done. I am definitely pruning the fuck out of the books; many of them I will never get around to reading, and much as I like always being surrounded by books…until I am seriously reading regularly again I need to stop buying more books. I did an excellent job last year restricting myself from buying tons of books I’ll probably never read, but yeah–it’s time to clean everything out, methinks. There are also well over a hundred books on my iPad, too. I also think I’m going to start clearing out files, too; I can always make notes in a journal of anything that looks interesting or useful in the future. STOP HOARDING GREGALICIOUS!!!

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow for sure.

Smoky Mountain Rain

Epiphany! Twelfth Night! Carnival begins! I made groceries on the way home from work last night (we were busy all day), and picked up our first King cake of the season–it may be the last, actually, because Paul was home when I got home from work, and we spent a good portion of the evening getting caught up on everything and making plans. We both want to be healthier this year, and work on getting into better condition. He’s going to start by changing eating habits now; I am going to wait until after Mardi Gras to get started because that will fuck me up with going to the gym and so forth; it always does, and then I can’t get back into it again.

Or maybe I am just delaying working on it because I don’t want to really get started and am procrastinating again. It’s a mystery, as always. (We are interrupting this post to remind Gregalicious that he is not to be self-deprecating or hard on himself in 2026; and this is dangerously close. REBOOT! REBOOT!)

I’ve always loved today’s title song, and one night when I was driving to Kentucky through the Smoky Mountains, it started raining…and I remembered the song and a story popped into my head, about a woman fleeing a crime, heading north on I-75, and stopping at a rest area, where through no fault of her own other than having to pee, pulls into the midst of another crime. I’ve never written the whole story out, either–called it “Smoky Mountain Rest Stop”–but when I was driving up there this last time, one of the problems I had with the unwritten story was security cameras…and there was a rest stop that said NO SECURITY PROVIDED. I made a quick drive through their parking lot and sure enough, no cameras…and I renamed the story “No Security Provided,” which is a MUCH better title1.

I also finished my newsletter review of The Postman Always Rings Twice and got it out of the way; I am working on yet another to send out this weekend (hopefully). I was a little bit done in when I got home last night–not fatigued, but a bit tired–and so never made dinner last night, nor did I do any chores. I got sucked into The Cult of the Real Housewife documentary on HBO, about Mary Cosby from Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. It was…interesting. I still have another episode to go, but am not really sure about it. It’s highly entertaining, and I may have some unconscious bias going on (because I enjoy her on the show), but…I just don’t know. Yes, it is weird she married her grandmother’s widower and had a child with him. But that church is small. How could that fund her extravagant lifestyle, even if it is a cult and they are all giving her every cent of their money and so forth? It seemed like a lot of innuendo without concrete proof of anything; they did use some clips from Bravo, so they had to have permission, right? I’m not sure how that works, but there had to be some cooperation from the network. Curious that no one from Bravo is in it, though–co-stars, Andy Cohen, etc.–other than the clips.

It’s also interesting how many housewives have gotten the documentary treatment. Someday this will all be very fertile ground for a forensic social/cultural anthropologist, or a doctoral thesis: what personality disorders make for good reality television stars? I try not to watch shows that feature (and reward) criminal behavior; and I don’t know that I was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mary Cosby’s church is a cult. Maybe episode three will be more damning? I’m not sure its against the law to be a cult? They usually wind up violating other laws, which is usually their downfall–or they all end up dead.

Not good options, are they?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

I love how the colors of the illuminated stained glass glow in contract to the darkness and shadows

The Winner Takes It All

Congratulations, everyone!

Lefty Nominees for Best Humorous Mystery Novel
  ° Ellen Byron, Solid Gold Murder (Kensington)
  ° Jennifer J. Chow, Star-Crossed Egg Tarts (St. Martin’s Paperbacks)
  ° Elizabeth Crowens, Bye Bye Blackbird (Level Best Books)
  ° Catriona McPherson, Scot’s Eggs (Severn House)
  ° Cindy Sample, All’s Faire in Love and Murder (Cindy Sample Books)
Lefty Nominees for Best Historical Mystery Novel
(Bill Gotttfried Memorial) for books covering events before 1970
  ° Cara Black, Huguette (Soho Crime)
  ° Mariah Fredericks, The Girl in the Green Dress (Minotaur Books)
  ° Dianne Freeman, A Daughter’s Guide to Mothers and Murder (Kensington)
  ° Claire M. Johnson, City Lights (Level Best Books)
  ° Laurie R. King, Knave of Diamonds (Bantam)
  ° Rob Osler, The Case of the Missing Maid (Kensington)
Lefty Nominees for Best Debut Mystery Novel
  ° Adrian Andover, Whiskey Business (Chestnut Avenue Press)
  ° Kristen L. Berry, We Don’t Talk About Carol (Bantam)
  ° Laurie L. Dove, Mask of the Deer Woman (Berkley)
  ° Sue Hincenbergs, The Retirement Plan (William Morrow)
  ° Marisa Kashino, Best Offer Wins (Celadon Books)
  ° Diane Schaffer, Mortal Zin (Sibylline Press)
Lefty Nominees for Best Mystery Novel
  ° Lou Berney, Crooks (William Morrow)
  ° Claire Booth, Throwing Shadows (Severn House)
  ° Tracy Clark, Edge (Thomas & Mercer)
  ° Leslie Karst, Waters of Destruction (Severn House)
  ° James L’Etoile, River of Lies (Oceanview Publishing)
  ° Gigi Pandian, The Library Game (Minotaur Books)

Old Town Road

So this is Christmas! Hope everyone has the kind of day they desire; as for me, I am staying inside all day and being a lazy slug, which is exactly what I did yesterday, and it was absolutely marvelous. I didn’t even read anything; I wanted my brain turned off completely and didn’t even want to think about anything or everything. It was nice. I feel really rested and relaxed this morning…Sparky started demanding I get up about six, but he’s actually sweet about it. He’ll try for a bit, and when I don’t get up he’ll cuddle for a bit, but every time I move, he’ll try again for a little while before going back to being cuddly. I don’t have the heart to tell him that his being cuddly makes me want to stay in bed all the more…

Cats are marvelous pets, really.

We got very heavily into our binge of Down Cemetery Road, which we are really enjoying. I’m going to have to read the book it was based on, written by Mick Herron–someone I’ve not read yet but is really recommended by almost everyone I know who has read his work. Emma Thompson is terrific, and I hope this gets another season; there are four books in total about Zoë Boehm. She’s going to be a favorite at the Emmys, deservedly so. I also started watching the 1995 Canadian Hardy Boys series, but turned it off after five minutes because it was terrible; the Hardy Boys/juvenile series groups I belong to despise the show, but I wanted to give it a shot, as they tend to not like anything that is even slightly different from the books…but in this instance, they were absolutely correct. I then started a German/South African adaptation of another juvenile series I enjoyed, The Three Investigators and the Secret of Terror Castle, which has a very young Cameron Monaghan playing Bob Andrews, but I didn’t finish it, either–despite a very strong start, I was too fidgety yet to commit to watching anything other than Youtube videos until Paul got home from having his hair colored.

A most exciting Christmas Eve, was it not?

I also did some chores–laundry, dishes, the kitchen–but for the most part, it was exactly the kind of day I wanted and needed, and here’s hoping that today will be the same. I won’t start making the turkey in the slow cooker until noonish, so we can have it for dinner tonight as we finish watching Down Cemetery Road. I’ll probably start making notes for my end of 2025 recap soon, too.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close. Have a wonderful day, no matter how you spend it or what you do with it, Constant Reader, and as always, thank you for stopping by!

At a glance this guy reminds me of Pete Buttigieg.

Crazy Arms

Sunday morning and all is calm in the house. I feel good, very well-rested and cheerful, which of course is lovely. The Sparkster let me sleep in till almost eight, and now I am finishing my first cup of coffee and have already had this morning’s slice of chocolate marble swirl coffee cake (can’t imagine why I can’t lose weight, can you?), and am about to get another cup of coffee. I did get some things done yesterday, which is cool, and have more things to do today as well. I have one errand to run later this morning, and I’m going to get that out of the way, come home and get cleaned up and get back into working for a bit. Yesterday was a lovely day. I worked some more on the apartment, and delved even more deeply into my renamed main character in the current work. I’m also going to try writing it in the first person present tense, which is going to be really hard for me. (I tend to always use first person past tense.)

The best part of writing a book is this part–even if a lot of this background work never makes it into the finished part.

I’ve been listening a lot to old Fleetwood Mac albums in the car lately, and while they’ve always been my favorite band of all time–every album is a gem, in its own way–when I go for a while without listening I sometimes forget why they are my favorite band of all time. This past week I was listening to their Christine McVie-less recording from the early aughts, Say You Will, which is really good, but kind of Buckingham Nicks 2.0, really. I also like watching Youtube videos of young people listening to their recordings for the first time, and appreciating the artistry, talent, sound, and production values. Rumours will always be my favorite album of all time, and my favorite album of theirs, but the others are also excellent and merit more listening.

We watched this week’s episode of Heated Rivalry, which was probably the best, and most engaging, episode of the show thus far (I loved episode 3, spoiler alert); the first time I cared whether the main characters were just fuck buddies or a couple slowly falling in love. I still have some thoughts about the show, some quibbles as it were, mostly about relationship roles and the feminization of bottoms, but that can wait till I’ve finished watching the show and review it for the newsletter. (I’m still bitter about the cancelation of Boots, but…they also could have seriously fucked up a second season, so I’m choosing to see this cancelation, evil as it was, as a good thing.)

I did have the college football games on yesterday, but the only one we watched was Miami-Texas A&M, which was the only good game of the day. We turned off the later games to watch other things once it was clear they were not going to be competitive. Despite their blowout losses, good for both Tulane and James Madison for having breakout seasons and making it to the playoffs before a lot of name brand schools did. I don’t know if I’ll watch the quarterfinals or not; I don’t care who wins but I am also not a big fan of any school still left in it–although I always pull for underdogs, so I kind of would like to see Indiana do well–so am not sure.

I did finally finish reading The Postman Always Rings Twice yesterday; it’s really a nasty little book, isn’t it? I now can see why it was controversial; for one, it’s told from the villain’s point of view, which may or may not have been shocking to readers in the 1930s. (This particular reread also made me realize I need to delve more deeply into Chlorine and my main character–who he is, what he wants–and very glad I did; this reread was crucial.) Postman also deserves its own newsletter (I need to get some of the others done and out of the way already, don’t I?), where I can talk about this vicious little novella that changed everything in the crime fiction genre (I”m talking out of my ass here, but I would imagine it did challenge the sensibilities of readers conditioned to Christie, Queen, and Sayers, among many others), and its impact on me, both as a writer and a reader. I also generally don’t revisit Postman often; usually I just revisit Double Indemnity and Mildred Pierce, but am very glad I did. It made me see what was wrong with what I had already done on this book.

I also gave my main character a new stage name–because the old one really didn’t work. It was more modern than the weird names movie stars were given in the late 1940s and early 1950s (Tab Hunter, Rock Hudson, Troy Donahue), and so yesterday one of those dopey names came to me as I was cleaning the house; and realized it would work, plus would help define the amorality and narcissism in the character. I will reuse the working name for him in another book, certainly–it’s a good name–but this new one is even better.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. The sun is shining outside (it’s gorgeous out, just as it was yesterday), and I still have some things to do this morning. I’m going to start reading the new Eli Cranor. methinks, while also revisiting a classic juvenile series mystery from one of my favorite juvenile series. I also have some short stories I want to work on, too. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning before I head in for my last two work days before Christmas.

The gift where they meant well, but didn’t think about the cost-feeding, clothing, cleaning up after him, etc.

Turtles All The Way Down

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I also only have to work Monday and Tuesday of next week, so I pretty much have a rather lengthy vacation with a two-day work break. Yay! It’ll be nice to relax and recharge and hang out with the boys and make progress on everything, sleep as late as Sparky will let me…woo-hoo!

Yesterday was a busy day in the clinic–the afternoon, at any rate–but I stayed on top of most everything somehow. Today should be somewhat easier, and I can get caught up on the few things I am behind on (mostly Admin work, processing paperwork from yesterday) before the stay-at-home day and my weekend. I feel pretty good this morning (more sleep would be lovely, but isn’t necessary) and am in a pretty decent mood. I didn’t do a lot yesterday when I got home from work; I went uptown to get the mail after work, which was an adventure because I left the office late. Got some Christmas cards (apologies again, everyone) in the mail, and my Anthropic settlement information. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City–which was a rather silly episode, but quite fun. I caught up on the news, refused to watch whatever speech that was that aired last night (and from what I am seeing this morning, I didn’t miss anything; so to me at least, it seems like it was nothing more than a distraction from the Vanity Fair disaster and all the other disasters rooted in this administration1), and then did some light picking up and filing before going to bed. I feel rested and good, miraculous for a Thursday, and cannot believe Christmas is a week from today. It was dark when I went uptown last night, and on my way home from Uptown last night I saw a lot of decorated houses, which kind of made me feel Christmasy. We’re getting a new television from Costco as a Christmas gift to ourselves. I don’t feel like we really need a new one, honestly, but the one we have is over ten years old, and Paul has been hankering for a new television, for reasons unknown to me, for several months now. I bought our current one at Target on the West Bank as a Christmas gift for the apartment all those long years ago. I don’t really care about gifts anymore, which has been a conundrum these last years because we don’t really need anything, so we’ve kind of abandoned birthday and Christmas presents. We usually, for example, get Chinese food for our birthdays as a treat, or a pizza from a place that’s inconvenient to go to.

I am hoping to get a couple of newsletters done over the weekend and set to post over a week or so; I need to finish my essays on Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem, The Princess Bride, and General Hospital, and I have a new essay series I am planning, about my lifelong obsession with all things ancient Egyptian; which will be a lot of fun to write, methinks2. I also need to finish reading The Postman Always Rings Twice, and start my next read over this weekend as well (it’s looking like a toss-up between a Dorothy B. Hughes classic and the latest Eli Cranor). There’s absolutely no reason I can’t get a lot of reading and writing done over the holiday break, as well as cleaning and organizing with plenty of time to be lazy and relax. Staycations are kind of nice, actually. I also don’t think the clinic is busy next week, either; but after New Year’s, YIKES.

I didn’t watch this week’s new episode of Heated Rivalry, but I did see that Netflix canceled Boots, in what can only be seen as a capitulation of the company to the Pentagon, because the Secretary of Alcoholism didn’t think it “properly depicted the Warrior Ethos of the military.” I’d like to see that drunk rapist adulterous piece of shit make it through Boot Camp, and based on every piece of video evidence I’ve seen, that piece of shit can’t even do a pull-up properly. Such a masculine stud! Netflix also wants to acquire Warner Brothers, so they’re dancing around the Administration’s whining bitch-ass complaints. Leavenworth is too good for this piece of shit’s war crimes, and I also think he should be turned over to the Hague. Anyway, I digressed away from the point (because that piece of shit makes my blood boil), which was that a co-worker asked me in the elevator the other morning if I “wrote m/m romance under a different name.” I was a bit taken aback at first, but I just replied no, but kept thinking about it the rest of the day, and it’s popped back into my head any number of times since then.

I’ve not written anything that could be strictly considered romance other than a couple of short stories here and there over the years. I don’t read much romance–my supervisor loaned me an m/m romance novel last year that I still haven’t read, but writing gay romance (or “m/m”, whatever; but there are distinctions) is something that has occurred to me over the years. I do have several ideas for them, but they’re more romantic stories than actually romance. It would be a challenge, I think, but I love challenges and pushing myself to try to write new things I’ve not done before. I do need to read more romances, though, in order to really write a good one. Ever since Charles (shout out to Charles Click!) mentioned this to me the other morning, a sports one has kind of started taking shape in my head–partly because I already wrote an erotic short story about an athlete (who wasn’t a wrestler, LOL) that could easily be adapted to a novel.

Something to think about, anyway. Maybe after Chlorine.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow! From my workspace at home between the windows!

  1. At least we’re not invading Venezuela…yet. Happy with what you voted for, MAGAts? ↩︎
  2. And it gives me the opportunity and excuse to watch The Mummy movies with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz again. ↩︎

Strawberry Wine

Sunday morning and I do hope all is well with you, Constant Reader! It rained overnight, so it’s a bit chillier this morning than it was yesterday (yesterday was a beautiful day, sunny and in the low seventies); the cold weather comes in tonight around bedtime. How lovely! I slept late this morning, and Sparky let me, for the most part, cuddling rather than trying to get me up most of the time. Yesterday was, for its part, mostly quiet and restful. I didn’t push myself to get things done the way I had hoped, but Paul didn’t have his trainer yesterday and decided to hang out rather than go to the office, so I spent most of the dat in my chair watching television with Paul. I watched two more French history documentaries–this time, histories of the Capet and Bourbon dynasties. We also watched Caught Stealing with Austin Butler, which was different than what we were expecting. The previews made it seem like a black comedy, and yes, there were moments of black humor in the movie, but it was more of a thriller than anything else. My primary takeaway was that Austin Butler is incredibly beautiful (which I’ve known since The Shannara Chronicles), and has the kind of charisma that is very hard to stop watching. It was one of those ‘endless nightmare’ movies, where doing a punk neighbor a favor takes the main character down a path of violence and endless, deadly mess. It also has an insanely good cast, too–Regina King, Zoe Kravitz, Liev Shrieber, etc.–and of course, was directed by Darren Aronofsky.

I did finish scanning my notes from my journal yesterday, which felt like a win, and I did some cleaning and organizing, too. The house feels very snug this morning–warm and cozy–which is really nice, and means I will get to spend some more time in my chair this morning reading and watching another history documentary; I found one on Louis XIII yesterday–the King of The Three Musketeers–who has always been overshadowed in French history by his father and son, as well as his chief minister, Cardinal Richelieu, who remains one of my favorite people in history. (I never could have picked an era of history to concentrate on had I become an historian…) The reign of Louis XIII is a very interesting period in French history, and that could very well be because of The Three Musketeers and my fervent desire to write the story from Milady’s perspective. That’s probably a pipe dream because I’ll never have the time to research and write the story, but it’s always there in the corner of my mind, like an annoying splinter that nags at me from time to time.

Today is going to be only slightly less relaxing from yesterday. I do need to clean and organize some more, and I do need to both read and write today. I also finished my old journal and started a new one this morning (and I put the date in it this time; I had a sense of time in the old ones based on the notes on short stories and novels I was actively working on at the time I was recording things in the journals, but the date will be ever so much more helpful, you know?). I also found a safe, out of the way place to store them going forward. I will continue to have to periodically do this with them, as I move on to other projects I’ve taken voluminous notes on in them–as well as short story and essay ideas that never moved from there to the active files–but it’s kind of fun to scan the pages and label them and put them away in the computer files. (That OCD thing never has gone completely away, and probably never will. Yay for chemical imbalances that are useful!)

The new season of Percy Jackson has dropped, too, which I am also looking forward to watching. I loved the world of Percy Jackson, and those are the books you should be giving your kids, not that other unoriginal and entirely ripped off fantasy series for kids whose author is raw sewage on a good day and a fiend from hell on bad ones. I greatly enjoyed reading the Percy Jackson books, and Rick Riordan’s other mythology based juvenile series are really the best, most engaging books. I would have loved them when I was a kid, because I loved ancient history and mythology growing up (thanks to Time-Life’s Great Ages of Man series, which my parents got for me). I’ve been trying to unpack my childhood and my life-long interests, and where those interests came from. Egypt, of course, is my favorite ancient empire; I’ve always had an affinity for Egypt and have always been drawn to it. (I’ve recently started another essay series about my Egyptian interests…beginning with the Time/Life Ancient Egypt book, a juvenile book called Cleopatra of Egypt and another one that was a mystery, The Mystery of the Pharaoh’s Treasure–and others along the way, including Amelia Peabody and Robin Cook’s Sphinx.)

And well, on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines for the day. I have to run to the grocery store, which I am going to do this morning, methinks, before coming back here and getting cleaned up and get that all over with…but first I am going to watch that documentary on Louis XIII while drinking coffee, eating breakfast and waking up completely. Have a lovely Sunday, wherever you find yourself, Constant Reader.

These lights–from the former human trafficking site Houmas House–are gorgeous.

I Take a Lot of Pride in What I Am

So, this is another Monday in one of the last weeks of 2025. I slept well, and only hit snooze twice, which was unusual. I feel rested and good this morning, which is absolutely delightful. I didn’t get all my chores done over the weekend, so I’ll have to put away dishes and so forth when I get home from work this evening. I also have some dishes to wash and put through the dishwasher, too. Yesterday was a nice, lovely, relaxing day. I finished watching The American Revolution and New Orleans Soul of a City (the last one was about the Saints and the Superdome–so the series was food, music, Carnival, and the Saints; pretty much the soul of New Orleans). The college football play-off seedings were released, to the anger of several fan bases, and LSU is going to the Texas Bowl to play Houston in Houston. We also watched The Roses, which was interesting. I also spent a lot of time scanning journal pages into my computer so I can get all my notes over the years on Chlorine easily accessible and in one place. It’s chilly this morning, but the rest of the week (I think) will have highs in the 1970s.

ICE is here, sweeping the city with a goal of five thousand “criminals” to deport from the New Orleans area–and they are doing it so far with all the skill, efficiency, and Constitutional adherence they’ve shown everywhere else they’ve invaded with their Gestapo tactics. The reports so far seem to have netted only thirty-eight arrests, a third of whom had criminal records (odds they’ll be here through Carnival?), and they seem to have primarily focused on the immigrant community in Kenner, the suburb with the airport and the last one before you hit swamp heading west on I-10. A friendly reminder, that always needs to be mentioned, that immigrants rebuilt the city after Katrina. That’s why New Orleans was a sanctuary city: gratitude, which always seems to be in such short supply in the American psyche. I’ve been blocking the racist trash from the outer parishes and “metro area” who always claim to be from New Orleans but never are, who show up with their hateful bullshit on social media. I drove one bitch all the way off Threads recently, who pulled the I live in New Orleans which then became I’m from New Orleans to I was born in New Orleans but a quick search of her social media (wide open, I might add) showed she actually lives in ALABAMA, like the lying piece of racist trash she was, and that her husband worked for a government contractor. When I asked her how her husband’s employer would react to her being a racist lying piece of shit on-line, POOF. She was gone.

Keep New Orleans out of your disgusting, filthy, lying racist-ass mouths–and if you’re going to be such a troll on-line, don’t use your real name and leave all of your social media open. They’re rarely smart, you know?

And for the record, racist skanks in the burbs, New Orleans has always had crime; it’s a port fucking city. The history of this city is drenched in blood spilled by violence. Y’all fled the city after integration. Fuck ALL the way off.

Nothing makes my blood boil more than non-New Orleanians complaining about New Orleans. Begone! You have no power here!

But as always, going through the journals to scan my notes from Chlorine (I actually found the very first time I wrote the idea down, which was kind of cool) was revelatory; I really need to go through my journals more regularly to remind myself what is in there. There are some terrific ideas for short stories and essays in there, as well as notes on multiple projects that are still unfinished. As I was saying yesterday, my journals are far more informative about my writing process than anything in the files, so I think one of my projects for the rest of December is to ditch a lot of my files and get everything compressed into the filing cabinet. I also need to prune the books some more, and start clearing out the storage attic, and take everything off the tops of the kitchen cabinets (I literally have boxes of books everywhere).

And then there’s that moment when Carl Hiaasen shares your newsletter post reviewing hid book Fever Beach–yes, I still fanboy all the time. Eeee! (And it’s getting lots of likes and shares, which is really cool and was never the point of the review!)

And so, without anymore delays, I am heading into the spice mines this morning. Have yourself a merry little Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on Tuesday morning!

The river parishes light bonfires on the levees to direct Papa Noel, an incredibly cool Louisiana tradition. They feature prominently in Ellen Byron’s mystery A Cajun Country Christmas.