Tag: Everybody Knows

Heartbreaker

Well, here we are on Memorial Day Monday–it’s now been 22 years since that dreadful one back in 2004–and I made myself get up early so tomorrow isn’t such a complete and utter shock to my system. I’m about to get another cup of coffee, so bear with me this morning. I feel good and rested, if a bit groggy, but that’s to be expected when I’ve been sleeping late the last few days. It was a lovely long weekend, at least so far, and I do feel pretty good about things. I need to do some chores this morning and get the house under control. Paul is going to be at the gym today, so I have the afternoon here by myself to get some of this mess under control. I think I’m also going to do some reading this morning, too. I’ve selected my next book to read, and there’s also my lovely reread of The Ivy Tree to look forward to getting into. I also want to do some writing today, too, but we’ll see how that goes.

And yes, moving on to my next read means that yes, I did finish A Violent Masterpiece by Jordan Harper yesterday afternoon, which I really enjoyed. I am still processing the book and my thoughts, honestly, and will take me a few days to process what I just read (and thoroughly enjoyed). Jordan Harper has, I will say, joined the ranks of the straight men I will read–and while I know that doesn’t mean a thing to him, for a queer man who’s completely over the entire “complicated white man” narratives, which usually also means completely unrealistic women–and don’t get me started on how they write about racialized people and queers–that really is something. It also didn’t hurt that I am also writing a book about the corruption and filth under the shiny surface of Hollywood, so it was timely in that regard; it’s an excellent continuation of Everybody Knows, which I also loved.

Paul was sleeping on the couch while I was reading, so put on The Traitors Season 3 for background noise while I did and it never ceases to amaze me how well this show is put together. Having now watched every single episode of every season on Peacock, I am not sure if I am ready to write my newsletter about it, either. (I am not sure I am ready to write much of anything at this point, honestly.) I ordered pizza from Reginelli’s for dinner, and we started the new season of Rivals–I didn’t remember much of it–which took a bit of getting oriented to with the first episode–and then caught another episode of House of Ashur, which is getting better (although I saw this morning that Starz cancelled it, so no second season), and there are some other shows of interest on my streaming platforms; I just have to remember to pick one and to remember all the ones I do pay for. I really need to be more on top of my life, don’t I? Heavy sigh.

It’s gloomy outside, and I just heard a bit of thunder, so I am sure it’s going to rain again today. Yay! And yes, it’s going to rain most of the day and overnight, so I am definitely not going to want to get out of bed tomorrow morning–but at least my car is getting washed. And I did have that on my to-do list for the weekend…so progress is definitely being made on the house. Paul’s surgery is this Friday, too, so I should be able to get some reading done during the surgery and he’ll probably be zonked out for most of that day when I get him home. And then there’s the recovery, and then he’s getting the other one done. Sigh. But at least once he’s healed he won’t be in pain anymore. Always a plus, and I know from experience how nice it is to finally be free from pain. It’s like a brand new life.

I also managed to do a lot of scribbling in my journal yesterday, and some of it was very good work for the current book project and made me feel like I was accomplishing something. It’s also inspiring me to do more, and as I said, reading a good book inspires me to be more creative, to work harder, and be better. I never understand being jealous of other writers. You read writers whose work you enjoy because it’s inspiring, rather than seeing it as competition. We aren’t competing against each other in the first place for anything other than awards, and who cares about those anyway? Having been a judge numerous times, it always comes down to the personal tastes of the judges, so losing isn’t really losing in the first place; it’s no different from preferring Coke to Pepsi, really, or Raising Canes to KFC. No book is exactly like another, and if they were, who would want to read them?

And on that note, I am going to get a second cup of coffee, wash my face thoroughly, and adjure to my easy chair, where I’ll start reading my next read–and maybe check the news to see what fresh horrors there are. At any rate, enjoy your holiday and I will be here again, bright and early, in the morning.

Out queer actor Angus O’Brien, from Boots

Rated X

Sunday morning, a good night’s sleep, and the rain continues today. It was very cozy inside the house all day yesterday, and I had a lovely, relaxing day of scribbling in my journal, working on newsletters, and reading more of A Violent Masterpiece, which I am really enjoying even as the plot kind of makes my skin crawl. It’s also so well-written it’s kind of inspirational. We also caught up on Hacks, and watched more of House of Ashur. Overall, it was pretty much a lovely, chill, relaxing day and this morning I feel very rested and relaxed, which is great; I’ve not really felt like this since getting back from my trip. I also slept a bit later–blame it on the rain–than I had intended to this morning–Sparky was a cuddlebug this morning rather than an “I must be fed!” immediacy he will use if he hears the alarm. Paul is going to the gym today, so I should have most of the afternoon free to do with as much as I please. I may try to write some today–I was making notes on revisions to make and writing to do yesterday–but there’s also some mess I have to clean up and organize and straighten today. Sigh–it never end, does it?

This week, while running errands in the car, out of nowhere I commanded Siri to play Pat Benatar’s Crimes of Passion album, and almost fifty years since it’s release it’s still a fucking banger of an album. I haven’t heard much about her in years, but I’ve noticed she hasn’t been “rediscovered” by the Gen Z reaction videos, nor is she mentioned in conversations about great women singers of the second half of the 20th century, which is a disgrace. The power and range in her voice! Her songs often were from the perspective of a strong woman who won’t put up with your nonsense, and she was fun to sing along to–and she had a lot of great songs, too.

I’m loving all this rain, not going to lie about it. It was amazing curling up with Sparky with a blanket and my book yesterday while the rain fell outside and on the house–absolutely perfect. It also helped that the book is so amazing and like its brilliant predecessor Everybody Knows (that weary sounding title being absolutely perfect) takes on a subject I feel very strongly about. It’s also inspiring me to work some more on Chlorine and to make that book darker still than I had originally planned. There’s so much darkness in Hollywood–and it has always been there, from the very beginning. I certainly don’t ever have to worry about it being too dark, can I? Hollywood’s decay and rot and absolute cruelty in chewing people up and spitting them back out again, bereft of success and their soul hollowed, into the gutters of the Dream Factory (has anyone written a Disney Babylon book?). I read a lot of trashy Hollywood novels in the 1970s, and that was pretty much the entire thread-line to all of them; Hollywood is cold and cruel and will use you up–and is there anything more cruel than deliberately setting someone up to shatter their dreams?

I see our flash flood watch has been extended through tomorrow evening at seven pm, so that most likely means it will keep raining and there are thunderstorms on the way–and it is delightful for me. It sounds to me like there will be plenty of opportunities for me to get some reading done. I am also trying to decide whether or not to go make groceries or simply have them delivered; I don’t know what I am going to make for dinner tonight. Maybe shrimp scampi, or something like that? Shrimp tacos, maybe? I guess I need to put some thought into that a bit more, don’t I? Swedish meatballs is also a possibility. I think I’ll just let that thought simmer in my head until I subconsciously figure it out.

A friend mentioned one of my favorite books on social media this week (Thomas Thompson’s Celebrity), which I’ve not thought about in a very long time and am considering a reread, once I finish the reread of The Ivy Tree. It’s truly a splendid, well written and plotted book about three men, high achool friends who do something awful on Graduation Night and it haunts them as they get older and more famous as a writer, movie star, and cult leader; it’s rich and layered and sad and tragic and the men aren’t heroes you root for; they were deeply flawed men with complicated moralities–and one has to wonder how that tragic rainy night when they were eighteen shaped them into the flawed, complicated men they became. The movie star–Mack Crawford–had a very complicated sexuality, which should be my primary focus on the reread; how his sexual dysfunction and self-loathing also shaped who he was. Thompson also wrote one of my favorite true crime books of all time, Blood and Money–which I should also revisit.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines to drink some more coffee and spend some more time with my book, blanket, and cat puddle in my lap. I will be back tomorrow morning, so have a lovely day!

Panama City Beach, Florida

Half the Way

Saturday morning here in the Lost Apartment!

I am very worn down this morning, after our big day of appointments and picking up medications and Costco yesterday. I had an amazing dinner at Lilette with my friend Laura–I had sizzling shrimp and blackened onion and garlic soup; chef’s kiss, really, along with a very dry martini and a very delicious glass of white wine–and then came home, exhausted, and watched another episode of The Traitors Canada, which I’m really enjoying, before heading up to bed and sleep. It was a very good day, but I didn’t get any chores done and I never got irritated all day, despite all the driving an not taking my medications in the morning before leaving the house. Over all, it was a pretty good day, and I was most pleased with myself last night when I closed my eyes with my head on the pillow.

It’s also election day in Louisiana, and you can best bet I’ll be walking over to the International School on Camp Street and voting against everything our POS governor is trying to get passed; he and the rest of the racist trash in Baton Rouge need to be delivered a stinging rebuke from the voters–they need to know how sick we are of their fucking bullshit and their war on New Orleans. Maybe it’s time for New Orleans to withhold its tax revenues from Baton Rouge and give the criminal fucks nothing to steal for a year or two. I’d actually love for the IRS to audit every elected politician in the state, as well as being investigated by the FBI for fraud and bribery. I have faith in our newly elected mayor and city council to flip them the bird and refuse to knuckle under; history isn’t on their side. Baton Rouge has historically never been able to make New Orleans buckle under; I see no reason to infer our city leadership won’t defy the authoritarianistic racism coming from the capital. Fuckers, seriously.

I started reading Jordan Harper’s A Violent Masterpiece while waiting for Paul at his appointments, and whoa, it’s really excellent. It’s a continuation of some of the unresolved issues from Everybody Knows, which I thought was amazing. Good writing is always inspirational and aspirational for me; so I am probably going to spend some time reading it around all the chores and things I need to get done around here today. The place is a wreck, from top to bottom, and again I am very disappointed in myself for letting it get to this state over the course of the week. I need to empty the dishwasher and do the bed linens and a load of clothes today. I also need to have some groceries made and delivered. I also need to resist the temptation of Youtube wormholes today. I will watch some more of The Traitors Canada–Paul will be out of the house all afternoon, and we are thinking about starting Amadeus and House of Ashur this weekend. I also want to rewatch The Mummy Returns for a Mummy newsletter to add to my Egyptian series–and of course, I scheduled one to go out today at noon. I’ll probably spend some time working on newsletters today and a short story–that’s the plan, and to edit the first chapter of the new version/draft of Chlorine. Maybe a hair too ambitious, but I always think I can do more than I actually can. Some things never change, medication be damned.

Sigh.

Okay, I think it’s time for me to bring this to a close for this morning and get started on the cleaning and go vote and get cleaned up. I am not going to overdue it this morning, but I definitely want to get some things done. We’ll see how it goes. So have yourself a lovely little Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow, all rested and perky.

One would hope, right?

I’ve always blasphemously called this statue Drag Queen Jesus, because it looks like he’s dancing and the chorus of “It’s Raining Men” just started playing.

The Boss

Work at home Friday! I didn’t have to go into the office today after all; the person I was covering for didn’t need me to cover for them after all, so I get to drink my own coffee and do some of my work-at-home chores in my pajamas–including my team meeting. Yay! Yesterday was a gray, rainy day, the kind that is also cold so you get that lovely cold dampness that goes right through you to the bone. I ran my errands on the way home, and I don’t have to leave the house at all today unless I so choose–and I am rather leaning towards choosing no definitively already. I woke up the remnants of a thunderstorm; everything outside my windows is wet and dripping. Yeah, definitely not leaving the house today if I don’t absolutely have to–I can run errands and make groceries tomorrow. I am going to do some chores this morning when I need a break from the computer–dishes, laundry, picking up, etc.–but thanks to the midweek weekend we enjoyed because of the holiday, I am not as far behind on housework as I usually am. Sparky let me sleep late this morning, and was a little cuddlebug before I did get up. It’s not even about getting more sleep anymore, it’s more along the lines of way too comfortable for me to get up. Paul was at the gym when I got home from doing some minor errands after work last night, and then after he came home he went upstairs to work for the evening, leaving me and Sparky to entertain ourselves downstairs, which is why I did some picking up and cleaning last night. Looking around this morning, I can honestly wonder why I didn’t do more last night. Hmmm.

I worked a bit on a Substack essay last night, too; the one I worked the most on is about outing and speculating about celebrity sexuality. Many of the essay drafts I have saved on Substack were triggered initially by something that happened in the world; this one “”Johnny Are You Queer?” was inspired by Shawn Mendes having to address all the rumors and speculation about his sexuality, and how that made me feel. It was the second time a celebrity had to do this recently, the other being Kit Conner from Heartstopper. Both instances made me look at the subject in an entirely new (and more empathetic) light, which was frighteningly staggering; I thought how could I ever speculate about a celebrity’s sexuality, when I personally know what it feels like to have people speculate about you that way–and I was never a good-looking hot young celebrity, either, which would be exponentially worse. This led me to how “outing” originally started; it was a political act of protest from a community that was dying and no one cared, and a way to strike at closet cases who were actively harming the queer community (remember anti-gay Aaron Schock and his Downtown Abbey congressional office? He’s now an A-Gay living on the party circuit, and much happier than when he was a closeted anti-gay politician. I’d say that worked out pretty well for him in the long run, wouldn’t you?). Outing eventually got out of control and more of a tabloid monster, far from its original intent, but I’m also thinking about privacy rights now a lot more than I ever did when I was younger–which I am trying to explore in more detail in the essay. I am also writing one about organized Christianity, but it keeps getting longer with more examples because cosplay Christians are always going to cosplay with their full chests while denying Christ with every breath they take.

I generally don’t pay too much attention to celebrity drama, mainly because I don’t care that much about celebrities; as I’ve gotten older, I care less about entertainment news and the celebrity gossip machine. I remember the Blake Lively thing from last summer when that movie was released, and how she was getting a lot of press for being, well, a difficult bitch on set. I did think it was strange–I generally can’t avoid celebrity gossip, despite trying very hard because it’s fucking everywhere–that if she was that awful, why were all her co-stars and everyone else involved with the movie backing her? Now, I’ve thought Justin Baldoni was hot since his days on Jane the Virgin, and I even bought his book about being a male feminist; because I’ve really been thinking about masculinity and what it means to be a man, which is what the book is about. I’ve not read the book–I still might, just to see what it says; even if he’s a hypocrite, that doesn’t necessarily mean he doesn’t have a point about some things–but of course the story exploded everywhere again on Christmas Eve when Lively sued Baldoni, claiming he hired a PR team to destroy Lively’s reputation so her concerns about inappropriate behavior on set by Baldoni wouldn’t be taken seriously–and she has receipts. Celebrity fan culture in this country really is something, and it really is out of control; I don’t know why so many people think being a fan of an artist entitles them to know everything about that artist (see above paragraph about speculating about celebrity sexuality), not to mention the horrors of being a celebrity on social media. Yikes, indeed. All I will say is that Hollywood has always had fixers; the only difference is that now they are guns for hire rather than salaried studio employees. Jordan Harper’s Everybody Knows explores the horrible world of Hollywood PR and what they cover up, and how they spin damage away from their client to someone else, even if that someone else’s life or career is destroyed by the spin. (Read Jordan’s book, seriously.) There’s a decent show on Prime starring Anna Paquin in which she plays a spin-doctor-for-hire, Flacks.

It’s also why no one can ever completely trust celebrity news; it’s literally the prime example of fake news.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader. I may be back later, one never knows. If not, though, I will definitely be back in the morning tomorrow.

Yea, he’s handsome and has an exceptional build, but Zac Efron is more talented than he gets credit for.

Hell is for Children

Hollywood has always been interesting to me, ever since I was a kid. I am not as obsessed with Hollywood and celebrity culture as I used to be; I used to love awards shows but now find them kind of tedious and a lot of to-do about nothing very much. Paul and I used to watch any and every awards show, regardless of what they were for; now it’s just easier to follow live updates and skip the forced, awkward scripted banter and speeches where winners attempt to thank everyone they know before the band starts playing them off.1 That’s always cringey to me–not for the person the band is playing for, but for the event itself. I get that they want it to end on time, but at the same time it seems bad form to celebrate someone and then cut them off as they do celebrate? Your mileage, as they say, may vary.

One thing I did notice when my Hollywood fascination was at its peak was how cleaned up and sanitized Hollywood bios were, as opposed to the fiction written about Hollywood. You’d never know, for example, from reading a biography of Spencer Tracy that he wasn’t just “good friends” with Katharine Hepburn, or that Roddy McDowell never married for a reason, or that some stars may have been forced to have sex with casting directors, agents, and producers to get started. But those marvelous Hollywood novels (dismissed and disdained by critics as trash) were so much fun to read, and they always ended in tragedy. I also always wondered–affairs and divorces were also fairly common amongst Hollywood celebrities–how much truth there was in those stories; often I could identify characters as real people (for some books–cough Valley of the Dolls cough–trying to figure out who the characters were based on was part of the fun of reading them). And of course, the existence of “studio fixers”–yeah, there’s still a bunch of stories from Hollywood’s past we may never know the real story behind, let alone the stuff they buried so completely it’ll never be known–definitely speaks to the need for them, so yeah, Hollywood had a lot of secrets.

And now, knowing what I know about powerful Hollywood figures and how they behave? I’d be more surprised if they didn’t see the contract players as a harem of men and women for them to play games with.

I also have a tendency to avoid highly praised writers and books (and other forms of entertainment, of course), because I always end up disappointed, which is fault of neither author nor their work. Jordan Harper has been praised a lot, so I was hesitant to read him…but having now read Everybody Knows, I don’t regret waiting to read it because I saved a real treat for myself.

For want of a better word, wow.

Los Angeles burns.

Some sicko is torching homeless camps. Tonight they hit a tent city in Los Feliz near the 5. The fire spread to Griffin Park. The smoke makes the sunset unbelievable. The particles in the air slash the light, shift it red. They make the sky a neon wound.

Mae waits outside the secret entrance to the Chateau Marmont. She watches Saturday-night tourists wander Sunset Boulevard, their eyes bloodshot from the smoke. They cough and trade looks. They never thought the Sunset Strip would smell like a campfire.

Mae moves around the sidewalk like a boxer before the fight. Her face is sharp and bookish, framed in a Lulu bob. She wears a vintage floral jumpsuit. She’s got eyes like a wolf on the hunt–she hides them behind chunky oversized glasses. Nobody ever sees her coming.

Jordan Harper is an amazing writer. That’s where we need to start with this book. Yes, the story is compelling and fascinating and dirty and sleazy and makes you kind of want to take a Silkwood shower. The characters–all of them, from the two leads on–are defined and fully dimensional, with interior lives and motivations. Our two main characters, Mae and Chris, are modern-day fixers…but in modern times they’re called “flacks” and work for “p.r. firms”, even if their job is the same as the tough guys who worked for MGM and Warners and Fox back in the day. But the writing is what sold me on book and writer; those opening paragraphs are as fine a series of opening paragraphs I’ve ever read. The dialogue is real, the characters are awful but you understand why they are awful–and both Mae and Chris have seen their fair share of horrific cover-ups and helping their clients get off scot-free every time they get in over their heads. In the very first chapter, Mae is on the job helping a young former child actress transitioning into adult roles out of drug overdose situation in her rooms at the Marmont, and her quick thinking and moving gets the young woman out of there without being seen or caught.

Mae is very good at her job.

Her boss sets up a meeting with her–off the books, away from the office–but on his way to meet her, he is murdered. It’s supposedly a car-jacking go wrong, but Mae has to wonder, is it? He’d seemed like he was about to hit a financial bonanza, but needed her help. Mae decides to look into his murder–which Chris winds up working as well from another direction. Mae and Chris didn’t work out the first time–but they’ve never forgotten each other, and soon join forces. Both were coming to the conclusion that their jobs were sleazy and they were helping bad people get away with doing bad things, and when they realize what is at the root of all the trouble, they see it as an opportunity to make some cash and perhaps do a little good on their way out to retirement.

And what’s going on in Hollywood is something horrible, indeed.

I loved this book, and deeply resented not having the time to read it all the way through in one sitting, so am really glad I made the time to sit down and finish it–in one sitting. I was about forty or fifty pages in, and sat down and didn’t budge till it was done. That authorial voice! The influence of the hardboiled masters is clearly there, but Harper has his own distinctive style and authorial voice that makes him unique in the business–and that’s not an easy thing to do.

I can’t wait to read more of his work.

  1. I do think this aversion, or lack of interest, in awards shows has come from attending so many writing awards banquets, and yes, it’s a lovely problem to have. At some point I will go talk about my antipathy to awards…but must and always will confess to loving being nominated for things. My jones for that itch to be scratched has happened more than I could have ever dreamed. ↩︎

Ruby Baby

And Saturday morning has rolled around again, and it’s a lovely morning here in the Lost Apartment. The LSU game tonight is being televised (SEC Network) so I can flip back and forth between LSU and the Georgia-Alabama game. There aren’t many games on today that I feel the need to watch or even follow, but I can have the games on while I do other things. Yesterday I ended up taking the day off–I didn’t know how long I’d be out with the errands so I just bit the bullet and took a personal day. It ended up being a lovely day; the weather was very spectacular; in the heat of the summer it’s easy to forget how gorgeous it is here the rest of the year. After the errands were done, I finished reading Jordan Harper’s superb Everybody Knows (more on that later), cleaned up the house some, and had a rather nice day at home with Sparky. I think for the weekend I am going to reread two rather short horror novels to get in the mood for Halloween Horror Month, and the first read of that month will be Gabino Iglesias’ House of Rain and Bone.

We started watching Grotesquerie last night, and it’s really superb. Niecy Nash-Betts is a fantastic actress with incredible range, and this part is perfect for her. The show is very creepy and reminiscent in some ways of the classic Seven, from the 1990’s with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman (which is also my favorite Gwyneth Paltrow film), and we were sucked in again. I hope the show doesn’t wind up going off the rails, as so many of Murphy’s shows do, but I am looking forward to watching. I’m actually also still thinking about Monsters–isn’t the point of great art to unsettle you, make you see things from a different perspective, and perhaps even change your mind about something? I don’t know that I’m interested in learning any more about the case–not doing any deep dives into the Menendez case, but watching the show did give a fresh perspective on the case, and society and the culture have changed significantly since the murders and the trials.

I do have some errands to run today–I need to get the mail, drop books off at the library sale, wash the car, and make a grocery run. I ordered a new desk chair (my old one was torn to shreds by Skittle…and he’s been gone for fourteen years) because this old one is definitely ready to be retired and sent to the dumpster. I don’t think I am going to cook out this weekend–unless I decide to barbecue that pork tenderloin in the freezer; tenderloin always tastes better when it’s got a bit of burnt crust. Note to self: either set it out to defrost or get something else at the Fresh Market for dinner tomorrow. Of course, I could just get a pizza for tomorrow…decisions, decisions. I also want to make some more progress on the book today and the Scotty Bible; I need to mark pages in the last two Scotty books, and I am also trying to decide how this current one works out (I did solve problems I was having with two other works-in-progress, Muscles and Chlorine; reading good writers always gives me inspiration for my own; thanks, Jordan!). The Saints play the Dirty Birds tomorrow, and I’ll probably do a grocery run tomorrow, too. I also want to get caught on some blog posts that have been in drafts for a while, and I’ve not done a Substack in quite a while–you can’t build an audience (I blocked a right-winger yesterday who started following me; no fucking thanks, treasonous scum) without posting.

And there’s always, always, cleaning to do.

But…truth be told, I don’t feel anxious or stressed about anything. That’s actually kind of lovely, you know? I also want to watch Saturday Night Live tonight–at least the cold open, I can always stream it tomorrow–but not sure if I want to stay up that late. I stayed up later than I intended to last night, which was fine, but I managed to get up at eight anyway (thanks to Sparky) and I feel good today. I need some more coffee and some breakfast, and to get cleaned up, but I kind of want to get the kitchen and so forth under control before I run my errands before coming home to watch games and do things. I had the Eras tour on yesterday while I read and cleaned, and it really is very excellent; reminding me again of what a force of talented creativity Taylor Swift is–and the way those massive crowds react to her is really something to see, the joy on the faces of people actually there as they dance and sing along with her as she puts on a helluva show. (I still wish she’d done “Red,” but her choices from the Red album were pretty good ones, and the ten-minute version of “All Too Well” certainly belongs on the set list.) So, of course MAGA has targeted her–they want to kill all joy. Period. The Joy Killers is what we should be calling them.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close so I can get more coffee and have breakfast. Have a spectacular Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back for sure.

Screenshot

Trouble in Paradise

Work at home Friday (gotta get down it’s Friday) and I slept a little later than I thought I would; Sparky didn’t even try to wake me up at the usual time (how does he know?) but there you have it. I feel good and rested this morning, and I have errands to run this morning before my work-at-home chores this afternoon. I have to take Paul to some appointments and since I’m already out, might as well run my own while I’m at it, right? I am going to get a new desk chair today; this one is incredibly old–I bought it when we moved back in here after Katrina from the carriage house–and Skittle is the one who ripped it to shreds, and he’s been gone since 2010, so yeah, I am overdue for a new one. It always sinks, too, so I sit too low at the computer.

I hope everyone still in Helene’s path are sheltering safely, and those over whom it has already passed are okay. She’s turned out to be quite the bitch. I worry about the flooding, which looks to be horrific. Although all this rain water and swollen flooding rivers will help deter this year’s salt intrusion up the river, which isn’t a bad thing.

I had a pretty decent day, but by the time I got home from work last night I was feeling a little brain fatigue. I worked a bit on the Scotty Bible last night (got Garden District Gothic entered, leaving only a few left to go, including Jackson Square Jazz), and went ahead and rewatched the first two episodes of Monsters, and within the context of the rest of the series, they aren’t as bad as I originally thought they were. I’m still not sure whose perspective that first episode was supposed to be from, but I think it’s the American public’s, and the second was the cops’. It is really interesting how much thinking I’ve done about this show, and there’s some interesting commentary, methinks, that I should be able to write and talk about. I want to start watching Grotesquerie tonight (love me some Niecy Nash-Betts) after Paul gets home, and I also want to get some cleaning done today. I have to launder the bed linens, and there’s still a sink filled with dishes to wash. Heavy sigh. But I was thinking last night I might put the film of the Eras tour on again while I am working around the house today; I do love me some Taylor Swift, and I was thinking I am not as familiar with her newer stuff as I am her older stuff (which I still love and has never gotten old to me), and I enjoyed the concert film, so why not watch it again?

The LSU game tomorrow night is being broadcast on the SEC Network, so I can watch it if I so desire, but it’s also on at the same time as Georgia-Alabama, which is what I will probably end up watching. The Saints game is at noon on Sunday, and we’re playing the hated Falcons, so I am going to have to plan my Sunday around that. I am not sure of the college football schedule for tomorrow, but I should try to do any remaining errands tomorrow morning before the games start. A quick glance over the schedule really doesn’t show anything I absolutely must watch, so I am hopeful I won’t go into a football coma and get sucked into watching games I don’t care about all day. Que sera, sera.

I am going to be taking Jordan Harper’s Everybody Knows with me on this morning’s Paul’s appointments tour of the city, and I also hope to finish reading it this weekend before diving into my October Horror reading, starting with a reread of We Have Always Lived in the Castle and Gabino Iglesias’ new book. I’d like to get through several horror novels this coming month, but I also am not sure how that would look. I am going to have to go up to Kentucky later in the month–LSU’s bye weekend is looking pretty good for that trip–and I should be able to get a lot of reading done while I am up there. Also, I can listen to books in the car. I am probably going to meet Dad in Alabama for the weekend weekend after next (the Mississippi game), and then go up to Kentucky a week or so later for a longer visit. It’ll be cold up there (of course), but it’s been a hot minute so I’ll probably drive up on a Saturday and back on Sunday.

And on that note, I am bringing this to a close so I can get cleaned up and do some other things this morning. Have a lovely Friday, and please please please stay safe if you’re in the path of Helene.

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Room Full of Roses

Monday morning has rolled around again somehow, and it’s another week of work for me (and everyone else). I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning–and I’d really like to go back to bed–but I feel okay as far as rest and everything is concerned. My neck has been sore for a few days because I slept on it wrong (it’s sooo much fun being old), so I’ve been making sure my head is correctly positioned on my pillows the last couple of nights and what do you know, it’s gotten better. The one thing I hate about being older is that you have to be a lot more careful about doing things, else you’ll be sorry. I’m not very keen on that aspect of being older, frankly. The Saints lost yesterday in the final minute, which was disappointing, but I think the Eagles are one of the better teams in the NFL? I probably should start paying more attention to the NFL overall, I suppose, but it’s still too early in the season to start thinking about play-offs and so forth.

I did make a grocery run yesterday morning–I’ll have to stop on the way home to get a few things I didn’t get, but other than that, it’s straight home for me tonight. We almost finished Monster: The Erik and Lyle Menendez Story, which apparently the brothers aren’t all that happy with; and in all honesty, I thought the first episode was truly terrible and we weren’t going to watch any more of it…but after the game yesterday we decided to give the second episode a try, and we got hooked into it. I’ve not seen much chatter about the show, but the acting is really good and while the writing and plotting are all over the place (the Dominick Dunne representation by Nathan Lane is quite good, but very reminiscent of Truman Capote from Feud), it’s very well done and while there are some things I don’t remember in the story (doesn’t mean they didn’t happen; it was over thirty years ago they killed their parents and my memory isn’t good anymore), it’s not intended to be factual but entertainment. I don’t know how I would feel about my life being offered up as fictionalized entertainment for the huddled, teeming masses (and hopefully will never find out). But we’re enjoying it, and I’ll talk about it more once we’ve finished watching.

I didn’t get any writing done this weekend, and that’s perfectly okay. I was very low energy both Friday and Saturday, and finally felt more like me yesterday. But after the grocery run and the Saints game, I just wasn’t up for writing…and the primary reason was I got very deep into Jordan Harper’s Everybody Knows and I even hated to put it down to watch the Saints game, but I was so into it that I was reading during the game. I will most likely finish it this week or this weekend, and I will have a lot to say about this incredible novel when I do finish it. I’ve really hit a lucky streak with my reading–this and the forthcoming Alison Gaylin are both fantastic; and I am really looking forward to all the good reads in my TBR pile. It’s also eerie reading Harper’s book, having recently watched Quiet on the Set and with the currently breaking Sean Combs story, which is truly terrifying and sending, it seems, even bigger shockwaves through the entertainment business than even Epstein’s arrest. I will have some things to say when I do finally write about Harper’s book, which is truly incredible; I can see why it got so much awards love; I would have short-listed it myself had I been a judge that year.

Reading other good writers always inspires me; this is how I can tell someone is a truly terrific talent–I get ideas of my own from reading their work, and will note phrases and sentences that sound like great titles. This is why, I think, I always have so much trouble talking about my influences, because I’m influenced by everything I read, whether I like it, enjoy it, love it, or hate it. Same will visual media–film and television. (For example, that Menendez show makes me think, again, about murders within the family, and how monstrous those stories are. I can’t imagine killing my father or my sister, under any circumstance, because it’s not even on my register. And killing your mother? Yeah, can’t even conceive of any reason powerful enough to do that…so I am lucky and kind of grateful to be lucky.)

So, I’m kind of hoping to have a good week this week, with reading and writing and cleaning and filing everything. I feel good going into the week, so let’s hope this lasts. And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in again at some point.

Please Don’t Tell Me How The Story Ends

And now it’s Saturday, and I feel pretty good this morning. There’s lots to do, of course, before the LSU game at 2:30 today; dishes to put away and filing, a couple of errands to run, and of course, as always, cleaning. After work yesterday and running the errands–including Costco–I was very tired when I got home. I wasn’t very energetic yesterday as it was–I could tell the low energy from Thursday had carried over–and it was hard enough putting away the Costco purchases when we got back from that. We also started watching Agatha All Along (more on that later) before going to bed. I slept really well, which was nice, and now I am hoping to get some things done today. I want to finish entering the notes from the marked-up Scotty books into the Bible this weekend, and I also want to mark up the last two so I can get that part of it finished before going through it all and organizing it. I also want to write tomorrow before the Saints game. I also have to make groceries tomorrow morning, but I am going to try to get up fairly early (like today, Sparky got me up at seven) so I can get that done early so I can write some more tomorrow. I also want to do some reading this weekend. I’m really enjoying Jordan Harper’s Everybody Knows–he has a terrific writing style and authorial voice–and it would be great to finish reading it this weekend so I can move on to my reread of We Have Always Lived in the Castle to prep for Halloween Horror Month.

I also need to check the to-do list. I do want to wash the car this weekend, too–perhaps I can get that done this morning if I time everything correctly and I don’t laze around this morning–always a problem. I have any number of other entries I’d also like to get finished at some point–especially two book reviews of recent reads I enjoyed a lot–and I haven’t done a newsletter on Substack for two weeks now, so I am a bit overdue there, too. Heavy heaving sigh, and there’s some emails to answer as well. But…things will get done when they get done, and I don’t really berate myself (or feel like a loser) when I don’t get things done. There’s an essay (which would fit into the ‘my gay life’ essays) I want to get done about jockstraps, of all things; jockstraps are definitely a gay fetish object, they turned 150 years old a few weeks ago, and there’s a piece on them in The Advocate I want to read for background purposes. I cannot speak to why they are such objects of eroticization for so many gay men, although I suspect it has a lot to do with junior/senior high school locker rooms, gym classes, and sports. There’s also some other topics I want to address, but there’s only so much time in a day, isn’t there? Like I want to finish this, get another cup of coffee, and go sit in the living room and read for a while rather than doing anything else on the computer.

There’s also a system in the Gulf near the Yucatan that may organize into another tropical storm–same place where Francine got her act together–that I need to keep a wary eye on, and there are two more crossing the Atlantic, too. Heavy heaving sigh. But at least the heat has broken into something bearable–maybe not for people who don’t like warm weather, we’re so acclimated here that what we consider ‘bearable’ would be miserable for other people. Likewise, people from elsewhere are often excited when the weather gets back up to the fifties and sixties, which is literally winter down here.

I was also rather thrilled because they had one of my extravagances at Costco yesterday, Clearly Canadian flavored sparkling water. I generally get individual bottles at the Fresh Market for about three dollars not on sale, and yesterday they had a box of twelve for $11.99! You best bet that box went right into the cart, and I am now hoping they will always have it. I do miss my mozzarella salad, or those bacon wrapped chicken breasts stuffed with cheese that they never seem to have any more, but the Clearly Canadian was an absolute score–and I don’t mind having to get three of my least favorite flavor (cherry) to get nine bottles of flavors I like. I really miss the green apple, though–that was my favorite.

I also dipped into this new season of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which I only began watching last season, and wow, is this show off the chain or what? This season the insanity begins in the very first episode, and it looks like this entire season is going to be insane. Hurray!

All right, I need another cup of coffee and something to eat so I can get this day underway. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I may or may not be back a little later; one never truly knows, does on?

If You Love Me Let Me Know

I slept late this morning, but feel good now that I am awake. I did stay up later than I should have watching games last night, but I couldn’t turn off the Georgia-Kentucky game until the end. Georgia survived their closest non-Alabama game in quite a while, before prevailing 13-12 in a nail-biter in Lexington. My coffee tastes wonderful this morning, and I am slowly swimming up from the depths of Morpheus-induced slumber (strongly aided by Trazodone). When I first got up I debated maybe you don’t have to make groceries today but I really do need to. The Saints game starts at 1, so I’ll probably go during that to avoid traffic and other shoppers; New Orleans is a ghost town during games, and as long as I am home to catch the second half, that should do the trick. I did have a good day yesterday, despite all the games I watched; I was able to get more work done on the Scotty Bible (finding more discrepancies in the series), I did read some more of Everybody Knows, I got the dishes done finally, and did some cleaning around here, which is cool; it was nice coming downstairs and not seeing a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. I also worked some more on the books and straightened up the living room. Still need to do more cleaning, but am very pleased with the State of the Lost Apartment.

LSU played early yesterday, and it was a nail-biting, sloppy game with lots of penalties (and I feel like the officials kind of had their thumb on the scale a bit for LSU; some of the calls they made raised my eyebrows, and I was rooting for LSU. They did wind up winning, 36-33, but they look like they haven’t completely gelled as a team. Garrett Nussmeier can throw for sure, but there was also some incredibly stupid play-calling by the offensive coordinator (I was reminded of the Les Miles era; I wasn’t the only one because a headline on the Times-Picayune reads “Les Miles would have enjoyed LSU’s sloppy 36-33 win”). It was also weird because we actually don’t know how good South Carolina really is; they trounced Kentucky last week, and last night Kentucky almost knocked off Georgia, only to lose to LSU this week. After the LSU game ended, I watched Florida’s season start circling the drain again as they got trounced at home by Texas A&M, who lost to Notre Dame last week; you see how this is going? This is, I think, going to be an extremely strange season, and right now I am picking Texas to win the SEC.

Tulane also lost to Oklahoma yesterday, but they gave the Sooners what-for before going down to defeat.

I did run out yesterday to the Fresh Market to pick up a few things–fresh ground hamburger for grilling, and a meal kit of shrimp scampi for tonight–and so heading over to the West Bank today (which I was on the fence about when I got up) doesn’t seem as daunting now that I am waking up. Paul might have his trainer today, and thus will be gone for a bit anyway; perfect timing, and I can also stop for lunch at either Five Guys or Sonic; this decision is a tough one, frankly, but will probably go for Sonic. (These are the important decisions I face down every day, you know.)

I also took notes on the next chapter of the book, which I hope to tackle at some point this week. It’s Chapter Five, where I always have trouble in a first draft (come to think of it, Never Kiss a Stranger also stalled out at Chapter Five), but the good thing to come out of Hurricane Francine is now I remember how it goes and how it feels and how it sounds to ride out a hurricane. I know this is where Venus and Blaine turn this into an actual crime story–the dead body in front of their place the boys find in Chapter One–and it’s going to be really fun figuring out the rest of this book, I think. But I think I have an excellent grasp of what this chapter needs to be to move the story forward, plus it’s more of an intellectual puzzle of sorts because they can’t really go out and do any investigating because of the storm conditions. It’s so nice to feel excited about writing again, Constant Reader, you have no idea.

The story of Springfield, Ohio, and its perfectly ordinary Haitian immigrant population, working hard and building a better life for themselves and their families in this country with the opportunities here, despite the deeply imbedded racism and xenophobia they’ve surely encountered since being recruited to immigrate to Springfield to keep the town from dying. Now that the right’s candidates have decided to target that small town with blood libel and slander and racism, the town’s public schools, city hall, and hospitals have all been receiving bomb threats, because the Right has embraced stochastic terrorism for years now. There’s nothing American or patriotic about any of this, and the Right thinks it’s funny and laugh about it, particularly their Queen of Sewage, Chaya Raichik, who should be in a women’s penitentiary trying to explain how she’s not a racist to the brown women in there. Imagine being a “brand” and making money on being a stochastic terrorist, and celebrated for it. I’d actually like to see an IRS audit of Moms for Liberty and their bitch goddess to see where their money is coming from. We really don’t utilize the IRS nearly enough when it comes to lawbreaking cults and psychopaths when they are white, which is completely despicable, but part of those horrific baked-in values of racism in American society, carefully developed and nurtured over four hundred years. When I first saw they were targeting Haitian immigrants, I had two thoughts: 1. I was surprised the old blood libel about Haitians and HIV/AIDS weren’t dug up (it took just another day and 2. since it was pets, I was a little surprised it wasn’t the blood libel of Haitian satanism/voodoo’, i.e “they’re stealing our pets for ritual sacrifice!” Thanks, by the way, to perennial presidential candidate and new age lunatic Marianne Williamson, for making that connection for everyone. She’s fucking trash, and someone else Oprah owes us all an apology for platforming. She actually has quite a track record for charlatans and frauds, doesn’t she?

And on that note I am going to get another cup of coffee and perhaps some coffee cake for breakfast before I head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later, one never can be sure.

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