Tag: fiction

Don’t Let Him Go

Here we are on a chilly Tuesday morning (I love our autumn here), and the week is progressing nicely. We weren’t terribly busy in the office, so I was able to get a lot of admin paperwork taken care of, which was very nice, and I am getting geared up for this weekend. I should probably check when my panels are, shouldn’t I?

Fascism is on the run all over the planet–first Hungary, now Brazil and Serbia, and may we as Americans take their lead this time. (It’s wild to think how different of a world we would have now if this administration was in power when Germany invaded Poland in 1939) I’m not getting my hopes up for a blue wave, frankly; I’ve been fooled by polls before, and I’ve learned a hard, if horrible, lesson.

Apparently Harrison Butker can’t even do the one thing he’s good at. It’s almost like God don’t like ugly, you know? The right-wing curse, aka Everything Trump Touches Dies, does seem like a thing, doesn’t it? People seem to forget–Americans aren’t known for their memories–his first term, which, although horrible, seems almost tame in retrospect. (I like to remind people that Baron Harkonnen went to the LSU-Alabama game in 2019; the Tide lost at home for the first time since 2015.) Americans aren’t the good people we fooled ourselves into believing we are; we are the worst people, seriously, collectively. We are extremely self-righteous about our freedom and moral sanctimony, too. No wonder the rest of the world finds us unbearable so much of the time–and we’ve certainly lost what little decent reputation we had in the world. Are we great again yet?

And yet another Democrat running for the Senate in Iowa, one Josh Turek, decided that a week before the election was an excellent opportunity to out himself as a transphobe and a homophobe (they go together hand in glove, sorry not sorry). Was it necessary for him to do so, after Annie Andrews showed what she was made of a few weeks earlier? It’s an easy step from “insurance, including Medicare and Medicaid, shouldn’t cover trans people–make no mistake, that was what he really said–to “fuck marriage equality.” It’s amazing to me how so many people miss the boat with this stuff; has no one actually read and understood the fucking poem “First They Came For”? Saying anything to get elected –which is what his supporters are saying Oh he just had to say that–did he? How many votes did he gain from his anti-trans ad (which I will make sure follows him–and Andrews, too–for as long as I am alive, at the very least) and how many queer people might stay home in Iowa now? They are so quick to slice off a significant part of the base for any reason whatsoever–and then will wonder why there’s no enthusiasm for their campaigns? How can we trust him not to be another Manchin, Sinema, or Fetterman? We can’t.

Health care for all, bitch, includes trans people. Fuck him and the wheelchair he rode in on. Yes, I said it, and I will say it fucking again. A bigot in a wheelchair is still a bigot, right, Madison Cawthorne? Greg Abbott? Need I go on?

I for one am sick to death of having my community’s vote taken for granted by politicians who will gleefully flush us down the toilet for a couple of bigot votes. This has never been a winning Democratic strategy, because who else will you flush for expediency? At least he showed us all who he is, so we can look forward to him, if elected, blocking progressive legislation. Is another Fetterman 2.0 a winning strategy? My years of loyalty and support for\the Party–I’m registered as a Democrat so I can vote in Louisiana primaries, but I am not a centrist and I am tired of timidity and “change is very slow”–are dwindling with every latest betrayal. Seriously, do I honestly believe Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries aren’t going to bend over and lube up their asses for the administration? If they were good at their jobs 2024 would have had a different outcome, and yes, I do believe that. They are both hacks and owned body and soul by their donors. They aren’t going to push back on anything; they may send a few strongly worded emails…what have they done for the last two years? And don’t give me that “they don’t have any power!” when Republicans, when in the minority, have gummed up everything. Obama has a pretty good record, sure–he wasn’t the greatest at everything–but what about the Democratic congressional record of the last twenty years? We haven’t had a liberal lion who could get shit done since Ted Kennedy died.

If there is a Blue Wave, watch people like Durek derail any and every thing progressive that comes over his desk, and then watch the base get dispirited, disappointed, and stay home in 2028. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Heavy sigh.

But state of the world aside, I had a very lovely day yesterday. I did some more writing and editing last night around being a Sparky bed, and worked on the current essays in progress–The Amityville Horror and Mazywood, which I need to finish reading–which was fun. I do enjoy writing, and hope to dip back into the book tonight. I am loving this cooler weather, which is my sweet spot–and my favorite time of year in New Orleans. I am also doing some research and planning of the next Scotty, which I am kind of itching to get back to.

And on that particular note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Till then!

Karnak Temple at night

Out of Season

Another Monday morning and it’s about time for me to head into the spice mines. I had a very restful and slightly less productive weekend than I would have liked, but isn’t that always the case? I feel good this morning and like it’s going to be a good week, with all kinds of things going on. Friends are coming into town this weekend, I have the Louisiana Book Festival this weekend, and we get an extra hour of sleep on Sunday morning for the last time, thank God. LSU has a bye week, but there are good games Saturday that I’m going to miss, alas. I have to get better organized, and that sounds like a very good plan for this week.

I read more of Mazywood yesterday and it really is most wonderful. Tananarive Due is a Queen, y’all, and you should be reading her–and other diverse writers, too–because one, she’s a fucking incredible writer, and two, we white people need to read more diversely in our choices. I know white people whine about reading outside their own experience, but don’t you want to grow as a person, understand the world a little better, all while having an incredibly enjoyable reading experience? And Mazywood is, above all else, an excellent read, with social commentary woven into the story….one I’m glad Due decided to take on.

It wasn’t a bad day yesterday, even if the Saints lost in Paris yesterday morning. It’s taken me a while to get used to the Saints losing all the time again–the Brees years did spoil us all, and the Saints’ return to previous form took a while to get used to once more. I always suspected the success was a temporary aberration in Saints history, but we have a Super Bowl win, which is more than some teams can say. I ordered groceries to be delivered, and after reading, I actually did some writing and editing, getting back on that horse and it wasn’t terrible. The chapter I need to redo didn’t really require much editorial revision, but I need to read it through again to make sure it flows properly–and I am also ready to move into the next chapter as well, which is progress. I have chores to do tonight that I blew off yesterday, and then I can settle in for the evening. We got caught up on AHS: 13, which is now completely off the rails and makes no sense…because the overarching connected universe of AHS doesn’t make sense either. What can I say? Expecting cohesion and clarity from a Ryan Murphy show is a fool’s game. We also started watching Below on Netflix with Josh Hartnett, who has aged like a fine Dom Perignon. It’s interesting, to say the least, and I am intrigued to get back to it.

Over the weekend, social media reminded me of an under-appreciated gem of a horror series that Paul and I both loved–Penny Dreadful, which was exceptional. Paul and I loved it, and maybe for Halloween Horror Month next year maybe I will revisit the show. Thinking about horror series always makes me think of one of my favorites, Friday the 13th–The Series, which was low-budget but a lot of fun with a great concept I’ve always wanted to borrow. I’ve been trying to find it on streaming for an eternity, and while it’s always been hard to find and never in its entirety, I came across a Hulu channel called Comet that shows two episodes every Sunday at eleven and twelve, so I’ve started recording them for a rewatch project; I also have a fan-written book about the show called Curious Goods that I’ve always wanted to get around to, and should have taken on this month. I forget there’s always horror nonfiction! Bad Greg, bad Greg. After all, Stephen King’s Danse Macabre was the first nonfiction book I read studying a genre in an accessible style.

And on that note, best head into the spice mines before I’m late–which would be a bad augur for the week. Have a great Monday, Constant Reader, and I will be back on the morrow.

Taste the rainbow…

Let’s Go

I like the nightlife baby!

Sorry, had a The Cars moment. Their music, by the way, still holds up.

So it’s Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, LSU is playing Auburn at eleven, and most likely will have some things delivered. I’ll probably do chores while the games play; after that I’ll do stuff while switching between Texas A&M-Alabama and Tennessee-South Carolina. This evening, I’ll hate Mississippi even more for making me root for Texas again this season. (Don’t worry, friends who are UT fans, with all the SEC weirdness going on these days I will definitely be rooting for the Longhorns again, more than once, before the season ends. Realignment has changed things for sure; more on that at another time–I know most of y’all couldn’t give less of a fuck about college football, and I appreciate your not minding and bearing with me on it.) I feel good and rested this morning, and once this is posted, I’ll move to my easy chair where I’ll read before the games. I also want to get some of my newsletters worked on, another one sent out, and I definitely want to finish Mazywood, which is superb. I also need to do some research, work on a short story or two, and edit the book so I can move on to writing the next chapter. Bouchercon is going on right now, but I have no FOMO–I’m getting used to not attending things, and I really don’t miss it. Don’t get me wrong, most of my conference experiences in the crime fiction world have been pleasant, at least for the last twelve years or so, at any rate.

Yesterday was a good, if weird, day. I was a bit off yesterday for some reason I can’t quite understand; I took the wrong exit off the interstate for Costco, for one, and construction on the way back meant a detour to the Earhart which…actually wasn’t a bad way to come home from Costco. We spent over four hundred dollars, but didn’t seem to get all that much, either. I forgot to turn the dishwasher on before bed. I forgot about finishing the bed linens , so wasn’t able to go to bed until that was all done–can’t go to bed without sheets on it, can I? We finished The Diplomat last night, which is excellent, and then AHS:13, which is a hot mess but kind of fun; I actually enjoyed last night’s episode–about Madison’s falling in love with Satan’s son–but none of it makes any real sense; it’s like they threw in everything including the kitchen sink. We also watched this week’s Traitors (spoiler: they murdered one of the hot boys, so no more shower shots of him lathering his glistening wet muscles), which was very fun. I did run my errands yesterday morning, so I don’t have any to do today–I have to order things to be delivered, but that’s not a big deal–and I’ll probably run one tomorrow morning, which is fine.

I am loving this chillier weather; it was nice not getting drenched with sweat and overheating yesterday on the Costco trip, which is probably why I was finding it so exhausting to go. I love that I am feeling better and better with every passing day; sixty-five isn’t that bad. I thought how bad i felt was going to be the new normal (“you’re just getting older”–fuck you, quack doctor, if it were up to you I’d be dead now, you miserable homophobic prick), but now that I am healthier and recovering more all the time, this sixties thing isn’t so terrible. I like the lack of fucks I have now, and I am very glad that treating my anxiety has released me from the horrors of everyone has to like me I can’t have anyone dislike me and now? I couldn’t care less if people like me or not. I have very dear friends that I cherish, and I know a lot of people whose company I enjoy being in–but my default is always going to be solitude (Paul doesn’t count) and while I do marvel at how different my life could have been had I gotten it treated before, I don’t want any do-overs or anything. It is amazing how much my anxiety drove me to bad behavior on occasion, but at least now I understand it. Doesn’t excuse me behaving in a manner of which I am not proud, but it’s nice to know why. That dichotomy of not caring whether I am “popular” while having deep-rooted anxiety about not being liked created some intense cognitive dissonance–and I am hoping that isn’t going to be an issue anymore.

And on that note, I am going to get some cereal and another cup of coffee and head into ye olde Mines d’Spice. Have a happy Saturday, and above all else, GEAUX TIGERS!

Candy-O

And work-at-home Friday has rolled around again, somehow. I slept later this morning, and do feel a bit wrung-out, but not bad; I suspect my morning shower will take care of that completely. I slept very well–I am loving this cooler weather; I even wore long sleeves last night to dinner at Le Petite Grocery (which was superb on every level; the food and the conversation with my friend, whom I adore). I am in a pretty good mood this morning, and I also don’t have any meetings this morning, either.I have some paperwork to work on, and we’re going to Costco later. I also have some errands to run, which I may do this morning to get out of the way. LSU plays at eleven tomorrow, so I won’t have a lot of time to do much tomorrow morning…I’ll figure it all out later; right now I just want to swill coffee and finish this.

The apartment is also a mess, and I have to do the bed linens and the dishes (again), and it would be nice to get my inbox emptied today. But we’ll see how the day goes. I also have to finish watching this week’s Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which I had started after work yesterday but had to turn off to go have dinner. The coffee is starting to clear my cobwebs, which is always a most excellent thing. I need to write, and I need to make a to-do list for this weekend so I don’t get off track and/or get easily distracted by a Youtube wormhole or something…which is ridiculously easy to do. Thanks, ADHD!

Apparently three escorts have come public with allegations that Lindsay Graham was a client, and I am not exactly sure why this is news? It would have been news had it broken while he was alive and actively doing damage not only to the queer community but to the country overall as well. He’s dead now, and being gay isn’t a crime…I am also unsure if it’s a crime to pay for sex. I know it’s a crime to get paid for sex, which is horribly wrong; the sex worker wouldn’t be doing sex work if not for the people willing to pay them. (I also don’t believe sex work, regardless of who’s the client and who’s the worker, should be a crime; more of that Puritan ethos in our society, and it’s about the patriarchy, as so many things are. The presumption is that only men will pay for sex and only from women; so of course the man is the victim and the woman the criminal.) Graham was dogged by these rumors his entire life, and I am not a proponent of bullying someone for being gay because some people think he might be gay. He clearly hated himself, and I cannot imagine how hellish his life must have been. If he hadn’t worked so hard against us, I might even be capable of some empathy for his fucked-up psyche. But money and power and acceptance by his peers was more important, and I am glad I chose not to live miserably. If anything, Graham is just another victim of homophobia in the end, even if it was entirely self-inflicted.

And seriously, who the fuck cares at this point? I also remain grateful that I didn’t end up like him, which was always a possibility until I turned thirty.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Enjoy your Friday, Constant Reader and I’ll be back in the morning before the game. Till then!

Shoo Be Doo

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

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

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

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

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

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

Double Life

Here we are and Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has somehow rolled back around again. How is that even possible? Madness, am I right? I’m getting more tired the deeper into the week we get, but I’m sleeping well and deeply, so hopefully I can make it to work-at-home Friday safely and easily. I’m also enjoying this colder (for us) weather. Fall and spring are my favorite, albeit the briefest, seasons in New Orleans. I really don’t mind the winter that much, either, here. I just don’t like snow, ice and frigid wind that cuts right to the bone. But it’s nice not sweating to death in the car before the a/c starts blowing cold, or from just walking a bag of garbage to the bins through hot soupy air.

Yesterday wasn’t bad. I got things done at the office, then came home to do some chores and write something due tonight at the latest, and there are definitely some emails I need to get to today. I am going to head uptown to get the mail after work and make some groceries–nothing major, but we need a few things–and I did get caught up on my Real Housewives shows once I was home from the office last night. I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home, and Sparky needed his bonding time once I walked in the door. When Paul got home, we watched another episode of The Diplomat, which may be my favorite current show–it’s very smart and the cast is exceptional, and Keri Russell, Alison Janney, and Jodie Whittaker are killing it.

This entire Jalen Hurts situation is so insane to me; how was that medical advice possibly considered legitimate and not insane by anyone with a brain? Has everyone forgotten that the same thing almost killed Serena Williams twice? I don’t really follow the NFL, but I remember Jalen Hurts from his years in college football. Sure, I hated it when LSU had to play him, but that was because he was so good, and he seemed like someone not driven by ego, evidenced by his not leaving Alabama after being benched until his final year of eligibility, when he transferred to Oklahoma–and Alabama’s fans were cool with it, which is unheard of for that fan base. So, clearly a good guy. He’s also ridiculously good looking, and I love that his entire team is Black women. I suspect the lawsuit from this horrific medical incompetence could potentially bankrupt the Eagles–and it should. New Orleans would have never in a million years pulled this kind of shit on Drew Brees back in the day.

But then again, Drew is a white man, just saying.

I do feel pretty good this morning, honestly. I should be able to get my next newsletter out either today or tomorrow, and should have no problem getting another out over the weekend. Doing my Halloween Horror Month and writing newsletters about horror media that I am visiting (or revisiting) makes them much easier to produce, but don’t worry–we’ll be back to Greg’s Observations again soon enough. I also know I can’t be the only one who is ready for this election cycle to be fucking over. The recent GOP smear ads have been particularly disgusting–the one about Amy Acton in Ohio is completely disqualifying for Vivek Ramaswamy, whom calling a bottom-feeder is a compliment. The ones in Texas–which we sometimes get to see, hurray–are especially egregious and evil. How people can view this horrific lies and vote for the people putting them out is beyond me–but then, the last ten years have been an eye-opening experience, and sorry not sorry; that genie isn’t going back into the bottle. Y’all showed the world who you really are, and no amount of tears and FAFO is ever going to make me change my mind about what pieces of shit you are.

The “people going no contact with MAGA” has definitely become a broader, bigger issue, and it’s getting coverage…but always from the perspective of the people being cut off, and the fact they are mystified that this happened to them tells me everything I need to know about what kind of people they are. I read one piece yesterday from a mother whose son disinvited her and her husband from his wedding, and doesn’t really speak to them anymore because…well, she just doesn’t know why, and how could her son do this to her? The entire piece was the greatest example of why her son wants nothing to do with her anymore that I could possibly think up; and did she really think writing and publishing an article about how cruel her son is being to her for no reason? Just her publishing the piece would ensure she would never see me or my children again, which shows she’s probably done and said some pretty horrific things because she’s his mother, damn it, and he is SUPPOSED to love her no matter what.

The fact that she isn’t leading with “I wish he would tell me what led to this so I could make it right”? I am #teamson all the way. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

Maybe some self-reflection, ma’am?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I shall return in the morning!

This would make a terrific book cover image! I love how spooky the bayous in the wetlands can look. Robert Miller does excellent nature photography of Louisiana. Support his work at https://www.rmpgallery.com/

Every One’s a Winner

Congratulations one and all!!!

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

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

Macavity Winners 2026 (for works published in 2025)

Best Mystery Novel

*Crooks by Lou Berney (William Morrow)

Also nominated:

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

Clown Town by Mick Herron (Soho Crime)

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

The White Crow by Michael Robotham (Scribner)

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

Best First Mystery

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

Also nominated:

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

Dead Money by Jakob Kerr (Bantam Books)

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

Stillwater by Tanya Scott (Grove Atlantic)

Best Mystery Nonfiction

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

Also nominated:

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

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

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

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

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

Best Mystery Short Story

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

Also nominated:

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

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

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

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

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

Sue Feder Memorial Historical Mystery

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

Also nominated:

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

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

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

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

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

Moving in Stereo

Sunday night and I am in my hotel in Alabama, having arrived less than half an hour ago and getting checked in, bringing things in for the night, and settling into my sweats and house slippers. My room is very cold–so hopefully I’ll sleep well tonight. Tomorrow is the cemetery for Mom’s birthday (would have been 84), and after that we’ll head up to Kentucky, which is about seven hours or so from here (when I drive from New Orleans up there directly, halfway is about a little past Birmingham). The big driving day will be Friday, when I drive back to New Orleans (and will get caught in Chattanooga, huzzah!). But I’m glad I am doing this trip, the drive up was most pleasant, and I stopped at Jack’s in Ellisville, Mississippi, which is now my sweet spot. I also waited to get gas until Tuscaloosa, so I have an almost completely full tank for tomorrow. I am really enjoying listening to Shadowland, but am confused by a few things so I need to check the book itself. (Moments later.) Okay, I was right, and I also know why I was confused. No worries! My mind does wander sometimes in the car when I’m listening–something in the narrative may strike my imagination and send it winging off for a few moments, and I miss things. I also shouldn’t start listening until I am on 59 N and through New Orleans and over the lake and through Slidell and the area where 10, 12 and 59 all come together–one of the many messy highway convergences in southeastern Louisiana (there are some horrific ones in Baton Rouge, too), because there’s too much traffic and so I need to pay more attention to that than listening.

Okay, it’s Saturday morning and obviously, I didn’t post while I was away–nor did I finish the post I’d started the night I arrived in Alabama. Monday we visited Mom, and then I drove up to Kentucky behind Dad’s truck. The drive up was pleasant, the visit was lovely–made even lovelier by me unplugging completely from everything–and I drove home yesterday. I finished reading Shadowland (loved it) and am loving Mazywood. I-75S was a parking lot between Chattanooga and Knoxville, which added about another hour or so to the drive. I listened to Riley Sager’s The Only One Left on the drive home, and it was about sixty degrees when I finally got home and unloaded the car and unpacked. I slept well during the trip, but oh, did my own bed feel fantastic when I finally went to bed last night. (I also missed Sparky a lot, and he’s been glued to me since I walked in the door.) It’s in the 50’s this morning, and I have a couple of errands to run this morning before LSU’s 11 am start time this morning for the Mississippi State game. In Kentucky, I watched Beat the Devil and Gaslight–the Gothic tradition was very strong in that movie (more on that later)–which was kind of fun, and I am behind on everything I am watching–reality shows in particular, which should be fun to get caught up on as the weekend progresses.

Gaslight is an excellent movie, and where the term “gaslighting” comes from; if you’re unfamiliar with the film, it’s not a spoiler (plus, movie is from 1944) to say the story is about a young woman whose husband is toying with her mind, making her believe she is losing her mind. It’s brilliantly conceived, and if to modern eyes it might seem a bit old-fashioned (why doesn’t she stand up for herself?) but women had so little power or control of their lives once they were married…I’ve always felt that Gothic suspense is, for want of a more accurate term, is “women’s noir”–domestic suspense also falls sometimes under that umbrella–because, while they may not be about amoral women trying to get what they want through criminal activity, they are about women’s fears, and I am sure someone has made the connection between the popularity of that style of film/book in the mid to late 20th century because women were so powerless, and its decline after the rise of feminism. I’ve always loved Gothics–which is why I have such affinity for both crime and horror’s Gothic sub-genres–and Gaslight encapsulates those fears so perfectly–and Ingrid Bergman deserved the Oscar she won for it; she also was at the peak of her beauty at the same time, and is just so stunning on screen that you can’t take your eyes off of her–and she had such beautiful skin!

Sigh. So much to get done! So, I should probably head into the spice mines this morning. If I owe you an email, apologies–I’ll hopefully get to them over the next few days–and cleaning and errands and…sighs again. Anyway, enjoy your day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again tomorrow morning. Till then!

This is Orleans Parish Criminal Court, on Tulane Avenue. The square white building behind on the right is Orleans Parish Prison (OPP).

My Best Friend’s Girl

Saturday morning and I should be waking up in a motel in Alabama instead of sitting at my desk in the Lost Apartment, yet here we are, you know? It’s gray out there this morning, but the sun is behind a few clouds. I just thought it more prudent not to drive up there until this is all over, and I don’t have to worry about flash flooding along 59N. I cannot imagine much worse than being stranded by weather in rural Mississippi, you know? Last night was the best night of sleep I had all week for some reason that I am not questioning but really am embracing. I do have some errands to do this morning, and I need to do some cleaning and get started on packing, too. There are games all day today on television, but looking at the schedule–I thought Georgia-Alabama was a night game, but according to the schedule I just consulted it’s the afternoon game. The morning game is A&M at Missouri, so…I can run errands this morning and have some things delivered. I was lethargic yesterday; I had the day off after my benefits meeting so I could drive north after, but the weather was too iffy and I really didn’t like that flash flood watch on 59N. I did manage to get the laundry done, though, and I did work on some other chores, but the kitchen and living room are still a mess, but that will give me something to occupy my time during games and half-time and so forth.

Oh, and GEAUX TIGERS! LSU plays at Kentucky tonight, and it should be a good game. Oh, the Texas-Oklahoma game is this afternoon, too. Like I said, lots of good games today.

We finished Neagley last night, which we both loved and hope there’s going to be another season on to infinity, it’s really that good. We got caught up on AHS:13, which has lost the plot but, you know, Jessica Lange and Angela Bassett, both of whom elevate their material. We also watched this week’s Traitors, which was fun and ended on an amazing cliff-hanger (as they always do; we won’t know who was murdered until next week), and finished Lanterns, which was also superb and probably the best DC television series–probably ever. Kyle Chandler and the entire cast is fantastic, but Aaron Pierre embodies John Stewart as well as Alan Ritchson does Reacher. Green Lantern was never one of my favorites (though I loved his team-up comic with Green Arrow, aptly titled Green Arrow/Green Lantern), but I did appreciate him–and I missed the time in the comics when Hal Jordan handed off to John Stewart and Guy Gardner, so was never sure how that played out or how we wound up with two of them–but I know John Stewart was around pre-Crisis, so yes, I missed that story.

If you’re also wondering how strong this Isaias storm is, they’ve closed Waffle Houses all over the panhandle and around Mobile, so yes, terrifying. And yes, the cost of gas is about to go up again, if it hasn’t already; storm in the gulf means jump in gas prices. Always.

Heavy sigh.

I do feel good this morning, and better about things in general. Yesterday, I was subjected to the ever-popular “shut up faggot and vote blue no matter who if you know what’s good for you” because I had the temerity to call out Democratic candidates who throw the queer community under the bus to pander to homophobic voters….who will never vote for your ass in the first place…and then not five minutes after the latest Democratic betrayal to have the nerve to send me an email asking for money “because we need to flip” Congress. Silly me, my thought was “you released a homophobic ad and you’re asking ME for money now? Go fuck yourself with a razor blade studded dildo, bitch; ask your TERF voters for money.” Oh, but queer people have to just suck it up and donate and vote blue no matter who but all you fucks who couldn’t bring yourselves for the Black woman because reasons but think we just have to eat a shit sandwich and hope she’s not one of them once elected? Bitch fucking please. How many times already have we seen this play out? Sinema, Fetterman, etc. Well, I don’t live in her state, just as I don’t live in the states where other so-called “progressive Democrats” have already walked back unflinching support; so, not a national candidate. Ask the homophobic voters you’re courting for money, because you’re not getting any of mine. Funny how candidates that are allies always have some other thing that doesn’t pass the “purity tests,” but homophobia is just fucking fine with these same people. Fuck them, fuck you, and if you can get elected, great–but don’t come fucking crying to me when your savior (remember Graham Platner? His homophobia wasn’t enough to derail with progressives, and they fought for him to the death despite all of his baggage…which inevitably blew up his campaign) turns out to be a narcissistic corrupt piece of shit.

And political influencers? They’re in this for clicks, likes, and subscriptions. I don’t trust any of them, and don’t much care for most.

Homophobes, or people who pander to them, are never progressives. You cannot be a progressive if you’re homophobic, racist, or misogynist or some combination of those. And if you think those are progressive values, enjoy Hell when you get there, because you’re a piece of utter shit.

Oh, don’t worry–ultimately, I am not going to be stupid and not vote, or vote Republican. Jamie Davis has a shot at breaking the MAGA stranglehold on Louisiana, and I am not sitting that out by any means. Do I know how Davis feels about queer equality and our community? No, I don’t–but I know I am voting for him anyway, just as I hope people will vote blue no matter who in other states. But I am already preparing myself for the inevitable settling of these progressive candidates into corporate moderates, like they always do, getting money under the table to sell out their constituents and supporters. But I realized that, yet again, I am voting for harm reduction.

Just one more time I’d like to vote for someone I can believe in, you know? I’m sick of voting for the lesser of two evils…and it’s not like the DNC gives two shits about us in Louisiana–where’s the money from the DNC for Jamie Davis and Angie Nixon? Schumer and Jeffries–both of whom need to be removed from leadership–are going to hobble anything if they have a majority these next two years, which is just long enough for them to write strongly worded emails and social media posts and nothing else so the country turns on them again just in time to vote MAGA back into power again in 2028. I haven’t given money to the DNC in years, because the milquetoast approach they’ve taken over the last twenty years has been an utter failure; I just give directly to candidates now.

I also think there’s way too much money in elections now. It’s become an industry. How is that good for we, the people? It’s not, actually.

And on that note, I am off to the spice mines for today. I need to figure out a plan for today, but first I’m going to check in on the news, see what’s happening with the storm, and have some breakfast. I will see you tomorrow morning before I drive north, Constant Reader. Have a great day!

Got a Lot On My Head

Wednesday morning Pay the Bills Day has somehow moved back up onto my calendar and somehow is today again. Seriously? When did this happen? My word, the way time flies. Anyway, yesterday was a pretty good day at work, overall. I got a lot done–with more to do before I leave Friday–and felt pretty good about the day. I was tired after work and was able to go straight home (errands tonight), and was too tired to do much of anything except sit in my chair with Sparky and watch the season finale of Real Housewives: Ultimate Girls’ Trip, and then two more episodes of Neagley before I went up to bed. I woke up several times during the night, but I feel rested–at least for now, at any rate–and tonight I need to start getting ready for the drive on Friday, which I am looking forward to. Peter Straub’s Shadowlands will make an excellent travel companion, methinks.

Well the system that sprang up in the Bay of Campeche started moving north, but the cone of uncertainty this morning has shifted more east, so landfall is moving away from New Orleans, which is a good thing. There will be rain and high winds and flooding from Isaias (named as a storm overnight) and it’s not going to be ashore until around one a.m. in the morning Saturday. I’ll beat the storm driving north, but it will impact us in Alabama and the cone extends all the way to Kentucky, but hopefully all will well and past when we head north on Monday. I was also a little concerned about leaving Paul and Sparky with a storm coming, but with the eastward shift I feel a little more relief.

I’ve seen a lot of chatter on-line since Monday night about how the “Saints let the city down.” First of all, fuck you, and second of all, winning this game wasn’t nearly as important as it was in 2006. It was twenty years ago. The average age of Saints players is 26, so they would have been pretty damned young when that game was played and a year younger when Katrina hit. Unless they experienced Katrina themselves, they probably have very little memory of it, or how important the 2006 Dome-coming game was to everyone in New Orleans; a city still mostly in ruins, and how wonderful it felt to have the Saints playing at home, and then winning in an incredibly exciting game? I remember Paul and I watching at home, screaming and yelling and jumping up and down–I’ll never, ever, forget Steve Gleason’s blocked punt–and how it gave us something besides misery and rebuilding to think about, and how proud and happy everyone was before, during and after. I wondered about it before hand; would the expectations be too heavy on the players? And the day did not have the same feel to it as it did twenty years ago. I noticed it at the start of the game, and owrried that maybe it was drilled into their heads how much this mattered, and they freaked out because of that combined lack of understanding and the pressure to not let us down.

So, yes, it was disappointing–and it’s always disappointing to lose to the dirty birds–but it wasn’t the end of the world and guess what? We’re all still here, aren’t we?

As for the MAGA trash in Nebraska? The next time I see any fucking farmer whining about getting exactly what the fuck they voted for, I am going to post that clip in response with the caption “This isn’t as funny to me as you losing your generational farms, assholes.” I say let it go back to prairie; the buffalo can repopulate it. And don’t come for me about blue dots in a red state–I am a blue dot in a red state. And if that was a Louisiana crowd, we’d deserve every bit of hate we’d get as a state.

And for the record, we are watching in real time as billionaires develop Skynet, because they think somehow it won’t affect them…you know, like farmers in fucking Nebraska. Miss me forever with that bullshit “real America” shit. Maybe real losers’ America, but never real America.

For the record, you inbred imbeciles, San Diego is the primary base for the Pacific Fleet, and there’s also a Marine training camp there. WAY TO SUPPORT THE TROOPS, you piece of shit traitors. Now do the two ports.

It’s the fucking death cult Sarah Palin told us about in 2010, but she said it was the Affordable Care Act that would set up death panels, the lying skank. Why doesn’t she ever get asked about that? Her party is the anti-science, anti-abortion, anti-intelligence, anti-health insurance, anti-vax party, not the Democrats (the corporate ones can lick my asshole clean the next time I have Taco Bell)–I have spent my entire life listening to the stupidest lies told from the right; they love nothing more than to bear false witness against thine neighbors…while warning us that we’re going to hell. “See you there!” is the proper response to that garbage.

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

Sexy Robert Kelker-Kelly, who I crushed on during his days as Sam on Another World. You can see why. Sadly, he passed away this past weekend.