Tag: Ghislaine Maxwell

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

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

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

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

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

Huzzah!

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

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

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

Carol

I have to go to the West Bank this morning to buy two new tires for the car. An active pothole destroyed my driver’s side front tire the other day, and so I need to get at least one new tire, probably two so their wear pattern will match. The tires are supposed to be good for 50k miles; I don’t even have 30k on my car yet, which makes this even more frustrating. Perhaps this is my punishment for writing about potholes the other day on the Wickeds blog, with “The Orange Cone”? I may have angered the pothole gods, and they must be appeased to the tune of several hundred dollars.

Ah, well, there’s nothing to do but go whip out a credit card and pay for new tires. At least I can take Wanda Morris’ Anywhere You Run with me to read while I wait for the tires to be mounted and put on the car.

I was very tired yesterday when I got home from work. I didn’t sleep well Monday night (did better last night, frankly) and so was already tired going into the day. I was monitoring my blog post at Mystery Lovers’ Kitchen so I could reply to everyone’s comments, and they were keeping me occupied between clients and the end of my shift. When I got home, I had a few hours to make the kitchen presentable before going live with Ellen Byron and Murder by the Book, which was a lot of fun. Paul came home as we were wrapping it up, so we could watch another episode of Victoria’s Secret: Angels and Demons, which moved on to the Epstein/Ghislaine Maxwell connection to Victoria’s Secret, and it seems as though human trafficking and models being pimped out by their agencies might very well have been happening in the industry before Epstein, from the looks of things. B

But the event went really well–it was nice seeing John from the store again, and he said very nice things about my book beforehand, including “After reading it and liking it a lot, I have to ask, why did it take so long for you to write a cozy?” which I thought was the highest compliment I could ever receive. There have been times that I have felt like a carpetbagger in the subgenre; poaching in territory not my own. But one thing I will say about the cozy subgenre–the authors and readers are incredibly kind, supportive and welcoming to new authors entering their territory. It’s been lovely seeing all the support from other cozy writers and readers on social media in the weeks leading up to the book’s release, and it’s also something I’m really not used to, to be honest. I don’t want to make it sound like I haven’t had support from colleagues and readers before–because that wouldn’t be the truth–but this entire experience, from the announcement of the contract to the cover reveal to the release, has been so incredibly lovely and affirming that like John, I wonder why it took me so long to join the ranks of the cozy writers? Ellen and I did agree on camera that my Scotty series was a more of an edgy cozy series that breaks some of the rules (profanity, sex, violence and blood on the page) than anything else; Scotty may be a licensed private eye but no one ever hires him–he just stumbles into bodies and mysteries all the time through no effort of his own.

Christ, I am so behind on my Scotty book. Heavy heaving sigh.

(Even in the midst of self-promotion, I can always feel guilty about the progress of whatever it is I am working on at the moment.)

After I get the tires put on the car and paid for, then it’s off to the office to finish my work day. This week has been a weird one; sick on Monday, flat tire, promotional events, book launch, and now a morning spent at the car dealership. Not exactly how I saw the week going Sunday morning while I was drinking coffee and planning ahead–which is another great example of ‘man plans, the gods laugh”–and now today is even Pay-the-Bills Day and I didn’t really notice because. well, I need to get to the dealership this morning and buy new tires…all the while hoping the spare makes it to the West Bank intact. (It’s supposedly good for fifty miles and I haven’t gotten anywhere close to that kind of mileage since changing the tire.)

But life always has a habit of interfering with your best laid plans, doesn’t it?

And on that note, I am hopping into the shower and heading over to the West Bank. Wish me well, Constant Reader, and that it’s quick and easy to get in and out. Fingers crossed, at any rate.