Tag: Hokuloa Road

I Love the Dead

Sunday, and I woke up to wonderfully inclement weather; thunder and lightning and downpours that were so loud it seemed like it was raining in the bedroom. It rained most of yesterday–it started sprinkling while I was running my errands, so didn’t bother washing the car, and the overnight rain helped me sleep deeply and well, too, which was really nice. I have things to do today that I have to get done, so once I’ve finished this and gotten cleaned up I’m going to dive right into that, but I’m also going to spend some time this morning in my easy chair reading under a blanket. I did finish reading Hokuloa Road, which I enjoyed reading, and probably today will start reading either the Scott Carson Lost Man’s Lane or Adam Cesare’s latest Clown in a Cornfield novel, The Church of Frendo–after I get everything done that I need to get done today.

I did watch some college football games–the less said about LSU’s game last night the better, frankly–and now have kind of have lost interest in the season, in all honesty. I’ll keep watching, like I usually do, but don’t really care about the title race and all that stuff anymore, and other than watching LSU play out the rest of their season, I am most likely not going to be paying much attention to anything else this season. I would imagine Brian Kelly’s job is very much on the line now, and I won’t be sorry to see him go, frankly. I’m not sure who the next person to get the job should be, or will be, for that matter–especially when you consider that the other big-name coaches LSU hired have won titles over the last few years…but not in football.

We also watched this past week’s episode of The Morning Show, which was excellent; it was about identity and losing your soul to corporations while acquiring power–and the things you have to do to maintain that power.

As I said, I really enjoyed Hokuloa Road, and it had a lot to say about our society and culture. It was set during the pandemic on a fictional Hawaiian island (never named), which was interesting–has anyone done a round up on crime fiction set during the pandemic? It seems like it was a million years ago, and was definitely a paradigm shift for the world., especially for those places whose economies were entirely based in tourism. The pandemic devastated the economy in New Orleans, and the city still hasn’t bounced back entirely from the shift of that paradigm. It also had things to say about the extremely wealthy, the homeless, and sex trafficking; Elizabeth Hand got a lot into the novel. She also did an excellent job depicting Hawaii and bringing its stunning beauty to life, and she writes in a dream-like, hypnotic style that reminds me of Shirley Jackson; but different.

Looks like the rain has cleared up and the sun is coming out, so it’s no longer as dark and brooding outside as it was. Still grayish, though, and it may rain off and on all day or it might be beautiful; it’s that marvelous time of year where the weather gets a bit bipolar here.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I’m going to go read a bit while my mind continues to wake up over my morning coffee, and then get to work. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning!

The Great Pyramid at Giza, Egypt

Paint It Black

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, and all is well–at least so far! I got up to feed a needy kitty at six-ish, but went back to bed where Sparky let me sleep a few more hours and even cuddled with me in the bed for a bit. He can be sweet when he wants to be, after all. I was very tired last night before I went to bed–even falling asleep in my chair for good measure–and it was a bit of a full day. After work, we did run our errands, which included a trip to Costco (they had one of my regular items again after not having it for MONTHS, so I was very pleased, which clearly isn’t that hard to do) but it was an overall nice day. I got the dishes put away and got all that laundry done; today I’ve got a couple of errands to run, but other than that I am going to be here all day. I want to finish reading Hokuloa Road (which I am loving) and I need to reread Hurricane Season Hustle so I can write the epilogue and get it turned in once and for all. FINISHED! I’m also probably going to watch games while I read; LSU is the evening game today and while I don’t have high hopes for my Tigers after last week, you never know.

Tomorrow is going to be a writing day, obviously, and I hope to get some newsletters scheduled to go out this week since Halloween Horror Month ends on this coming Friday. Of course, now that I no longer have anxiety, I also know that I don’t have to finish before the end of the month; that’s arbitrary, and I can certainly can continue my examination, and reading and watching, of more horror. I may even take a walk this afternoon, but probably will wait and do it tomorrow, since I have errands (and chores) to do today. A leisurely stroll tomorrow morning before settling into my writing chair for the day may be just the thing for me, and it certainly can’t hurt me in any way (other than fatigued legs and aching hips), and every step is a way forward to being more healthy.

I was also pleased to see what a difference a new battery and two new tires made in how smoothly the car runs now. Buying a Honda was one of the smartest things I may have ever done. It also definitely needs to be cleaned out today and washed–we’re expecting inclement weather tonight and tomorrow (oh, about that walk tomorrow morning, Greg–maybe you’d better take it this morning after all), and I don’t think this is from Hurricane Melissa, but rather from the cold front which is deflecting Melissa and sending her northeast rather than northwest–but that was also last night and I haven’t checked this morning. Yes, Melissa is projected to cross Cuba and head out to sea, brushing past the Bahamas on her way out….and it’s supposed to rain off and on all day today and tomorrow–although the bright sun and clear skies right now beg to differ. It could of course change at any minute and turn on a dime; which has always been one of the joys of living in New Orleans.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Saturday, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning, of course.

Gorgeous Nicholas Alexander Chavez, of Monsters, General Hospital, and Grotesquerie fame.

Unholy

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. Huzzah, I think. I felt good yesterday, and read a lot further into Hokuloa Road, which I am also really enjoying (more on that later). It was, overall, a nice and relaxed day here in the Lost Apartment. Sparky was good cuddle-boy all day, too, for the most part. He still does his best to get me up at six every morning, but much more intensely when he hears the alarm go off. He knows that means I have to get up, and so he is more persistent on those mornings (like this morning). But I feel rested and good, which is always a better way of starting the week rather than feeling tired, which is how last week developed, and that tired feeling lasted through the week and most of the weekend.

I did some chores yesterday and made progress on getting everything organized and filed away, around reading the book. I also made some progress on other things, too, which was very cool. It was nice having a productive weekend for a change, other than one where I am trying to get rested and nothing much gets done. The LSU loss Saturday morning also kind of killed my interest in watching games on Saturday, which helped me get things done. They play at night this Saturday, hosting undefeated Texas A&M, who have never won in Baton Rouge since joining the SEC–they beat Alabama before they beat LSU, in fact–but they are pretty good this year and LSU is not, so…probably be a long night this Saturday.

I also need to revise and update my to-do list this morning at some point. I’m not sure how busy we will be in the clinic today, but when I checked Thursday it wasn’t bad–that obviously could have changed between then and now. We shall see.

It was both weird and nice to spend so much time reading yesterday. I always forget how much I love reading (I have noted, before, many times, how weird it is that I have to force myself to do things that I love), until I really get caught up in a book. I was hoping it would rain yesterday, but alas–it was not to be. That would have been lovely–raining outside, snuggled under a blanket in my easy chair with Sparky and a cup of coffee, all snug while I read. It just doesn’t get better than that, you know? I am planning on reading some more tonight when I get home from the office before doing some chores–Sparky loves to sleep in my lap once I get home for the day–and if I can do that every night, I can make some progress on this out-of-control TBR pile.

As I said, I am enjoying Hokuloa Road. It’s a slow burn, which I like, slowly picking up speed as you go. It’s set on a made-up island in the Hawaiian Island chain (best I can tell; apologies if I am incorrect and the unnamed island actually does exist), which is fun. I love Hawaii, even if I haven’t been back there in thirty years. It was my parents’ absolute favorite place to go in the world; so every year I worked at the airline we’d go. I fell in love with Hawaii myself more every time we went, and the last time we went I broke away and did gay things; went to the gay bars, went to the gay beach every day, and even got laid a couple of times while I was there. It was a lot of fun, and I had always wanted to write about Hawaii–but only did once, in an erotic short story and like Elizabeth Hand, I never named the setting as a Hawaiian beach. (The story was called “The Sea Where It’s Shallow”–one of my all-time favorite titles–and I don’t remember where it was published originally, but I do know it’s in my collection Promises in Every Star.) I worry about exoticizing Hawaii and it’s native people, as a haole. Maybe I should revisit it? I do know that some novels I’ve read set in Hawaii were very much that…

I also started writing a short story this weekend, with the working title “Even Katydids Dream,” and yes, that’s a very obvious Shirley Jackson reference. It was inspired by that call for submissions for one (!) lucky writer to get into that Stephen King The Shining appreciation anthology–and the furor that followed the announcement. I really don’t like when authors call out anthology editors for opportunities they don’t think are “fair.” Fairness has nothing to do with it, for the record, and it’s their anthology; they can make the rules whatever they want them to be. I was criticized by people for the last open call I did for an anthology because they didn’t like my rules–and I replied to every whining email “don’t submit.” (I also tracked them, so I could be certain not to accept a story from someone who established from the very fucking beginning they would be difficult to work with and entitled–and I almost always back the writers, so for me to be critical of writers…yeah.) Nothing is fair in publishing, so get used to it unless you want to be angry all the time.

I’d rather channel that energy into writing, frankly.

The more I thought about the pompous and pretentious complaints I saw over the course of a few days last week, the more I started thinking about writing something in that universe. But what? And then the idea came to me, followed by the title, so I started writing it. I probably won’t submit it to the call–one of the submission rules (the timing) is something I’m not sure I would be able to handle. They are only considering the first five hundred stories, so when the window opens you have to have everything ready to go so you can hit send when the minute turns–and I know myself too well to think I’ll remember to get up early on that day. But I like the story, and I can always strip all that Overlook Hotel stuff out of it and use it somewhere else if I want to. I may not ever finish it. Who knows?

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

Breakdown Dead Ahead

Wednesday and the middle of the week, with the weekend inching ever so much closer with every passing minute. The excitement never stops, does it?

The other day when I was reading I just put some music on Youtube on the television and let it auto-play. At one point when I was putting the book down to write down another bit of really strong writing (furniture being embarrassed) when I realized the song that was playing was “Silver Spring” by Fleetwood Mac, one of my favorite songs of theirs (definitely in the top five, if not the favorite) and while I’ve loved the song since first hearing it and have even seen the exorcism performance live for “The Dance” television concert when it originally aired, I’d never really thought about or analyzed the lyrics in any great detail or in depth–but had always known it was a bitter break-up song, never really grasping just how bitter of a break-up song it is; it’s not about heartache at all; it’s a really resigned, “I tried everything I could but nothing was ever enough” type of song…but on Sunday it hit me right between the eyes: it’s not a fuck you break up song, it’s a “Oh, but no–I said fuck you and I meant it” song.

Those lyrics are chilling, seriously.

Yesterday was another “feeling off” day; primarily because of Monday not being a normal day. We were also busy in the clinic, which I don’t mind–but I was very tired when I was finished with my shift yesterday and it was time to go home. I picked up the mail–I had ordered forever stamps for Christmas cards (feeling ambitious, like I am actually going to buy some, address them, and really send them this year), so those had came, along with my replacement Pyrex glass storage container lids and Elizabeth Hand’s Hokuloa Road (I’m really becoming a big fan) and some stuff for Paul came–but by the time I pulled up in front of the house I was worn down and tired and primed for some Tug lap time. The little guy slept in my lap for most of the night while I watched Youtube documentaries about the Byzantine Empire. I even wound up going to bed earlier than I usually do. I hope today feels a bit more normal; it kind of does already since I woke up this morning. And it’s midweek; and while I was sort of feeling sulky about having to do things in the evenings this weekend, it’ll be fine. This Friday I have no medical things going on–at least not so far–but I do have to run by the office for a benefits meeting, which is kind of important. Our insurance carrier is leaving Louisiana after this year, so they are presenting us with our new options this week…why do I have the sinking feeling that our insurance is about to get a lot worse?

It’s not like things ever really get better on that front, do they?

And now I am getting bills that are due in November. My God, how has this year already flown by so quickly? It’ll be 2024 before we know it…I mean, I am already thinking about Christmas cards, for fuck’s sake, and not letting the time escape before it’s too late to send them. I also kind of need to get them done before my surgery, too–I am going to be one-handed for a while, which is going to majorly suck for a while. I was thinking about this very thing yesterday, to be honest (and that could be why I was so tired and drained when I got home; it’s a lot when you think about it) and started paying attention to what I was using my hands for as I drove home and picked up the mail. The guys at the post office are amazing–they’ll carry stuff out to the car for me if I’m unable; I’ve seen them do it for other infirm people before, but how does one grocery shop? Carry in the groceries? I think I need to buy a wagon or something, an old lady cart or something, to make that easier for myself.

I didn’t start reading Angel’s Infested last night because I was mentally fatigued, but am hopeful that tonight I’ll get home from work and feel not only inspired to do some writing but to do some reading as well. I did read the first few pages, and it drew me right in–Angel Luis Colón is a very good and very underrated writer–but my mind simply couldn’t focus last night very much (hence watching new videos about the Byzantine Empire last night). I just hate feeling scattered, you know? And I feel scattered this week–partly because of the difficult and different days both Friday and Monday were, and trying to settle back into the routine gets harder and harder the older I get, which I am not terribly fond of. Oh, and yesterday wasn’t normal by any means, either–our nurse was out and a new program started yesterday so things were kind of frantic around the office with this weird manic energy that I also don’t like–the sameness of routine at the office is one of its primary saving graces, and when that feels unstable….well, there you go.

It was also cold yesterday–colder, at any rate–and even right now. it’s not even sixty degrees outside. It’s going to be into the eighties later on in the week during the day, but at night it’ll be in the sixties, which is always pleasant.

And on thar note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you again later.