Tag: Jordan Harper

Help Me Make It Thru The Night

Here it is Saturday, so this must be Alabama.

Yesterday was chill. It was raining pretty hard when I got up—it had rained through the night as well—and so I just kind of took my time getting ready and doing chores before it was time to take Sparky to the vet (I always worry he thinks he’s being abandoned again, which makes me terribly sad), ran some errands—which included picking up my copy of the new Jordan Harper, A Violent Masterpiece, which I am excited about reading—before heading out on the highway looking for adventure. It started raining again once I got on I-10 East, and this downpour continued with very low visibility, until I got past Hattiesburg on 59. It continued raining on me the entire way—sprinkling and light fog once I crossed the state line into Alabama, and the mapping app took me on a tour of rural Alabama shortly after crossing the state line. But it was snug and cozy in the car for me while the rain battered the car and I prudently put on my hazard lights to make me more visible to cars coming up behind me. It took about six hours, total, which is what it usually does, honestly, so I clearly didn’t lose any time to the rain. I felt pretty certain that it had slowed me down, but clearly it didn’t. Go figure.

I also was greatly enjoying listening to Alafair Burke’s superb The Note, which is simply brilliant in its premise and structured beautifully, as are all of Alafair’s forays into fiction. I’ve been reading her work for a very long time now—it really is startling how quickly time slipped through my fingers—and I am absolutely loving this one. I’ll finish it on the way south on Monday when we car pool down to the panhandle.

Well, now it’s evening and I’m feeling exhausted. Obviously, I didn’t finish this and post it; I got caught up in the swing of the day and there wasn‘t an opportunity until now, as I am preparing my weary body to head to bed for the night. I had an odd night’s sleep; I tossed and turned and never felt really asleep last night. I woke up at four, but went back to sleep, going into a very deep sleep for a few hours and sleeping later than I had intended. So, I got off on the wrong foot this morning, and kind of felt behind, or off-kilter, all day. We spent most of the day driving around from cemetery to cemetery, removing faded or weather worn plastic flowers from tombstones and side vases and replacing them with new ones (I kind of think of these little trips as Family Cemetery Tours, which is macabre but also a bit funny). I kind of like going to the cemeteries, to be honest. There’s so much history in a cemetery, and there’s a story behind every tombstone—oh, this man shot his wife and then himself, they had five teenaged sons; or why is the mother and son buried together, but no husband/father or wife; or—you get the idea. Some of these cemeteries are as old as the county, with Civil War veterans and a few Revolutionary War soldiers buried in them. Some headstones are so old they have been worn smooth by the weather and are unreadable. So many children, before vaccines and medications. Why did this woman never marry, in a time when that was unusual? Why are some graves—really old ones—covered with a slab of cement, or has a little triangular shaped metal tent on top of them? If this was to protect the corpses from scavenging animals, why aren’t all the graves from that time period done the same way? Naturally, standing in the cemetery on a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon in rural Alabama, my creativity started going wild.

I do feel like I do my best work when I write about Alabama, but at the same time so much of it is so steeped in the county and in the family history I am hesitant to publish any of it; partly because it feels so personal to me, and secondly, because I didn’t grow up here. I think that sense of not being where I was supposed to be, where we should have been, also played a factor in my always feeling like an outsider. I am of Alabama, but I am also not of Alabama, so even when I write about Alabama I feel like a fraud. Every step of the way writing Bury Me in Shadows I considered pulling the plug and writing something else to turn into my publisher to fulfill the contract I’d signed. There are so many Alabama stories and novel ideas in my files; I did publish another one last year, “The Spirit Tree,” and one of my personal favorites of my own short stories, “Smalltown Boy” is also one of my Alabama stories. I would love to tell all the stories I was told growing up, about the history of the county and legends of lore of my family history. So what if some (most) of it wasn’t true and were simply tales my grandmother reinvented for me? But that can work, too—I’d be writing fiction anyway, right? I used her story about the Lost Boys for Bury Me in Shadows, after all, and that worked out okay, didn’t it?

I really do need to get back to writing, don’t I?

So now I am going to go to bed. I am not entirely sure when I will be here again, but I also didn’t think I would get any entries done while I am away, so who knew? Take care till I am back again!

El Castillo at Chichen Itza. I was there over thirty years ago and loved it.

Galveston

Thursday and last day of work before my trip. I didn’t sleep that great last night–lots of tossing and turning and waking up, and for some ungodly reason Sparky decided I should get up at four–and then hassled and harassed me until I finally got up before six. I don’t feel tired–that may change, of course– and actually kind of good this morning. I didn’t have anything to bring for lunch, so I guess I will be ordering for delivery again. It’ll be a nice treat for myself, and of course tonight I’ll have to spoil Sparky before I take him to board at the Cat Practice. I hate boarding him; I always worry he thinks he’s being abandoned again. Hang in there, little guy! We’ll pick you up Wednesday afternoon.

Well, this Supreme Court continues to prove themselves disgusting pigs and traitors who make Roger P. Taney look like a fucking amateur. All I will say is: you know who you are, you know what you did MORE THAN ONCE, and I will forgive MAGA before I forgive you. I hope you’re proud of yourselves. Hope your moral superiority is worth it.

You have no idea, Constant Reader, how glad I am that I am old.

I was kind of tired when I got home from work yesterday, but I forced myself to do some chores around trying to get my Youtube algorithm un-fucked-up with; yet another reason algorithms should be done away with because they are of Satan. As I have mentioned, I’ve been watching the insane bread-and-circus of this idiotic political movement eating itself alive. I’ve started calling this whole mess The Real Housewives of MAGA. Kristi and Pam have been fired from the cast, but not soon enough; may the rest of their lives be as ignominious and hateful as they deserve. Yet Laura Loomer, Candace, and Erika rage on. I despise all three of them, but watching them meltdown and come for each other can be highly entertaining. I generally watch updates on RHOMAGA from more leftist influencers, but sometimes I won’t be paying full attention, and before I can stop it Youtube autoplays the next video…and sometimes it’s an actual video from one of these three little pigs. This fucks up my algorithms, and as a result Youtube was offering me right-wing content more so than ever before. It could also be that someone there rejiggered said algorithms to push right-wing content. It’s so much fun living in a world where you cannot discern fact from fiction on the news. Sigh. Again, I am very glad I am old.

I’m proud of myself for getting the dishes done and the dishwasher run last night around watching documentaries on Youtube. I saw an absolutely fascinating one on the White Hurricane on the great lakes, which sounded like it was horrible. The video primarily focused on the lakes and the conditions; many ships were out there before they knew how big the storm was getting or how fast it was going. I am assuming that Michigan and other surrounding areas also got hit pretty hard. I’m planning on looking up more information on it. More than 250 people were killed on the lakes by the storm, and yes, apparently the surrounding areas were battered, too. Imagine a massive blizzard with hurricane force winds. Sounds pretty fucking terrifying to me, frankly.

I need to make a packing list for the trip tomorrow; I let Paul take the good suitcase so I am going to have to find something to take with me. I’d rather not take the big suitcase, but I may just go ahead and do so there will be room for everything instead of shoving things into overstuffed gym bags. I also have to run an errand on the way home tonight; I should go uptown and get the mail. I’ve been avoiding doing this after work because driving uptown on Claiborne is such a damned nightmare; but I have a prescription I need to get and so I may as well stop by the mail too; I also need to pick up my copy of Jordan Harper’s new book. I’ve got Alafair’s latest queued up on Audible to listen to in the car on the way up tomorrow. But it’s also supposed to rain this afternoon, and bearing that in mind, I may wait to go uptown until tomorrow and after I drop Sparky off. That actually makes the most sense; load up the car, take Sparky to the vet, and go uptown and then head down Claiborne to I-10.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow before I head out. Till then!

I highly recommend the Bloody Mary’s at Commanders Palace.

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. ↩︎

That’s the Way Love Goes

Sunday morning the Gregalicious slept late, and I feel good this morning. I stayed up late to watch Saturday Night Live return, and wasn’t terribly impressed. Our Internet also kept going in and out all day, which was annoying, especially during football games. The three games I primarily watched–Kentucky-Mississippi, Auburn-Oklahoma, and Georgia-Alabama, were all excellent games–and I also switched over to LSU-South Alabama periodically, but it was also a blow out so didn’t need to watch much. Still unsure how this season is going to shake out for everyone, which makes it interesting. I think there’s a lot more parity in the conference now, once you get past the clearly best teams this year (right now, I am going out on a limb and saying it’s Alabama and Texas, both teams LSU has to play in Baton Rouge this year) I think everyone is pretty equal for the most part, with the usual suspects (Mississippi State, Vanderbilt) in the basement. Kentucky almost beat Georgia last week and did beat Mississippi yesterday; Georgia almost beat Alabama, and that Auburn-Oklahoma game came down to the wire. The Saints play at noon today, which is cool, playing the Dirty Birds in Atlanta.

I did manage to get some things done during the games; I cleaned the downstairs bathroom thoroughly, I ran some errands in the morning (mail, Fresh Market, car wash) and then came home to start watching football. I also read, while in my chair, both We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson and The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin (more on both later), so hope to start the new Gabino Iglesias at some time today, most likely during the Saints game. Jackson and Levin are excellent writers whom I deeply admire, with completely different styles but evoking the same feelings when you read them. I also managed to get most of the dishes finished yesterday, with whatever I used yesterday as the only dirty dishes left in the sink–and that will take about two minutes, tops. I had thought about delaying my trip to make groceries until tomorrow, but now that I am up I think I’ll go ahead and do that this morning and get it out of the way.

I also want to work on the kitchen a bit today, and I also want to get the floors worked on again. Sparky tears up the rugs all the time when he’s running around like a demon to burn off some of his Big Energy, and the longer they are messed up the worse they get messed up. I also have some other posts I need to get done this morning before I leave to make groceries; and the longer I let them sit there unfinished, the more likely it is they’ll continue unfinished. I have a particularly spicy one about transphobia that I’d love to get done at some point so I can Substack it (and attract more of the bigots and Nazis there), and of course, there are any number of others unfinished as well. Heavy heaving sigh. I also have three book reviews/reports to write–I’ve now finished The Price by Armen Keteyian and John Talty; an arc of We Are Watching by Alison Gaylin, and Everybody Knows by Jordan Harper, and I need to get those done sooner rather than later as well. I also have some emails I need to answer as well as some to generate.

Sounds like a to-do list to me, doesn’t it? I also need to clean up the mess around my desk. But the key is not to get overwhelmed by the length of the to-do list, and just start marking things off. I also need to work on the Scotty Bible today, but I can also see that I am starting to think in the old bad anxiety/stress markers by overwhelming myself with so much to do already. Next weekend I have an eye appointment, so I can order new glasses, and my doctor’s appointment is coming up. I am probably going to meet Dad in Alabama weekend after next, and will probably go up to Kentucky later this month. How exciting!

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and hope everyone in North Carolina and Tennessee are okay.

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.

Screenshot

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?

Would You Lay With Me In a Field of Stone

Thursday, and my last day in the office for the week, which I’m not going to cheer about but I am starting to feel it. I haven’t had a full week of work in what seems like forever, between Labor Day and the hurricane and all. This week is the reset week, when you have to get re-oriented and back into the normal flow of life. I think I’m there; I wrote again this week, and I also worked on the Scotty Bible. I didn’t write anything last night, but I typed up the notes from three volumes. Left to go are Jackson Square Jazz, Vieux Carré Voodoo, and Garden District Gothic, and I also have to go through the last two and nock pages. Then I have to organize it, as well as summarize each book and list key plot points and characters. One of the lovely things about having a lengthy backlist is you can go back and mine the old books for references and even “hmmm, could this character be interesting to bring back at this point?” Yes, I am enjoying myself, and it’s great. I ran an errand after work last night–just the mail–but I also have to stop on the way home tonight at the grocery for a small run (I am resisting the urge to splurge on jelly beans, which are my literal favorite thing right now, and I am trying to break the habit but they’re so good!!!!) and will probably take the evening off from doing anything other than chores. Paul caught up the laundry yesterday, which was a very pleasant surprise, and I am currently soaking the dishes so I can finish washing them tonight. I would love to cruise into the weekend with all of these chores already taken care of so I can lose myself in college football while correcting the manuscript so far (as well as reading it all the way through to see how repetitious and tedious it must be).

I feel good and alert this morning, which is nice, and also think I slept through the night for the first time in a while–I’ve been waking up lately in the middle of the night, but am always able to get back to sleep–and I feel rested. No telling how long that will last, of course, but–last day in the office for the week, so as long as I make it through the day–and it will be a busy one, too. That’s fine; being busy always makes the day go by faster, which is nicer than having it drag all day. We’re still catching up on appointments that were canceled last week because of the hurricane, and looking ahead to next week…well, next week isn’t quite as busy once the “oops I need to do my STI swabs” worries from Southern Decadence experiences starts to fade. Halloween, of course, is just around the corner, so we’ll have one of these periods in the two weeks following it, as well. My people are like clockwork, really.

WE got caught up on English Teacher, Bad Monkey, and Only Murders in the Building last night. There are also a lot of other shows dropping soon that look great, too; I’m interested in American Sports Story: Aaron Hernandez because that case always interested me. I’d even thought about basing a book on it, using LSU and the Saints rather than Florida and the Patriots, but I don’t know if it’s that compelling anymore, so seeing it through the eyes of a fictionalize television adaptation will help me make up my mind if it’s something I want to attempt in the future. I’d like to spend some time reading Jordan Harper’s Everyone Knows, which is wonderful, and I’d love to finish it this weekend and move on to my Halloween Horror Reading challenge for October. I want to reread an old horror favorite to prime the pump, maybe Stephen King or The Haunting of Hill House, which is overdue for a reread, or I could perhaps reread We Have Always Lived in the Castle, which I’ve not reread in a very long time. Yeah, maybe that’s what I’ll do.

There are some big college games this weekend, too. I want to wash the car this weekend and clean out the interior, which I think I might be able to do tomorrow afternoon when I finish my work-at-home duties and on the way home from picking up the mail. My messy workspace needs to be organized and cleaned this weekend, and maybe–just maybe–I’ll be able to take a box down out of the attic. I can clean all the copies of my own books out of the cabinets once there’s space for them to be stored in the attic, which will be a lovely way to free up space and reorganize the kitchen. I’d also like to get a few more chapters done before the end of the weekend and Monday rolls around again. I really do need to get into the habit of making to-do lists again…

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning, if not sooner; one never knows.