Tag: Nathan Lane

You Don’t Bring Me Flowers

You don’t sing me love songs…anymore.

I had been waiting to hear about an anthology I sold a story to (they asked me to keep it quiet until further notice), but had never did so I could never mention it. But it was announced; they just hadn’t tagged me. Anyway, the anthology is Celluloid Crimes, and will be released this summer from Level Best Books. My story is “The Last To See Him Alive,” which actually now is the first, revised chapter of Chlorine, which, if you’re wondering, I’ve never stopped thinking about or working on since I first brought it up on my blog six or seven years ago. Over the weekend, I did confess to someone that I have about six or seven novels currently in progress; Chlorine is definitely one of them. In fact, taking Chapter One and turning it into a stand-alone short story also triggered some creativity in my brain, and that helped the entire novel take shape, and now I know what the middle part will be, and the end will become even more poignant and noir-ish with these necessary changes to the story. Huzzah! More about the story and the anthology as it nears its publication date.

The auction for the Transgender Law Center concluded last night, and we raised over $58,000! I have to admit being enormously pleased and proud of the organizing committee as well as all the people who donated items and those who bid on them. Well done, everyone! This project began two or three years ago (it was before my arm surgery, I do know that much–I have no grasp or concept of time anymore–but other than that? Pfffft.) and it’s kind of hard to believe it’s over and done with at last. I didn’t do that much–the driving forces were truly Susanna Calkins, Sandra SG Wong, Ellison Cooper (Jen Dornan-Fish), Cheryl Head, and Ed Aymar. The group was exceptionally fun to work with, despite my on-going issues, and I didn’t contribute nearly as much as I ordinarily do when I am volunteering because of my on-going issues, but my fellow organizers were so efficient and on top of things I didn’t need to, which was lovely. It was truly a great group, and our advisory board (including spokesperson Robyn Gigl, Brenda Buchanan, and John Copenhaver) were also amazing and hard-working. What a lovely experience this was indeed.

I did get some writing done last night, but not nearly enough. After driving uptown to get the mail and then making groceries, I was pretty fried by the time I got home, so wasn’t really able to resist Sparky’s meowing insistence that I get in my chair and let him sleep in my lap, so I did. We continued watching Mid-century Modern, and you know, not every joke lands nor does every scene necessarily work, but all the actors are clearly having a good time with it, and Matt Bomer is absolutely perfect as the beautiful, former Mormon flight attendant who is actually very sweet and a little like Rose from The Golden Girls, completely without guile and literal. Nathan Lane can be a bit histrionic, but he’s Nathan Lane; always charming and likable. Such a shame Linda Lavin died, because she’s terrific as Lane’s mother–and was probably going to at least be nominated for an Emmy. But Nathan Lee Graham steals the entire show as a former fashion editor who is very quick-witted in that bitchy sarcastic way that so many of us develop as a shell for self-defense. It’s also refreshing to see a show about older gay men who, like The Golden Girls, still are vital and have sex lives and embracing life rather than sliding into self-pity or caricature. These characters would have been easy to play as one-dimensional stereotypes, but it’s a tribute to these actors’ skill that they have heart and are real people. I’m sure it won’t thrill some queer people–nothing ever does, we are notoriously critical of things about us–but it’s nice to see gay men as realized characters on a traditional style sitcom, and definitely a progression from Will and Grace.

I feel better today than I did yesterday; another good night of sleep was had, and this morning I don’t feel any brain fog or exhaustion like I did yesterday. I think I am now acclimating back to my life, which is nice because I also need to get my act together and start getting things done again. This weekend will most likely be restful and lovely as well; and perhaps time to start working on household projects (like cleaning out the attic) so the house can be sort of presentable and livable again. Stranger things have happened, you know. I started writing a tribute to Dorothy Allison for my newsletter, triggered by the tribute reading I did Sunday, as I have been remembering how much she and her work have always meant to me. It’s kind of hard to believe such a force is gone from the world.

Sigh. And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Good Times

Up early before the sun, although the sky is beginning to lighten as the days get longer and summer looms, with all of its brutality, just over said horizon. I am feeling rested and more like myself this morning, which will make sliding back into reality and heading into the office a lot easier. I am so glad I took yesterday off. I was so tired yesterday I don’t even want to remember how that felt. I feel asleep in my easy chair with Sparky in my lap numerous times before I finally stumbled up to be around ten and slept like a rock for a solid eight hours. I’m still a bit disoriented, but by the end of the day that should be all sorted out, one way or another.

We finished watching Reacher last night and enjoyed it. This is the character I remember from the books, and the show is very well cast and very well done. Alan Ritchson is perfect for Reacher–acting, physicality, attitude–and I’ve always been a sucker for a paladin, haven’t you? Reacher is the epitome of the lone wolf/mysterious hero who always somehow manages to be in the right spot at the right time to rescue/help someone who needs it. I don’t know that I could write such a character or series, but I certainly have enjoyed Lee Child’s take on the classic paladin trope. I’m already looking forward to season four.

I feel rested today but still a bit disoriented and discombobulated from the weekend and making the transition from Famous Author Greg to regular go to the office every day and do chores Greg. I need to get back on the writing horse and get this fucking book finished (it’s not, and it’s due today, sigh)–it’s funny how every time I get on a roll with it, I get distracted and disturbed away from it. Naught to do but dive back in head first, right? I do have to go run the errands I didn’t run yesterday (too exhausted) on the way home tonight, but hopefully I can get some words in before we finish watching Mid-century Modern, which we started last night. The first episode has some flaws, and got off to a not very good start…but started picking up steam in the latter half and had some surprises–subverting expectations from what is clearly being done in a classic sitcom format (complete with annoying as fuck laugh track); despite setting up a traditional sitcom plot with a gay twist, that’s not where it went, which was a very pleasant surprise, and there were some really good laughs in the second episode. Linda Lavin is the jewel of the cast, playing Nathan Lane’s mother, and the fact she died during production is truly sad. I can see how it might turn some of its intended audience aside, but…can we really justify not even giving it a chance while bitching about our lack of representation in entertainment, let alone in the world of sitcoms? There is no pleasing some gays. My primary critique of Will and Grace was that it sanitized being gay so it wouldn’t scare some viewers–but it was also a network show airing mostly during the Bush years. The show was important, and some of the criticisms directed at it were definitely fair….I’ll probably explore my ambivalence to that show (while recognizing its importance) at some point over on Substack.

I also need to sort out my checkbook, figure out where I am at with things, and put proverbial nose to grindstone.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back probably tomorrow morning.

Brothers in Arms

Ah, the Menendez Brothers.

I hadn’t thought about them in years until Ryan Murphy announced they would be the focus of the second season of Monsters (although it could also have been a season of American Crime Story, for that matter; how does he decide? How did he decide Grotesquerie would stand alone when it could have been a season of American Horror Story? For that matter, why is the Aaron Hernandez one American Sports Story instead of American Crime Story?). It’s been over thirty years since the original murders, and this case was the first one I remember that was, thanks to cable television, part of the public discourse; the trial was televised and people watched; everyone had an opinion; and the tabloid coverage was crazy. I don’t remember another crime story have this kind of impact before, but it set the stage for OJ’s trial, the Jon-Benet Ramsey murder, and so many since then it’s hard to really keep track of them all. But I do believe the brothers were the first to be so much in the public eye once they were arrested; a “viral” crime before anyone knew what that even meant.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to watch this latest take on the Menendez brothers and the murder of their parents, to be honest. I’ve watched at least one documentary on the case years ago, and I watched the made-for-TV movie with Billy Warlock of Days of Our Lives and Baywatch fame (I remember especially the scene when his wig was torn off his head), and of course I read Dominick Dunne’s coverage in Vanity Fair. As I mentioned, it was one of the first murder cases to get national attention, to be was all over the 24 hour news channels, not to mention Court TV and all the others. The national tabloids, magazines, and even local newspapers and stations scrambled for coverage1 . I remember the first trial ended in a hung jury, and I kind of lost interest after that–as did the media. The only reason I knew there was a second trial that ended in convictions was thanks to Dominick Dunne. The case would get back into the news periodically in the years since, but I didn’t really pay much attention. Books and documentaries and fictional adaptations continued to be churned out in the decades since their conviction, and like I said, I wasn’t really planning on watching this new series2. I thought they were psychotic killers who murdered their parents for their money.

And yet, one Saturday night after we’d finished watching all the football games, Paul suggested we start watching Monsters, and I thought, why not? If it’s not good, we can always stop watching.

I didn’t think the first episode was very good3, but we decided to give the show one more episode on Sunday, and then we were hooked. It’s a very Ryan Murphy show, to be sure: it’s visually beautiful, and the acting is excellent. The two young men who play the brothers, Cooper Koch (Eric) and Nicholas Alexander Chavez (Lyle), late of General Hospital, are gorgeous to look at, are often shown in some form of undress (including a full frontal shot of Koch), and they deliver some astonishing performance (so does the entire cast). There’s one scene that Koch does that is almost the entire episode, him doing a monologue about his life, his parents, his brother, and his failures, his weakness, that is an Emmy reel in and of itself. Javier Bardem and Chloe Sevigny are also fantastic, as is Nathan Lane as Dominick Dunne; Leslie Grossman and Ari Graynor also shine in supporting roles. One thing you always have to give Murphy credit for–incredible actors giving incredible performances is something you can usually expect from one of his shows. (Jessica Lange’s four seasons on American Horror Story is a masterclass in acting talent and range.)

While I know the family has had some objections to the series–not the least of which is the implication that the brothers had that incestuous closeness; but some of the scenes that showed that were from other people’s perspectives; for example, the scene in which they are in the shower together–a cousin has stated that the dad did make the boys shower together–and Lyle did testify under oath that when they were kids, his dad encourage him to also molest Erik. (I think seeing a report on that is what made me think there were hints of incest in their relationship; I honestly don’t remember as it was thirty years ago and I didn’t pay that much attention. I did think, when I first read about the murders, that they were guilty (they did shoot their parents) and when they switched the sexual abuse defense, I 1000% thought they were making that up (no one could say it didn’t happen) as a “get out of jail” free card.

And watching this show? For the very first time, I thought they might have been telling the truth. I knew boys were capable of being raped and molested and abused as children, even as teenagers; the priest scandals were just slowly beginning to come out into the light. but the amount of Americans–men especially–refused to accept the fact that boys could also be victims was astonishingly high. For one thing, most victims were too ashamed to do anything about it (another toxic masculinity issue), and because other men wouldn’t believe them, or think “they wanted it” (you know, the same things they say about women rape victims). The shame of “being unmanned” was still a thing in the 1990’s–the toxically masculine also have issues with gay men because it besmirches manhood or something fucking stupid like that, or “womanizes” men. And it was very difficult for anyone to believe a father could do that to his sons.

And bearing that in mind, I completely understand why the Menendez brothers wouldn’t have told anyone, nor would they have told the cops or their original lawyer. It makes sense. And they only admitted to it when it looked like they were definitely headed for the chair.

It. Makes. Sense.

And I would have probably voted to acquit.

The show also highly sexualizes its young stars in a way that we are seeing more of these days (certainly in Ryan Murphy series; I have to say I do approve of the objectification of men–and I also like that the gay male beauty standard, so often maligned within our own community, has clearly spread to straight men of all ages. I’m amazed, for example, how many young men have realized the importance of leg day and building up a lovely round hard butt. The two young actors playing the leads, Cooper Koch (Erik) and Nicholas Alexander Chavez, are incredibly gorgeous; Koch even does a full frontal scene sans prosthetic. They also had good chemistry between them, which…I can certainly understand why the family was furious about the hints of incest in the series–but that was what the person whose perspective was being shown thought. Lyle also testified to abusing Erik when they were younger–and like I said, they seemed almost unnaturally close.

And when it was all over, Paul asked, “do you think they were abused?”

GREG: I didn’t at the time, but now I’m not so sure. And they’re the only ones who know for sure, so we’ll never know.

I think the show had changed a lot of minds about the brothers–and now that a member of Menudo had come forth to claim he was also sexually abused by Jose Menendez, they may even finally get out of jail…but would they have been so “viral” at the time if they weren’t good looking young men?

Sexualization, Party of Two?
I could be wrong, but I don’t think men’s bikinis were cut or worn like this in 1990.
See what I mean about sexualizing them? There’s an entire scene of him doing squats with dumb bells FROM BEHIND.
This is another example of the “incest inference” scenes. It doesn’t look like anything off until you think, would two young men talking in a pool float this close together?
  1. When we got to the episode on the Ryan Murphy series where OJ went on the run in the Bronco. Paul turned to me and said, “The 90’s were a time, weren’t they?” to which I replied, “Jon-Benet Ramsey, Versace, OJ, the Menendez brothers–yeah, it was one major crime mystery after another.” ↩︎
  2. I have a love/hate relationship with Ryan Murphy productions. When he hits the ball cleanly, he knocks it out of the park. But most of the time his shows collapse under their own weight and endings rarely resolved everything. But his better shows are usually based on a true story… because the story’s already written. ↩︎
  3. It was very over the top and campy; it wasn’t until later that I realized that each episode is the story from someone else’s perspective (aka Rashomon), which is something I absolutely love, so I should rewatch that episode to get a better sense of it. ↩︎

The Streak

Tuesday morning and staring down a brand new day; the week is passing every so slowly but that’s fine, you know. I slept really well last night, but was kind of slow to waking up this morning. The coffee is going down pretty well so far, and I do feel rested this morning; much more awake than yesterday, but not lively as of yet. Yesterday was a nice day, if a very busy one at the office; I suspect that is going to be the case again today. I think I’ll just come straight home from work tonight. I didn’t do much of anything when I got home from work yesterday, other than finish watching Monsters before going to bed relatively early. The kitchen is a mess and disaster area, so I need to get that taken care of tonight when I get home; tomorrow I can do the mail and the grocery store if I need to. Fascinating, right?

I did manage to do very little writing last night–Chapter Six proving to be a bit more difficult than Five was–but that’s okay; I was tired and not really operating on all cylinders, either. I was horribly lazy, too. When I came downstairs this morning to the kitchen I was horrified that I left it like that overnight, knowing I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until after work tonight. The sink has dirty dishes and there’s stuff all over my counters. I didn’t even make the chicken salad, which I will absolutely have to do tonight. The refrigerator also needs to be organized. Sigh. And I’m sure there’s another load of laundry already, too. Heavy heaving sigh. This is why I need to get this shit completely done on the weekends.

I also didn’t do my daily German lesson yesterday, either, which is a total shame because I was on a rather long streak with it. Some of it is coming back to me, which makes the lessons somewhat easier; I remember a lot of vocabulary words–or they come back at least when I see them on the screen. Our plan is to go to Amsterdam and Germany at some point; I’d rather like to see Berlin and the German Museum where the stolen head of Queen Nefertiti–which belongs in Egypt–is currently housed. I don’t want to be fluent, but at least be able to speak somewhat coherently to the locals. So, definitely have to do it tonight, for sure.

I also discovered something chilling about my last name yesterday–I may have been aware but my mind had forgotten–but the Nazi Master Race theory? Die herrenvolk. Yikes. I’ve always assumed herren meant men–it’s on every men’s room door in Germany, Austria and Switzerland–but it also means lord…as well as master. Double yikes. It was definitely unsettling to be slapped in the face with a reminder (if I knew it once) of what herrenvolk means….triple yikes and gross.

I also didn’t get to read last night. I managed about six or seven hundred words written on the book, and Sparky really wanted me in my easy chair–he’s always super needy on Mondays after having us both home all weekend, and was climbing me while I fed him–so I obliged. He’s such a sweet baby, and he was in bed with me again this morning when I hit snooze for the first time. He’s not as docile as Scooter, and isn’t nearly as manipulative as Skittle was, but he’s a sweet baby doofus who’s gradually getting more calm than he was when we first got him. And I love how he’s always waiting at the door when I get home–he hears the gate close. Paul says he’ll be upstairs asleep on the bed and will suddenly pop up, jump down and run down the stairs…and he knows it means I’ll be coming through the front door in a moment or two. He still likes to ride on my shoulders, too.

It does look as if that tropical system off the Yucatan is going to form and head for the Florida panhandle, as there’s a cold front coming in from Texas to Louisiana which will push it that direction–which of course is always subject to change right up until the eye wall comes ashore. It’s projected to be arriving sometime Thursday afternoon. I wish everyone on the panhandle and in the path of said storm luck and a speedy recovery from the destruction, which will be minimal, fingers crossed.

I enjoyed Monsters, and so did Paul. He doesn’t really remember the Menendez case as well as I do–of course, back then I was a potential crime writer, so all big crimes interested me for a while until there was so much coverage I got sick of the cases. I honestly don’t remember the incest stuff, which apparently the real brothers are really bothered by; but I also had that sense when it was going on from somewhere, that there was incest beyond the paternal molestation and rape, and according to the show, Erik testified to molesting his brother with a toothbrush? One of the final episodes is more focused on Dominick Dunne, and frankly, I’d love to see a series where Nathan Lane plays Dunne; he deserves an Emmy for that episode alone. I’m going to think about the show a bit more before writing about it, of course–it needs digesting–but the acting was top notch, as almost always in a Murphy series; the actors playing the leads are very impressive…and will probably be seen in a lot of Murphy shows as he likes to work with the same people over and over again.

And on that note, I’m heading into the spice mines. I do have a ZOOM meeting tonight at 6, and will be trying to clean the kitchen before that gets started. I may be back later, I’m never really sure how that goes, you know? If not, I will see you on the morrow, Constant Reader.

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Room Full of Roses

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

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

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

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

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

For Your Own Good

As Monday rolls around again–huzzah?–and we’re in the last week of April. These last two months have certainly lasted forever, haven’t they? Christ the Lord.

I did something really strange yesterday morning; or rather, more strange than my usual, which is pretty strange. I started writing another Scotty book. It may come to nothing, but ever since the title Quarter Quarantine Quadrille popped into my head a couple of weeks ago, my mind has toyed with the thought over and over again. And since the intro to every Scotty book opens with an homage to the opening of a truly famous classic novel (Rebecca, The Haunting of Hill House, Lolita, Peyton Place, to name but a few) the thought crossed my mind that I could do an homage to “The Masque of the Red Death”, so I looked it up on-line and cut and pasted the first two paragraphs into a word document, and started playing with it a bit. I’ll probably look at the openings of other pandemic-related fictions, like Death in Venice or The Plague before finally deciding on which one to actually use–or even if a Scotty quarantine book is something the world wants or needs–but the actual opening of the first chapter came to me on Saturday night, while we watched that dreadful Chris Hemsworth as a mercenary movie: as I watched a fight scene where Hemsworth’s character took on basically a team of soldiers by himself and killed them all in less than two minutes, Paul said, “I wonder how long this script was? Two pages of dialogue, maybe?” and I thought to myself, this is probably what a Colin novel would have to look like, and from there I leapt to Scotty, Frank and Taylor sitting around during quarantine, watching a movie like this, and Taylor saying, idly, “This is what Colin actually does when he’s not here, isn’t it?” and then forces the questions I’ve been asking myself over the last few books–especially in the last one–about morality and ethics and how do Scotty and Frank and the family look past what Colin’s source of income is? And since I signaled at the end of the last book that Colin was on his way home…and it did come up, during the book, that being involved with Colin makes them targets…that maybe, just maybe, it was time to deal with that in a Scotty book. So I wrote the first few paragraphs of a first chapter, where exactly that happens: they are watching an action/adventure movie when Taylor makes the observation, and the awkward conversation that ensues from it.

It might be a false start and a dead end–Lord knows I already have enough on my plate without trying to write another Scotty book on top of it–but…stranger things have happened.

I also reviewed my Sherlock Holmes story, which was actually much better than I ever dared dream; revising it and making it stronger will not actually be the odious chore I feared it might. On the other hand, I cannot be certain that the editor will feel much the same way about the story as I do, so it must be honed and refined and polished till it gleams in the light of day. (Ironically, I couldn’t remember the end….) But I did a much  better job than I thought I had–yes, I am my own worst critic, this is absolutely true–and this pleases me to no end. The story itself works, and just needs a little bit of tweaking the language and an added sentence here, a subtracted sentence there…yes, I am very pleased with it. Once I get it in shape, off it goes–and I think my other one that’s due this week only needs a tweak here and there as well.

HUZZAH!

Always good news.

We also watched Hustlers–didn’t care too much for it; sorry, felt like it could have been much better–and then the first episode of the Penny Dreadful spin-off, City of Angels, set in Los Angeles in 1938, and I liked it. A lot. It has a very noir sensibility, crossed over with some supernatural/horror elements, and it addresses not only race but Nazi infiltration into Los Angeles in that year–and pulls no punches. Draw your own conclusions, but I thought it was terrific, and look forward to watching the rest of the season. Nathan Lane is very well cast as a hardboiled LA homicide detective, and you can never go wrong with Natalie Dormer. I then watched–while Paul got ready for the week–watched a historical mini-series on Starz called Maximilian and Marie de Bourgogne, I think a multi-language production? Sometimes it sounded like French, sometimes like German, sometimes like something in between; perhaps Flemish? Anyway, it’s quite well-produced and this royal couple never gets the attention they quite deserve, given their marriage resulted in nearly five hundred years of wars between France and Germany (through its many iterations, from Holy Roman Empire to Austrian Empire to German Empire). The fifteenth century is an interesting time; one of blood feuds between branches of both the royal families of England (the Wars of the Roses) and the French Valois (the Orleans and Burgundy branches, respectively; ending with the Burgundy branch being absorbed into the House of Habsburg…so yeah), and a tighter unifying of the Holy Roman Empire into a hereditary throne for the Habsburgs. It was also the century in which Spain was freed of Moorish occupation and unified into Spain again–and once again, the Habsburgs wound up getting involved there and absorbing another throne. I’d known about the series for quite some time, and was glad to see it finally available to stream on one of my (too many) services. Yay, HISTORY!!!

I woke up feeling tired this morning, so I decided to make today another vacation day, stay home and get some things done around the house. I may venture out to the grocery store, but then again, I may not; those trips always seem to exhaust me, and why push it if I don’t have to? I have to be jealously guard my health these days, and my energy–bearing in mind the subconscious depression and angst can also be wearing down my body fairly regularly; another post-Katrina lesson–sometimes you’re not even aware of the depression bogging you down until it actually does. I spent the weekend pretty much in a complete state of exhaustion; it was very odd, and limiting in what I was able to work on and get done. Don’t get me wrong, I am delighted I reread all these in-progress short stories that have been languishing in my “edit” folder for so long–so much so that I actually got ideas on how to fix and rewrite and revise them all; there may be a massive flurry of submissions coming to the few publications out there that take crime stories–but the lack of energy I experienced for the majority of the weekend wasn’t very helpful, really.

And it seems to have carried over into today as well. Yay? Not really.

But I have about a million emails to reply to, several more to initiate, and then I’ going to probably head first into the spice mines, where I need to stay for most of the day. Since I am taking a vacation day, I need to make it worthwhile.

And so, on that note, I am heading back into the spice mines. Have a lovely and productive Monday, Constant Reader. I know I hope to.

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