The Bird Hunters

Wednesday!

It was cold here yesterday, but we didn’t get any snow, more’s the pity. I actually enjoyed the snow days we had earlier this year; it was so weird and beautiful, and the way it made the city look was also strangely gorgeous. I screen-shot or grabbed so many pictures of it from all over the Internet…I am even thinking about setting a Scotty during the snow (Bayou Blizzard Boogie, which is an extremely fun title, and the book could get one of those snowy images of the city for the cover and…this is how my brain works, y’all, and you wonder why I question my sanity at times? What do you mean, you don’t wonder about it because it’s so obvious? How very dare you! lol). But the cold is now gone; it’s in the fifties this morning, with a high predicted in the seventies, so we’re back to normal weather for New Orleans November.

Yesterday was a good day, more or less. Yes, we were busy at work and yes, I was the only counselor working in the clinic (the rest of the week and month, it looks like), but I got through it. I’m a little behind again on admin duties, but I think I’ll be able to catch up this afternoon. The morning was back to back when I last looked yesterday, but the afternoon wasn’t quite as intense. I managed to get home and do chores last night (huzzah!) before settling in to finish off The Diplomat‘s third season, which is spectacular. HIGHLY recommend this show; if you’ve not already seen it, jump in head first. You won’t regret it.

I also started making my to-do list yesterday; yes, it’s rather late to make a weekly to-do list, but I can make a new one every Monday and ease my way back into the habit of the lists and following them; the organization of this pleases my anxiety to no end. I need to put “clean out inbox” on it, because the list of my unanswered emails is getting rather lengthy, and there are few things I like better than opening my inbox and seeing nothing in it. I do not miss the days of volunteer work that resulted in hundreds more emails every week. The problem is when there’s not a lot to answer it’s very easy to blow it off for another day, and since I always lose track of days and time, next thing I know it’s been a few weeks! My apologies to anyone who’s expecting an email from me…

But it’s actually been a good week. No fatigue, which has been marvelous, and just normal being 64 tired, which is lovely. My body has been through the ringer already this decade, and so it’s not that unusual for me to still not be back to whatever the new normal is going to be. I worried that the fatigue and exhaustion was the new normal, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. The most important thing for me to do is ensure I never have a relapse with the colitis, although it will never ever get as bad as it was when I had to be hospitalized, since we now know what the problem is and it doesn’t need to be diagnosed, and my GI specialist will know what to do to get me through it as quickly as possible. I don’t think I’ll ever lose that much weight that quickly ever again, either. DO NOT RECOMMEND.

I also started organizing bigger projects for my newsletter. Ooooh, Gregalicious, explain more! I’ve been wanting to tackle two subjects there–masculinity and religion–but have been hesitant because they are such big topics, and there is some crossover between the two. It occurred to me this weekend that I could simply pick subjects that fall under either umbrella and post/write/share as chapters. How cool! (I’d also been idly thinking about writing a continuing story there when the lightbulb went on over my head; it is truly sad how oblivious I can be to the obvious.) So, now I am pulling all the essay ideas I have for either topic into one document with a descriptive paragraph–an outline, if you will–so I can get started with both: the masculinity essays will go under the over-arching umbrella of “Are You Man Enough?” and religion will go under “Recovering Christian.”

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

The Ramses II temple at Abu Simbel at night. This must be beautiful to see from the Nile.

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.

Hang in There, Girl

Sunday morning and the last day of my little staycation. It began with stomach distress, and is ending on a morning where I feel pretty good and rested. I didn’t do much of anything this entire time, other than chores and some cleaning and filing and organizing, but while not pushing myself to an insane level, I hope to get some things done today. I am punishing myself by not allowing myself to watch today’s Saints game; I am also going to try not to turn on the television itself until after five sometime this evening. Yesterday I ran my errands in the morning and did some more cleaning around the house while listening to music, and then turned on the television for football games. I watched some of Tennessee-Vanderbilt (was really pulling for Vanderbilt), some of the Iron Bowl and some of Arkansas-Missouri, and then watched LSU-Oklahoma for the grand finale of the day. The Tigers won (yay!) 37-17, and there were some upsets–Ohio State lost to Michigan again; Syracuse upset Miami; South Carolina surprised Clemson–so it has, indeed, been a wacky season. I also finished reading The Rival Queens, which was a lot of fun, and started reading my new fiction read (Winter Counts by David Heska Wanbli Weiden, which I’ve been wanting to read for several years now; lovely man, too) and my new non-fiction read, Erik Larson’s The Demon of Unrest, about the lead up to the fall of Fort Sumter after Lincoln was elected president. It’s very good–I love Larson’s work–and it’s kind of timely, particularly in reference to the division in today’s country, and it’s been a while since I’ve read a Civil War narrative (the last was Gore Vidal’s Lincoln), so it’s kind of interesting to dive into it.

I am going to try to do some writing today. I want to reread Hurricane Season Hustle again, and pull everything together on it, as well as to start perhaps revising some of my short stories and to finish an essay for the substack; I have several percolating, but the one I am leaning towards working on is “Recovering Christian,” which is about my relationship to religion and to God, really, and how being groomed to be religious as a child can be very detrimental to that child’s well-being. Ooooh, look at me taking on organized Christianity. ’bout time, as some would say. I remember when, growing up, the rules for polite society and conversation were that you never talked about money, religion, or politics. It certainly hasn’t helped anything that these things have all so much in the zeitgeist, ever since the unholy marriage of evangelical Christianity and the Reagan Republicans. I always took freedom of religion and the separation of church and state very seriously; reading so much History, particularly of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when the soil of Europe was soaked with blood over faith (The Rival Queens details that struggle in France after 1559) had a lot to do with it, just as that recent history drove the founders to put up explicit blocks to keep government and religion from being poisoned by each other–which is where we are now. Modern day Christians are driving believers away even as they grasp for more power.

I also figured out yesterday that the reason I was so lethargic on Friday was because it was too cold in the apartment. I was shivering yesterday morning–it was colder yesterday morning than it was Friday–when I remember, d’oh, the heat works properly now so I switched the upstairs and downstair thermostats to heat and within an hour, the apartment was toasty and warm and bearable. It is lovely again this morning (thank you, heater!), but I can also tell it’s cold again this morning–the windows around my desk always let me know how cold it is outside! (When I think about how much we used to freeze around here until the old system died…) In fact, Sparky is a kitty puddle in my easy chair right now, curled up inside the folds of the blanket resting in the chair–he’s always needier and cuddlier when it’s cold. He wouldn’t leave my chair yesterday, even when I’d get up for something to eat or drink–he stayed inside the blankets and waited for me to come back, which he never does. He usually runs ahead of me into the kitchen every time I get up to beg for food or treats or both. He also started trying to get me up around five this morning.

I am not berating myself for using this time off to rest and recalibrate and to get ready to sprint to the end of the year. I’ve got some chores to do this morning, but I am going to read for a bit with my morning coffee first, get cleaned up, and then try to seriously tackle this downstairs, which has been out of control due to my own laziness for quite some time. I need to take these rugs out and shake them, then replaced and vacuumed to within an inch of their life, and I also should do the stairs. Paul will be home Tuesday night (thank God), and then we have a few weeks before the disruptions of Christmas and New Year’s. A new year of horrors is coming; hard to get excited about that, you know? But my role in the resistance this time is to call out bullshit and lies and bigotry whenever I see it or experience it. If it makes me a target, it makes me a target; as a gay author, I am already on a list somewhere, you can be sure of that–my money’s on the Family Research Council, anything that has to do with that fetid Dobson family, and Tony Perkins. So, if they are going to come for me anyway, may as well go down swinging.

And on that rather somber note, I am heading into the spice mines for the rest of the day. I may be back later–I’m debating doing a post on The Rival Queens–but will most definitely be back tomorrow morning before I start my new work week. Have a lovely Sunday, and I’ll talk to you later, Constant Reader.

Shake

Well, yesterday was a good day for one Gregalicious. I didn’t get as much done around the house as I would have preferred, but c’est la vie. I did have football games on all day, mostly as a break from monotonous silence, but I did get to see the Florida upset of Mississippi, and surprisingly enough, LSU beat Vanderbilt last night to stop their three game losing streak…but have to play Oklahoma next, who managed to not only upset Alabama last night but beat them pretty soundly. After the LSU game I caught the end of Auburn-Texas A&M, which Auburn finally won in quadruple overtime. What a crazy year this has been in the SEC, has it not? Now the winner of Texas-Texas A&M will play Georgia for the SEC title. #madness.

But one thing I remembered finally is that I usually read during games I don’t necessarily care about, and so I finished The Reformatory by Tananarive Due at last yesterday, and what a read it was. I’d say it’s one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time, and I read a lot of really good books, so that is really saying something. I’ve added Due to my list of “must-read” writers, and she has a substantial backlist I am looking forward to exploring. It took me a very long time to get through this book, because it was so powerful and the horror in it was so completely real, but more on that later. I am going to go out on a limb and call it a masterpiece for now, and encourage you to read it if you have not. Today I am going to start reading Lavender House by Lev AC Rosen, whom I’ve met and found delightful, and whose career I’ve been following avidly. I’ve yet to read one of his books, but I am very excited to read one of the most acclaimed queer mysteries of the last few years. I’m also kind of thrilled to be reading fiction again. Today I am also going to read a couple of short stories a friend sent me to read, and probably will do some writing, either short story, essay, or the book, today as well. I went to get the mail and made a grocery run yesterday, so I don’t have to do anything errand-like today, but I should probably make it to the gym later this morning. The weather has been wonderful, and one thing I am determined to do this year is drive around the city taking pictures of Christmas decorations. I definitely want to write a nice essay about Christmas this year, and the essay I worked on briefly yesterday, “Recovering Christian,” is one I started working on about twenty years ago. The lovely thing about Substack is I now have a place to post those essays, and share them with the world. I do have to make more of an effort to post content there at least once a week.

I do wonder if all the readers I picked up there during my ranting about homophobia post are expecting that kind of content all the time? I don’t know, but in some ways I am thinking that the Substack (also a place to publish short stories, too, if I so choose) is kind of a good place to write about my life, and explore issues of being a queer American writer, and my thoughts and opinions about systemic bigotry, and all the things I was miseducated about as a child. (American Mythology, hello?) That way it will live up to the name it shares with this blog, “Queer and Loathing in America.” I also want to write essays about my gay life, and the lessons I learned the hard way, as well as writing. I’ve been unpacking my past ever since Mom died–the first time I’ve ever allowed myself to look back–and while I am not sorry I never did this before, I am also learning a lot more about myself and why I do things and why I react the way I do and how much of my life was controlled/driven by anxiety. I was fine at the party the other night, but too many people in spaces still makes me uncomfortable and uneasy, but that’s okay. The claustrophobia might be anxiety related, or it may be entirely it’s own thing, but the primary difference was that there was no adrenaline spike or spiraling. I was able to relax, and kind of enjoy myself more.

And that is what I meant when I said I was pulling back from the crime community and centering myself. I want to focus on myself, on Paul, and our needs and what we need to do and handle and take care of, and I don’t want to do emotional labor for anyone else anymore. I’ve been watching a lot of Youtube and TikTok videos about cutting MAGA voters out of your life, or at the very least setting boundaries, and I saw one that really made a lot of sense to me: we don’t feel safe around them, but we don’t have to cut them out entirely, we just have to stop giving them emotional labor. Go get sympathy from another MAGA voter, since you’re all so empathetic and sympathetic to the concerns, fears and rights of other people. It’s why BlueSky has been flooded by Twitter trolls, now that the genius has killed that platform (but hey, let’s put him in charge of government!). They don’t enjoy talking to each other, so they have to “pwn the libs.” But they just get blocked, so they’re the ones who wind up in a echo chamber. Hell, I block people who annoy me. It’s my space, my experience, and if I don’t want the aggravation of annoying people or giving them time or energy, well…no one can make me engage with people who steal my peace.

I also don’t think people understand how casual homophobia, so easy for straight people to slip into with their excessive privilege, makes us feel when we hear it or hear about it or (in some cases) read about it in screen shots. Not only do we no longer feel safe around you, we can’t count on you to stand up for us when the chips are literally down. There’s been some slightly viral conversation about some Jewish lesbian who voted for Trump and has been cut off from her friends and kicked off a team. “I wouldn’t do this to someone who voted for Harris,” she cries her crocodile tears, as she sits down with right-wing podcasters and plays victim and martyr. She voted for Trump because of pro-Palestine lefties…or so she claims. So she aligned herself with someone who actually had dinner with a Nazi, and has been embraced by American Nazis. Who ally themselves with the Proud Boys and other ant-Semites (who precisely are the voters who chant “Jew will not replace us” again?), and now wants everyone to feel sorry for her and pretends ignorance. Sorry not sorry, bitch–your new buddies and the Karens posting on your instagram talking about how horrible it is that queers actually can see this quisling bitch for who she is? Those bitches will be the first ones to turn you into the SS, moron. It’s especially egregious because my education in feminism and social justice was at the hands of lesbians; I’ve always thought lesbians, of all people, would know better than this bullshit. And this bitch is talking about “how we all need to have these tough conversations”–no, we don’t, honey. The time for tough conversations was before the election, and trust me, there’s not a single tough conversation I could possibly have where I’d be willing to come to an agreement or compromise with people who cheered the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the 80s and 90s. You don’t compromise with the Klan. You don’t compromise with Nazis. You don’t compromise with people who’s starting position is “you don’t deserve any rights, and you really shouldn’t exist.”

Feel free to pound your head into that wall until it’s pulp, Benedictine Arnold. Enjoy the lonely life of celibacy you’ve set up for yourself.

The funniest thing about her is she is a butch lesbian–short hair, masculine clothes, the whole ball of wax–and you know she is going to get challenged going into the ladies’ bathroom or changing room.

Good. Enjoy what you voted for. I have no patience with queer remoras attaching themselves to the sharks circling the rest of us. I certainly have no forgiveness in my heart for the future informers and camp guards. She showed us who she is, and we believe her.

And on that note, I am going to head over to my chair to read for a bit before I get to work around here. I slept really well again last night, and feel pretty good this morning. I also want to work on my review of The Reformatory, and get some other things done. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later on.

Forty Miles of Bad Road

Work at home Friday, and all is well in Gregworld. Granted, I haven’t looked at the news today or checked in on social media (probably should avoid that, to be honest), so my cheery mood should last until at least I finish this entry. I do have to go to the gym today, and I need to run a couple of errands, but other than that I think I am going to at least try to stay inside for most of the weekend. I may take a walk tomorrow morning, depending on how I feel, but I can’t just keep pretending the stamina will come back on its own, and it’s going to be tough getting it back. My eating habits are getting better, I am sleeping better, and my anxiety is almost completely gone.

I did a little writing last night, and it felt kind of good, so I am hoping to get back on that horse this weekend completely as well. I felt off all week, not sure what that was about, but today I don’t anymore. This week was also one of those weird weeks where I was more tired at the beginning of the week than I was at the end, which I am sure has everything to do with changing the sleep schedule on the weekends and then having to adjust back. I am not going to get up at six on my off-days; that will never happen–I have never been a “spring right out of bed wide awake” person, and I think that will last my entire life. I can live with it, to be honest. I hope to have a great weekend. I don’t have to do much more than touching up around the apartment, so I can get into a deeper clean this weekend–more paper is going to be tossed, as well as more books being pruned for the library sale. I’m looking forward to reading more of Ford’s Suicide Notes and possibly finishing it this weekend…and then perhaps reading some nonfiction until I leave on the trip. I still haven’t finished Rival Queens, and that’s something I really need to finish so I can move on to another.

We also finished the first season of Vigil, which was terrific right up to the closing credits. We immediately dove into season two, which is another murder mystery with international intrigue involving military operations in a fictional country in the Middle East (it occurred to me yesterday that middle east is very Eurocentric; it probably started being called that during the Roman Empire, when that was, to them, the middle east; is there another way of referring to that region that I’ve missed somehow? Something to ponder), so it’s similar but extremely different from the first season. There’s also going to be a new episode of Mary and George today, which I am very excited about. Oh! I should read The King’s Assassin for nonfiction; the show is based on the book and I do have a copy! Perfect! The day just got that much better!

I still need to rein in and focus my creativity, which is still bouncing all over the place like a whack-a-mole. But I do think if I settle into writing and Sparky doesn’t harass me, I think I should be able to get a lot done. He did start trying to get fed at his usual time, and he is nothing if not determined. He didn’t relent until I finally gave up and got up at seven thirty, and now he is nowhere to be seen. I do love the little rascal, and he’s so happy to have us both home at night together that I hate to think I’ll be gone for about seven days starting next weekend. I also need to get my shit together for that trip, too. I think I have my audiobooks downloaded and prepared–Carol Goodman’s The Drowning Tree for the way up, and either a Lisa Unger or another Goodman for my drive back. I think I’m going to take the Tremblay, the Ford sequel, and one of the Koryta as Carson books.

I also dug out my old essay “Recovering Christian” to look over, with an eye towards revision/rewrite and possibly either sharing here or over on Substack (I”m not sure if we’re supposed to still be using Substack or not, but for longer form essays it’s probably better than here). I’ve been thinking a lot about Christianity lately, and how it’s been thoroughly debased and weaponized in this country (just as it was for centuries in Europe) and has become about everything except the teachings and ministry of Jesus Christ. The modern American version of Christianity is undoubtedly the whore of Babylon from Revelations; and false prophets abound in our modern times. See what I mean about my creativity? I saw some “christian” tomfoolery on social media the last few days, and it was enraging. I may not go to church anymore, and I may not consider myself to be an actual Christian, but I swear, how do I know the Bible and their faith so much better than so many so-called Christians?

“Blind faith”, I guess.

And on that note, I am going to get something to eat and start getting ready for my day. Hope you have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later on.

Victory

And wasn’t yesterday’s entry boring as fuck? I should think at this point that it’s pretty clear, Constant Reader, that I don’t utilize this blog the way one is supposed to when one is a writer: as a conduit to convince readers to buy my books. I think I’ve done an excellent job over the years of proving that I, without question, have no idea how to sell books or how to make my work sound appealing enough for people to want to read, let alone buy.

I really suck at promoting myself. But to give myself credit, I never once believed “social media” would sell books, and from everything I’ve been reading lately, I was right. But it can make loyal readers aware you have something new coming out, and since the gay and lesbian bookstores are long gone…yeah, I’ve literally got nothing when it comes to reaching out and finding new readers, or reconnecting with old ones. I tried the newsletter thing way back in the days of my first website, but was always a little shocked whenever I’d send one out and people would ask to be removed…I was always a little, Why did you sign up in the first place? I never simply added people to my newsletter; you literally had to fill out a form to get on the list…and after a little while it was kind of depressing, so I gave up on the newsletter thing. It’s not like I’m that fascinating, anyway.

I do applaud those who do one, though.

It’s Christmas season already–according to some merchants, it has been since September–and of course, I’m a bit of a sucker for the Christmas season. I’m not a sucker for Christmas displays in September, or endless playing of Christmas carols over and over again on the radio or in public spaces; and while I also understand the importance of Christmas to our (retail) economy, I tire very quickly of Christmas commercials on television–my personal favorite the ones where people gift each other CARS for Christmas, because really? I’m not a Christian anymore; I’ve been in recovery for nearly thirty years, but the “reason for the season” has been forgotten by almost everyone else in the clamor for dollars and status and spend spend spend mentality of the holidays. The basic presumption behind Christmas–peace on earth and good will to all men–is a lovely one that I can certainly get behind; but Christmas has not only been commercialized it has also been politicized…because nothing says put the Christ back in Christmas like commercializing and politicizing the holiday that ostensibly celebrates the birth of Jesus. As always, I tire very quickly and easily of hypocrisy; and I tire of all the nonsense Christmas seems to trigger annually.

But I do like Christmas and the mentality behind it. I like the idea of a season to celebrate peace and love amongst all of humanity. I always wanted to write about Christmas; which is incredibly hard to do without giving into what I call ‘cheap sentimentality.’ I wrote a story a long time ago, my own attempt at writing a gay Christmas story because, frankly, there weren’t any that I was aware of, and it of course was terrible, absolutely terrible. It’s very difficult to come up with anything original about Christmas; but there’s also the possibility that the comfort of familiarity is what many enjoy about it. They enjoy watching the same films and television specials, listening to the same music recorded by the same artists, and follow the old traditions that transport them back to when they were children and the world seemed so much less complicated than it does as adults, and they want to give their kids that same comforting holiday experience they remember. I was quite mercenary as a child, and for me, for the longest time, Christmas was about the gifts I was going to get. As I got older, it gradually became more about the gifts I was giving as I began to understand the message more–and the message does seem to get lost all too frequently.

I also greatly appreciate the extra days off from work as well.

But I wanted to write about Christmas, as I said earlier. Early in my career I realized there weren’t many, if any, gay Christmas stories, so I decided to do an anthology of them, Upon a Midnight Clear, which was, I think, released in 2004. (My story, of course, turned out to be a horror tale, “The Snow Queen,” and I used a pseudonym.) I greatly enjoyed doing that anthology, and am still rather proud of it today. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to get when I asked writer friends to write a story for me; but all of the stories were inventive and new takes on Christmas, from a gay perspective.

Donna Andrews’ Meg Langslow series (which Constant Reader knows is one of my favorites) releases a Christmas mystery every year, and the way Andrews manages to turn out a highly original mystery every year centered on Christmas in Caerphilly is absolute genius. She never descends into cheap sentimentality, and yet manages to infuse the books with a healthy dose of the Christmas spirit each time. Caerphilly is one of my happy places; there’s no greater joy than spending some time there every year. I have already mentioned that Andrews kind of inspired me to write a Scotty book set during the Christmas season, and I am probably going to have to do another; the plot for this one was pretty much already set when I decided to have it take place in December, and so it kind of became a Christmas book by default….I will undoubtedly do another one at some point, one that is more centered on Christmas itself rather than just the season. I’d love to play with Christmas tropes and traditions a bit more–especially since Scotty and his parents are pagans.

And on that note, tis back to the spice mines with me. Have a lovely day, all.

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