Tag: Rouse's

You Take My Breath Away

..and I don’t know what to saaaaaaaaaay!

Ah, Rex Smith was a definite looker. I wonder what ever happened to him? I thought he was sexy and hot. I suppose I could find out with a google search, but…it’s a risk. It’s entirely possible he is alive and happy and aged well and in good health and running an animal rescue sanctuary, but there are so many horrible possibilities–and the last thing I need right now is another scandal-ridden death to think about. Like I don’t have enough writing left to do on my plate already? Yeesh. I did finish reading Ode to Billy Joe yesterday (and I have thoughts), and am waiting to pick up my copy of Farrah Rochon’s Bemused (the story of the Muses from Disney’s Hercules–how fun does that sound?) before I start reading anything else. I had narrowed the next read down to either Alex Segura, Kellye Garrett, Amina Akhtar, or Lev Rosen, as I am due for a crime novel, but I just can’t wait to read Bemused and I don’t want it to go into the pile and languish–it’s what happens when I don’t read something right away, then something else I want to read right away comes out before I get to the first one, and…then one day you have a houseful of books you’ve not read as you started donated all the ones you have, and…it’s absolutely terrifying to realize that you have a house full of books and stacked everywhere that you haven’t read.

I did make it to the gym and it wasn’t bad. I added another set to the exercise routine, and once finished drove over to the CBD Rouse’s to make some groceries to get me through the week. I got our first cream cheese filled King cake as well (they were out on Twelfth Night when I bought our first, to much gnashing of my own teeth and rending of garments), which is excellent; I am, in fact, having a piece now with my coffee and it is most pleasing in our eyes. I felt really good after the gym–although my shoulder popped later on in the afternoon, which I am still getting used to; it feels like when you have a joint in your finger that needs to be popped/cracked? That’s what my left shoulder does now since the surgery, but the more I use it for exercise the better it’s supposed to get. It’s also a bit painful before it pops, too. But at least it pops now; when I was on my self-inflicted gym sabbatical since last April it just felt like it needed to be popped but never would, so it was kind of uncomfortable. Probably scar tissue that needs to be worked out or something gross like that.

It also rained and was dreary all day, too. Definitely feels like gumbo weather around here, you know? It’s still raining, in fact. Maybe that’s why I slept so well last night? I did, and in fact had no problem getting up this morning. I am alive and alert and am still working on my first cup of coffee (which also is quite tasty). We finished watching Disclaimer last night; it was terrific and the twist was also pretty excellent. I won’t say anything more because obviously spoilers would be involved, but I have some thoughts! I did enjoy it, loved the slow burn and build, and the way the suspense just kept amping up and getting more and more intense as the situation worsened. Not sure what we’ll be picking up next, probably the second season of something recently released, most likely–either The Rig or Sex Lives of College Girls, which we both enjoyed.

There’s also a three day weekend coming up, so a week from today I’ll be sleeping in and trying to avoid Sparky’s urgent insistence to get me up to feed him. That will be lovely, albeit a bit disruptive to my schedule, but we don’t get another paid day off after that until Fat Tuesday–like Carnival is not disruptive–and I can settle back into my usual routine. I’m glad I wrote this weekend, and plan to do more this week (I have deadlines; no choice but to write) but am very glad that I am enjoying myself writing again and not having to force–well, most of the words out–has also been a pleasure. I feel like I can settle into my life again, and as long as the center holds (not for long, most likely) I can get into a nice routine of writing, reading, and relaxing. My avoidance of the legacy media continues, and true be told, the peace of mind from taking in their non-stop stupidity and breathless reporting on everything the once and future traitor says, does, or tweets while ignoring what he is actually doing. I even tire of my progressive influencers, too–their headlines are clickbait all too often, and people need to stop posting those “MAGA regret” videos that actually aren’t compilations of actual MAGAs regretting their votes, but progressive influencers talking about MAGA regrets–which is absolutely one thousand percent not the same fucking thing. While it’s a lovely liberal fantasy, there is absolutely no level of cognitive dissonance too striking for their brains to not be able to absorb and twist to fit their beliefs and hideous “values.” I personally am looking to an end to all school shootings once the Ten Commandments are posted in every classroom–especially thou shalt not commit adultery.

I’d love to hear a teacher explain to a seven-year-old what precisely adultery is…

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines where I hope to have a great day. Hope you do, too, Constant Reader!

You’ll See

And somehow, here we are at Thursday again. It is kind of annoying and irritating how quickly time is slipping through my fingers; but then this was a short work week because I was off on Monday. I’ve felt a bit out of sorts and off-balance this week, which I think is because of the Malice come-down plus knowing that I have to go to Alabama this weekend. It’s hard for me to focus and get settled with that journey ahead of me, and while I am not necessarily dreading it, I also know it’s going to be emotionally draining and exhausting so there’s some trepidation, to be sure. It’s also Mother’s Day the next weekend, so that’s going to probably be a bit rough (note to self: text your sister). Yay?

But in cool news, the anthology This Fresh Hell now has a release date of June and can be ordered here: https://improbablepress.com/products/this-fresh-hell

(Apologies, for some reason I can’t substitute text for links anymore. Fucking updates.)

Anyway, this anthology has my story “Solace in a Dying Hour” in it, and this is a story I am really proud of. It’s one where I went to rural Louisiana/bayou country yet again, which also meant navigating stereotypes, tropes, and clichés. I had originally intended to write a story about the grunch (a mythical creature sighted occasionally out in old New Orleans East, but I think his old stomping grounds now are neighborhoods) but in looking up information about that particular Louisiana legend I stumbled over a bunch more that I’d never heard of, and one in particular–le feu follet–really struck my fancy. These are fairy lights seen out in the swamp or along a bayou, kind of like a will-o’-the-wisp. Usually no larger than a candle flame, these lights have been said to be many things, but the definition I went with–the souls of the unshriven dead, come to claim other souls–worked for what I was trying to do, and the more I thought about it, the more the story began to come together in my mind. I think it’s a lovely piece of writing, frankly, and it really must be if I am going to say it publicly. It turned out exactly the way I wanted it to, and I had some expert editorial help from Katya de Becerra and Narrelle M. Harris (who worked with me on my Sherlock story; I really love working with Narrelle) that made it even better than I thought it could be while still remaining what I wanted the story to be; their input was invaluable. Good editors, y’all, are worth their weight in gold. As you can imagine, I am very excited about the story and the anthology.

I slept decently last night; I was again very tired when I got home. It took me an hour because of traffic–I stopped at the Rouses’s in the CBD on the way home, but was only there for fifteen minutes. I left the office at straight-up four thirty and got home after five thirty. It was the worst I’ve seen traffic in the CBD since before the pandemic. Not sure what there was about yesterday that brought horrendous pre-pandemic traffic back to New Orleans, but here we are, right? Heavy sigh. Tonight I am going to swing uptown on my way home to get the mail, so hopefully Claiborne traffic won’t be hellish tonight. And tomorrow is my work-at-homeday, before getting up Saturday and driving north. It was odd; yesterday morning on the way to work the traffic was also heavy. It’s been a hot minute, but I always used to drive here before the pandemic at off times so I never had to deal with traffic very much. I am beginning to think my working in the evenings is a thing of the past I may never see again, doomed to a life of getting up at six a.m. Monday thru Thursday for the rest of my working life. That sounds incredibly tiresome, doesn’t it? But I imagine I’ll be tired all of next week, too, and won’t get caught up on rest until the following weekend. Not loving this, for sure.

But in other weird developments, I discovered that Tuscaloosa–where I will be turning north to head to the home country–has WHATABURGER. It is almost sad how excited finding that out made me; I am definitely scheduling my trip to stop there for lunch on my way up. How cool is that? Usually when I drive north I tend to stop at Hardee’s, since we don’t have them in New Orleans and they’re basically Carl’s Jr, which I loved when I lived in California (and yes, I know the family that owns them is homophobic right-wing trash) so I always see that as a bit of a ‘treat’ for me when I go on long drives. I do love fast food hamburgers, although the old classics (McDonalds, Burger King, and Wendy’s) all are kind of disgusting to me now. Give me Whataburger, Five Guys, or Sonic. (I am starting to not like Hardee’s; the last few times it was just kind of meh)

Fascinating stuff, am I right?

What can I say? I’m a little bleary this morning, so maybe it’s best to head into the spice mines and be done with it. Talk to you tomorrow, Constant Reader!