Tag: Scotty

Go Now

Ah, Sunday morning and the last day of relaxation before I return to work tomorrow, and of course next weekend I am driving up to Kentucky. That’ll be nice, if exhausting–I never sleep enough when I travel–but I’ll get to see my sister and spend time with Dad, which is always nice. I’ll get to listen to books in the car, and read some while I am up there. I doubt I’ll write anything; or even edit much. I should just accept that in advance since it never happens, and I’ll have my journal with me and the laptop if the urge should strike. That should be enough, don’t you think? I know I certainly do.

Yesterday was kind of a flat day. I ran my errands and came home to watch football games, and was pretty tired. I did end up getting some chores done around watching games, but not much of anything. I did read some, too, between games. About the best game of the day was Texas-Vanderbilt; Alabama seems to have righted their ship at last, Auburn finally notched a win, and LSU lost last night at Texas A&M. They played great in the first half and then just crumbled in the second, and it was mostly the offense and the kicking team that cost the Tigers the game. But good for you, Aggies–your rivalry renewal game with Texas over Thanksgiving just became super-important. We don’t play again until November 9th, when Alabama comes to Baton Rouge, and we’ll see how and if the ship gets righted that night. I can’t remember the last time the two played where both had two losses coming into the game…I cooked out last night and that turned out well, and I did get some things done yesterday. There’s a few dishes in the sink and of course, the floors…but mostly today I think I am going to focus on writing and reading the most. I want to work on the Scotty Bible today and I want to revisit the manuscript completely, and of course there are short stories and essays to be worked on, as always. So, once I finish this I’m going to go read for a while with my coffee, and then get cleaned up and get to work on writing. Exciting!

I do want to start the week with the apartment cleaned, for one thing.

Yesterday I was thinking–during the dull Alabama-Missouri game–about projects I want to work on and the things I want to get done over the course of the next year, until 2026. It’s an ambitious slate, to be sure, and does require me to actually focus and work rather than blow everything off and spent time with Sparky, who gets sweeter and sweeter every day. He’s finally started cuddling and sleeping with us downstairs while we watch television–he’ll sleep on Paul before moving over to me in the chair–and of course, every morning he gets into bed with me (because he’s hungry) and is kind of a snooze button/alarm that I much prefer to the clanging of the actual one. I need to research hurricanes, too, because I am writing about one, so it doesn’t hurt to actually research and find out a basic overview of them so I can write about it in the book. I do think this Scotty could easily turn out to be the best of the bunch, frankly. Which is a nice feeling to have, I don’t remember feeling that way with the last two, but at the same time I also wrote the last two maybe five years apart? That’s kind of crazy, because I really should at most space them a year and a half apart, which I’ve not done in well over a decade. Kind of nuts, isn’t it? I’d say so. That’s no way to write a series, is it? I don’t know. I probably don’t care all that much, either. I’ve never been terribly smart about my writing career, mainly because my primary driver is the writing itself. I love writing, even when I complain about it, but it’s my primary source of joy in this life.

This week I have a doctor’s appointment on Thursday, with a podiatrist to see about my pronating feet and what is up with the pain in my big toes. It’s not always and it’s not bad enough to make me limp, but it is noticeable. I also noticed when I was pushing the cart around the grocery store yesterday that my hips were sore and hurting, which means time for a new pair of shoes. I should probably get that checked out as well, but it is most likely a side effect from my feet and their pronation. It wouldn’t surprise me if I’d need to have them (the hips, not my feet) replaced at some point over the next five years or so. My new glasses should come in as well, which will be great. I’m hoping they come in before I leave for Kentucky, because I got transition lenses because bright light and glare have become really painful for me, and that will help me on the drive up. I also think I am going to be brave and go up a different way, skipping Chattanooga by going north on I-65 at Birmingham to go through Nashville instead. That’s a better route for me; there’s a lot more places to eat and get gas between Birmingham and Nashville than there are between Birmingham and Chattanooga. I can always come back the normal way–I do want to get a look at the rest stops on 75 for a short story that I think I’ve finally figured out–which never seems to be as bad as going, you know?

And on that note, I need to get another cup of coffee and have breakfast and get cleaned up this morning so I can have a good, productive day. I hope you have a marvelous Sunday, too, Constant Reader, and I’ll chat with you again probably a little later.

Ferry Cross the Mersey

Thursday and I am off for doctors’ appointments today. I got to sleep a little later this morning (other than getting up to give Sparky breakfast, after which I went back to bed happily for a little more time), and I can leisurely take my time going from appointment to appointment. The first is in Metairie–eyes and new glasses–and then I get to go to a dermatologist for the first time in about fifteen or so years. I’ve been using the same stuff to try to control my eczema (or psoriasis, I’m not sure which is the one I have because I’ve been told both at different times)1, and I want to primarily see if there’s another way to treat/control it. After I am done with those things, I’ll run my errands and then come home to read, write, and clean. I work at home again tomorrow morning, and have some on-line trainings to get through before I am free for the weekend again. Huzzah!

I was tired when I got home last night, but I did work on a short story for a bit before becoming a Sparky bed. There’s plenty of stuff to keep me occupied around here this morning–including a sink full of dishes–and I have things that I want to do once the appointments are over. Tomorrow is my remote day (which I’ve always called “work-at-home” day, but this is the terminology my employer uses, so I should use it as well), which is nice and I have a lot of on-line trainings to get done before the end of the month…can’t really believe it’s almost November already, can you? I also need to get back to work on the book. I signed the contract for Hurricane Season Hustle last night, so the book is absolutely going to happen. The release date will be in the fall, but I’m not sure of the exact date at the moment.

We finished watching season 3 of American Horror Stories last night, and while the final episodes weren’t really my favorites (although I did like the final one of the season), I’ve had to revise my theory that the show’s not good overall. There was surprisingly little gay content (there was a gay episode that was delightfully twisty and creepy from whence it began), which was disappointing–and less gratuitous sexy male bodies than I would ordinarily expect from a Ryan Murphy show for sure. The show itself is nothing terribly new, just a modern reboot of The Twilight Zone or Tales from the Crypt–both being shows I loved, I must point out–so some episodes are better than others, but the lesser ones are entertaining enough, and the twisty endings are surprising in many cases. I do love a good plot twist–Ira Levin was such a master of these, as was Daphne du Maurier; which is partly why I love them both so much. I really do need to find my copy of Rosemary’s Baby…

It’s weird to be almost finished with October, isn’t it? Of course, the beginning of the year now seems like it was a million years ago, and I don’t really remember much of Carnival this year. I didn’t have to go out of town during it this year, and probably won’t next year, either. I kind of want to enjoy parade season this year, in all honesty. We haven’t really been able to enjoy ourselves for several years during Carnival now, and it would be nice to get back into the spirit of the entire thing again, rather than simply thinking of it as a nuisance. I mean, I always thought it was a nuisance before the first parades started rolling, but I always got back into it the further into the parades we got. These last three or four years? Not so much, so I hope this year will be different.

We can but hope. I don’t think I will be as exhausted as I was the last few years, either.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines and have some breakfast. Not much exciting to write about this morning, was there? My apologies. I hope to be more entertaining at some point in the future. Until then, adieu!

  1. Next week I get to see the podiatrist to see if I have arthritis in my toes. ↩︎

Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag

Well, yesterday wasn’t so bad, really. The office didn’t burn down in my absence (didn’t think it would) and there was no mess for me to clean up anywhere, so that was nice. I also felt good for most of the day; I had energy and didn’t feel sleepy in the least. I managed to come home from work and get the thing done that needed to be done for today; I also revised and rewrote that short story before discovering the deadline is actually October 20th, so I have time to go over it once again before turning it in for the perusal of the editors. It’s a reach to meet their theme, but nothing ventured and all that. I won’t be disappointed too much if they turn me down. I also have another story to write by the end of the month, and I am not sure which one I have on hand to use for it. Something to look into for this weekend, methinks. And I need to get back to work on Scotty. Heavy sigh.

But I never felt any stress about the deadlines, and I managed to get both things worked on, which I am quite pleased with myself about, frankly. I am rather pleased with the new version of the story; it really does need to be revised one more time (not the least of which is that it’s too long; I always think 5k when writing a story but the CFS for this is 4k max, so some pruning and tightening is in order. I also managed to sleep really well again last night and feel great this morning. I wasn’t tired when I got home, either. After I got through with working, I happily collapsed into my easy chair and caught up on the news. I do think this approach to this year’s election–staying calm and blocking the legacy media1–is the right way to go. I have felt a lot less stressed about everything without losing my shit at the insanity of said legacy media’s insane bias. It doesn’t mean that I’m not worried about the outcome–I am, very much so–but the weight of it all doesn’t need to rest on my shoulders. Thank God for anxiety medications, and the clear-headedness those medications give me.

Today’s goal is to figure out what short story to use for this other call for submissions that is due at the end of the month. I literally have no clue, off the top of my head, and so I am going to have to go through the files and figure out which one I can either finish or revise. A tough problem to have, don’t you think? I kind of want to work on short stories at the moment, which has everything to do with revising one yesterday. Once the dam breaks, and all that stuff and nonsense. I’m just delighted to be writing again, and even more delighted that I am prioritizing my work for once (and from now on). I’ll still do the occasional volunteer thing now and again, but nothing that requires a lengthy commitment or has any urgency; I’ve sacrificed my mental health and my writing for far too long on things that ultimately had no benefit for me other than satisfaction–and sometimes I never even got that, so it’s time for someone else to do whatever it was I thought I was accomplishing. I also have little to no interest in my legacy. I am always amused a bit when I hear writers talk about things like that. For one thing, that’s not for me to decide. Did I make a contribution to American letters? The mystery genre? Queer writing? Most likely not; I am not going to be studied in future college lit courses–genre, for one; gay for the other–and once I’m gone–or stop producing work, I’ll be forgotten, and I am fine with that. The books will all float around on the Internet for years after my death so they are there for the finding. Maybe in a hundred years some scholar will stumble over my work and make a case for me as one of the unsung heroes of crime fiction, but I rather doubt it. In either case, I won’t be here to see it, so why even worry about it? Talk about a waste of energy!

We’re having a cold spell–a front for a few days–where the highs will be in the sixties and the lows in the fifties. It’s fifty-nine right now, brisk and crisp; it will definitely help me sleep and will definitely help bring the power bill down. We resist turning on the heat until it’s actually in the fifties inside, and the heat is far cheaper than air conditioning. I also need to run errands after work today, and then once I am home I need to progress on the apartment before settling into my chair for the evening. I’ve also got to figure out my doctor’s appointments and try to reschedule them all for the same day–or at least to have as many on the same day as possible. Sigh. This is what we call gumbo weather; when you spend the morning in the kitchen making a nice big pot of it–the cooking of it also keeps you warm, and it certainly does warm you up on the inside when you eat it. If the weather holds through the weekend I’ll probably make some kind of shrimp dish–shrimp creole or shrimp scampi or something like that. I also like making potato leek soup and white bean chicken chili (but that will require a Costco trip at some point). I do love the fall here in Louisiana…and it also looks like the two systems the Hurricane Center is monitoring aren’t going to develop into anything for a brief respite.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; one never really knows for certain, does one?

  1. They have been committing journalistic malpractice since at least 2015, if not longer. ↩︎

That Song Is Driving Me Crazy

Friday, and after I get my work at home duties finished, it’s time to head up to Alabama. It’ll be nice seeing Dad again, and I will be listening to Paul Tremblay on my way to and fro; Survivor Song, in case you were wondering. I’ve almost finished all of his canon, which means the last book will be saved until his next new one drops, so I won’t be out of his work to read (I know, it’s silly to do this, and maybe I’ll finally stop holding books in reserve because I don’t want to be out of that author’s work to look forward to *coughs* Daphne du Maurier *cough* Mary Stewart *cough* Shirley Jackson *cough*)1. I think I am going to have some down time while up there, so I can possibly get some reading of the new Gabino done as well. (Dad is doing some things with the other survivors from his graduating class2.) I did wind up sleeping in a little later than I intended, but I was very worn out by the time I ran my errands and got home from everything. I relaxed last night once I was home–Paul was at an event and didn’t get home until later (we watched this week’s Agatha All Along and the season debut of Abbott Elementary)–with Sparky (who was a demon cat for a lot longer than usual) and got caught up on the news while resting and waiting for Paul to get home. I feel a bit more rested this morning, but I have to drive for between five and six hours tonight, so I worry that I’ll be super tired when I get there tonight. We’re having a cold spell (for us) and the temperatures are very fall for us. Next week it’s going to be in the fifties at night, with highs in the seventies during the day. Woo-hoo! The season of sweat appears to be behind us at long last.

I saw hints and rumors that the same area in the western Caribbean that spawned both Helene and Milton might be looking to hatch up another one of these accelerated storms that will follow the same approximate path, which is horrifying; Nadine will be the name3. What a horrible season–and I also can’t help but remember former patterns, in which New Orleans and Louisiana got slammed pretty hard the year after Florida got hit four times in one year. (I always look for patterns, because on a deep level I find patterns very soothing)

I did do some work on writing last night; I started looking through the new Scotty to see where I was already wrong on things (I have always based his grandparents’ home in the Garden District on one specific house; I was writing it from memory, but in reviewing a lot of the photos I took of the house at one point, I saw my memory had been faulty and incorrect. I need to have some things wrong, of course, so people won’t know the actual house (or so the owners can’t sue me for having people murdered on their property), but it cleared up some confusion in my brain about what I was writing, and so I will need to go in and fix that. I think that’s my project for the next week; revising and correcting the chapters I already have finished, while also preparing a cast list and an outline as I go. I also have to come up with a synopsis and cover text and marketing copy for it; so those are all things I can work on over the next week. I also have to finish revising that short story for the anthology whose deadline is the 15th; I think I know how to really make the story finally work after all these years…and if they don’t take it, I can put the revised version in my new collection. I love that for me, and I also figured out what story I am going to write for another anthology I’ve been asked to contribute something to; and I also want to write something for another anthology whose due date is November 1–so I’d best get cracking on that, don’t you think?

I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed and stretched pretty far this past week–lots of things to do, more pressure at the day job (and it’s temporary, Mary, so get over yourself), a messy home, a trip to take and another to plan, and of course my own pressures from deadlines and writing. That’s not even taking into consideration the existential crisis facing us in this upcoming election–blocking and avoiding all legacy media has been wonderful; their corrupt betrayal of the American public since 2015 (if not sooner; I am pretty sure they didn’t report on Obama fairly, either) has rendered them forever meaningless in my eyes. I am not nearly as stressed about any of this as I usually am. I am sure that’s partly the generalized anxiety disorder being medicated properly, and the other was a conscious decision. The deletion of Twitter has been probably the best thing I’ve done for my mental health since deciding last year to get the right medications for that (properly diagnosed at sixty-two at long last). It has freed up so much time–I thought of myself as a casual Twitter user, but now that I no longer have that wretched app, I am seeing that I used it a lot more than I ever thought, so breaking that wretched addiction and walking away from it for good was incredibly wise. Paul isn’t on social media at all, and he is much happier without it than I was with it all this time.

But now that I’ve had a good night’s sleep and got some extra, I am feeling good and like I can handle everything. I am not going into the office on Monday–I have some appointments so took the day off–so I am going to be able to get the house worked on some and run some necessary errands on that day to prep for the week. I’m going back to Kentucky later this month for a longer visit, but I’ve not really figured that out just yet, either.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines so I can get my work done and head north. Have a great Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow–and if not, definitely Sunday after I get back to New Orleans.

  1. There are also a couple of Agatha Christies I’ve not read–Death in the Air and Murder in Three Acts. ↩︎
  2. Yes, I can hear how grim that sounds once I started typing it out, but it’s accurate. How else to say it simply? They all graduated sixty-three years ago (and yes, I was born three months after my parents graduated), so they are all at least eighty-one–and much as modern medicine has extended longevity, they are also the last generation that was encouraged to smoke, along with all the other unhealthy ways they loved. Imagine cooking with lard, for one. ↩︎
  3. IMPORTANT CORRECTION: It was fake news. There’s nothing there right now, but it’s possible and any potential path of something that doesn’t exist is obviously incorrect. Sorry for including this, but I did say it was a rumor. ↩︎

I’m A Ramblin’ Man

And here we are, heading back into a Monday and a brand new work week. My supervisor is currently enjoying herself in London for the next two weeks, which makes me the go-to guy for all things testing related and for my program. It may be stressful and exhausting, or it could be totally smooth sailing. I’m also meeting Dad this weekend in Alabama. I’ll have to pick out a horror novel to listen to in the car….I suppose I could continue listening to the podcast I’m thoroughly enjoying, My Dad Wrote a Porno, but probably will go with a book. I’m going to take a week off later in the month and go up to Kentucky–which means more books to listen to.

It was, in some ways, a rejuvenating kind of weekend; I rested a lot Friday evening and Saturday, and as such, felt good yesterday. It was also a lovely day in New Orleans; I walked around the neighborhood to take pictures of the aftermath of a fire the other night just past the corner of Magazine and Hastings1 (she was renting one of the places for Mardi Gras, and had to find another place, obviously), then walked back home, got in the car because I needed gas, and after fueling her up I went to the Fresh Market. Paul was working with his trainer, and once he got back from the gym we watched two movies–The Fall Guy, which we really enjoyed and was a rather fun, charming movie (you can never go wrong with Emily Blunt, and Ryan Gosling was goofily adorable the way he always is) that had a truly terrific supporting cast as well, including Hannah Waddingham, and a true crime documentary that wasn’t good. I slept really well last night, too, and feel pretty good already this morning. I didn’t do much work on the book this weekend, but I did finish marking up the Scotty books, so that’s done. I also had another idea about structure with this book, which is going to be tricky from hereon out to pull off, but I think I can do it, and that’s a very good thing. I also managed to finally finish my blog entry review of Alison Gaylin’s We Are Watching, but you should have know that already if you stop by regularly. I also didn’t read much this weekend, either; it was more about recovery and rest this past weekend than anything else.

I am, by the way, loving the weather. It’s been so beautiful lately, other than the soggy mess that was Friday, which kicked my sinuses into gear, which was partly why I didn’t get anything done. I need to be more careful of my time, though. I’ve gotten so used to spending the weekend recovering from the week and losing track of time (because I feel like I have so much of it every week when Friday rolls around), so should probably start trying to structure the weekends more so I can get things done. I’d forgotten that when you have more free time you need to structure it a little better–but it’s kind of fun just doing what I want when I want to, I must say. I have to get used to this free time thing, and what a horrible problem for me to have, right? There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious, after all–as long as you don’t let your failure to meet goals (from being lazy and having too much free time) affect your self-worth and stop belittling/demeaning myself. I’ve done pretty well for myself as a writer, overall, and considering I did it all mostly on my own–that’s saying something.

I think one of the most important things for me going forward is to cure myself of Imposter Syndrome; I know I’ve talked about how I was raised and how I was taught to be about work–keep your ego out of it2 and let others see the work you do and let them appreciate it. The problem is people never like to let a writer know they enjoyed something–but they do know how to register an outraged opinion. I do the best I can with everything I write, and if I am a better writer than I was twenty-five years ago, good. (I must confess, revisiting Scotty to do the Bible was a pleasant surprise, as the books are actually good.) I also know that there’s nothing I can’t do or achieve if I set my mind to it and plan and stick to it. I did think a lot about writing this weekend–and what are the things I want to write and do over the next few years. It’s so lovely being clear-headed, seriously–you have no idea. The fog is clearing! I feel like GREG again for the first time in nearly a decade. And I’m kind of excited about it, if that makes sense? For example, I saw a news story the other day that gave me not only an insight but a clue to how to fix “Festival of the Redeemer”; that will be fun to rewrite and fix. I also had some thoughts and ideas for Never Kiss a Stranger, Muscles, Chlorine, and the next Scotty–French Quarter Flambeaux, another Mardi Gras novel. I had hoped to revise a short story for a submission call that’s due on the 15th, but I don’t think I’ll have the time to get something ready for it. I do have a story that might fit and needs resolution in a revision, though. There’s still time, of course, but I am not writing as fast as I used to be able to do. Maybe once the muscles get more warmed up? One never knows, does one?

I just saw the Milton forecast, which has me worried and concerned for my central Florida peeps. Take care and be safe, everyone!

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day–may be back later!

  1. If you’re a local and don’t know where Hastings is, you’re not alone. I didn’t, either, until she stayed there on a visit sometime in the last few years. It’s one of those little streets in the lower Garden District that only exist for a block or so. It also joins into the intersection at Magazine and Felicity; there are two lanes that veer off to the right to stay on Magazine, and if you veer left you can go down the one block of Hastings. It creates a pie-shaped block that comes to a point at the intersection, and there’s a small park there, and Gris-Gris restaurant is on both Hastings on one side and Magazine on the other. ↩︎
  2. I have a very strong and powerful ego, don’t ever be fooled into thinking I don’t. Knowing how bad it can be is why I go to such an opposite extreme; I don’t like egomaniacal authors who think everything they write is deathless prose that will live for a thousand years–um, you ain’t Homer, dude. ↩︎

I Overlooked an Orchid

Wednesday and we’ve almost made it over the hump preparatory to sliding into the weekend. I was fatigued last night after I got home from work, so didn’t do a whole lot of anything. I picked up my new desk chair from Office Depot, than got really irritated trying to assemble it and gave up for the night. (I also realized I didn’t take my medications yesterday morning when I found them in my backpack, because of course I forgot to take them.) It’s also really amazing that I can tell that I haven’t taken anxiety medication. I didn’t want to watch the debate last night because I despise the Couchfucker so much I can’t even stand the sound of his voice. It’s been nice shielding myself from the election and all the insanity, dabbling in whenever I feel I can stand it (and I never can, for very long; can we sue the legacy media for malpractice?). How anxious and stressed about the election would I be were I not on these marvelous new medications? I don’t even want to think about it, honestly. Paul didn’t get home until after I went to bed–board meeting–and so I didn’t do a lot of anything last night other than play with Sparky and fall asleep in my easy chair–which was interesting, because I woke up several times during the night but feel strangely rested this morning? My new shoes will arrive tomorrow, and some other things I ordered will be arriving over the next few days (including the new Lev Rosen!!!) Such an exciting life, isn’t it?

But tonight when I get home from work I hope to get going on the next chapter of the Scotty, and maybe start marking up those last two Scotty books for the Bible. I’m almost done with it; three more books to add to it, and then I just need to do the synopses of each book and it’ll be finished. I want to release a Scotty every year until the series runs out of steam; I know there are going to be at least two more beyond this one.

The dockworkers in New Orleans are part of the bigger strike. When I was driving home from work the other night and stopped at the grocery store, on my way home I had to drive past their headquarters (corner of Louisiana and Tchoupitoulas) and they were out in force; the street was clogged with parked cars and dockworkers walking to the building. Sigh. Prepare for the cost of bananas and coffee to skyrocket. New Orleans used to be the country’s biggest port; 60% of imports and exports came through the port of New Orleans. It’s not that huge of a port in the overall scheme of things now, but it’s still an important one, which is why New Orleans has to exist. Losing New Orleans to a hurricane and not rebuilding would close the entire Mississippi River waterways to shipping. New Orleans is the city that has to be. I don’t know why that’s so hard for people to understand, but I for one will never forget nor forgive the Republican Party for trying so hard to not help the city rebuild after Katrina–or some of the things the trash had to say, including the only Speaker of the House to go to jail for raping children, Dennis Hastert.1

I do feel pretty good this morning; surprisingly, given the off-and-on sleep I had last night. The one nice thing about it was I did discover that Sparky does indeed sleep at the foot of the bed, down near our feet and in between mine and Paul’s. That’s also the spot on the bed where he sleeps if he gets in the bed during the daytime, so I have to assume that, in his kitty brain, is his spot. He does have his own peculiarities, as do all cats, and he certainly loves to ride on my shoulders. Just mine–not Paul’s.

So, tonight I hope to have energy when I get home. I am going to run by the post office on the way home tonight–and once I get home, I need to do a load of laundry and another sink full of dishes, and hopefully write for a bit and/or read; we also have some shows to catch up on, and I believe a new Agatha All Along drops today? I also should do some picking up and cleaning around the house, too–the old “let it go until the weekend” mentality needs to be broken once and for all. I’m usually not tired when I get home from work–yesterday was an outlier–and so I need to play with Sparky a little bit but he needs to wait for cuddle time until I have gotten some things done. Heavy sigh. I also have to go out to Metairie Saturday morning for an eye appointment; wish me luck, and I’ll probably hit a fast food drive thru on my way home.

Yikes, what a bore I am today! And that’s a lovely segue into heading into the spice mines for the rest of the day. May your day be special and bright, Constant Reader., and I’ll be back with another exciting dose of Gregalicious at some point!

  1. Never forget, they were garbage LONG before Trump. He’s simply the end result of their rotted souls and desire for power at any cost–and with our short attention span as a country, it’s easy to bemoan Trump and MAGA as the “decline” of the GOP, but the rise of a “populist” Fascist was the inevitable result of everything they started with Ronald Reagan in the 1980s. They were the people who laughed about AIDS killing the right people, so why should we fund research or a cure or a preventative? Let them die, let them die, let them die! If the only candidates to vote for were Republicans, I wouldn’t vote. ↩︎

No Charge

Good morning, Constant Reader! Hope this Tuesday morning finds you alive and well and alert and happy to get going on your day.

It rained again last night, a marvelous soaking downpour that was so loud I even could hear it without my hearing aids in. It was a nice day back at work yesterday, too–I wasn’t all that tired when I got home, which was lovely. I didn’t have to run any errands last night, so I was able to come straight home and write for a while. I managed 1400 painful words, but again–transition chapter, and I always have trouble with those, so nothing to see there, really. I felt good writing though, even if it was a struggle, and that means I am really back at it again. I’m just so grateful that I haven’t lost that ability. I think it’s realistic for me to stop fearing that will happen. It’s not likely at this point. I am writing my forty-third (I think) novel, and if the writing thing didn’t dry up after some of the things we’ve been through here ever since my first book was published, as long as my brain functions it shouldn’t be a problem. Ah, the loss of anxiety is a really lovely thing.

We watched the first episode of Fallout last night; I was reminded of it during the Emmys the other night. I’d not heard a lot about it, so we gave it a try. It’s dystopian, of course (I’ve clearly had that on the mind for a while lately), and the point is that just over two hundred years after a nuclear war essentially altered the world completely. There are people who live and have a civilization in huge underground bunkers, where an below-the-surface civilization has taken hold, and the underground dwellers are afraid of the surface and what has changed in the centuries since the war; there’s also some kind of discord between surface and below surface dwellers. The show seems to focus on three characters; a young woman who lives below ground and ventures out to find her kidnapped father; a soldier in a surface military; and the bad guy–a ghoul who is dug up from his grave by some criminals who want him to help them do bad things which aren’t specified. It was well-produced, and very well put together; the attention to details was greatly appreciated and helped make it seem fairly realistic. It reminded me a lot of The 100, only in reverse, with the survivors underground instead of in space…but there are tropes in this genre, and so there are always going to be similarities between dystopian shows/movies. I’m not sure if we’ll continue watching, but it wasn’t terrible. I try not to judge shows based on the first episode, as first episodes are often working too hard on setting up the show and the characters and their relationships to each other, and this show also has to world-build, so we’ll probably give it another go before crossing it off entirely.

Likewise, we started watching the new gay show, English Teacher, and while the first episode was fine–a little preachy, a little soap-boxish–the second episode really took off, and we were howling with laughter. Highly, highly recommend, if for no other reason than the Trixie Mattel guest spot! Looking forward to watching more of this show, for sure for sure. (And it’s so nice to see gay male lead characters on television…so a refreshing change from the past.)

I feel pretty good this morning, honestly, and it’s a very nice feeling. I am feeling more in control of things these past few months; at least it’s better than the treading water trick I’ve been doing over the last few years or so. I was also thinking about the Scotty series last night, as I am working on Book Ten (which is a truly scary thought; have I really written that many books in a series?), and wondered if it’s time to let him go? I still have ideas for more Scotty books, mind you, and I think of titles all the time (I thought up one this morning: Pearl River Peril), but going through the Scotty Bible and pulling that all together made me start thinking about potentially winding the whole thing down. It’s not the longest running series with a gay male lead by any means; I think Mark Zubro’s series have vastly more volumes in them than I have in mine, but I’m proud of the accomplishment and the haphazard, meandering way the series developed over time. Alas, that also led to continuity errors, but rather than making me cringe I just kind of laugh at my laziness. Before the new meds, this would have created a spiral of a professional wouldn’t have made those mistakes and all those people who discouraged you from pursuing writing were correct and….yeah. Don’t miss those episodes any more, and I also like being able to look at my writing and my career with the proper distance I could never have achieved on the old medication protocol.

Better living through chemistry is, indeed, a thing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I may be back later, and I may not. One can never be certain with me!

I Can Help

Friday after the storm and I am heading into the office in a bit to see what is the situation with our testing supplies, which have to be in controlled temperatures. The exciting day job responsibilities of a Gregalicious. These interrupted weeks are always a bit difficult to re-acclimate back from, especially these sudden and unexpected ones; the ones you plan for are disruptive enough. But I have to go in on a Friday after being home for two days, to then be home again for another two days, and then go back to normal, whatever that may be now. My mind and body clock are sufficiently scrambled now, and it may not be easy getting back into the old routine again–which may not be a bad thing, if I can perhaps establish a new one out of this chaos?

Always a plus!

We finished watching The Perfect Couple, which really didn’t stick the landing, but otherwise was a lot of fun to watch. I imagine the book was probably better. Yesterday was an odd day; it’s weird to have a hurricane day (let alone two in a row) and not have to worry about working at home and so forth; it was like having a weekend in the middle of the week and now I have a day to go into the office when I usually don’t before the weekend, which is very odd. I also started reading Jordan Harper’s Everybody Knows, which is phenomenal, and I also collected all the marked information from Who Dat Whodunnit for the Scotty Bible. The next book up is Bourbon Street Blues, and what’s interesting is catching the continuity errors I’ve made over the years, which points out the need for the Scotty Bible, which I should have done after the first three when I went back to write the fourth.

The Internet is out this morning–it survived the storm, but a day later goes down? Excellent service, Cox. Fortunately I have an iPhone hotspot so I can check my emails and everything before I head into the office. The email communiqué yesterday afternoon about the office being open this morning mentioned that we’d be using generator power if Entergy was still down; which means limited access to the Internet and so forth. It could make for an interesting day, but I kind of think Entergy might have the power back on across the city by now? There are, per the outage map, still some parts of the city that are without power, but most people have it. It does look like the office is still down, but there was so little red on the outage map I doubt it will be out for much longer.

The aftermath of a hurricane–no matter the size, whether’s it’s a tropical depression or a Category –always feels like awakening from a disorienting dream. The release of tension–because no matter how calm you feel, you’re super tense waiting for the unknown–and once the storm is past, you just kind of let all the internal pressure out and feel exhausted. I didn’t work on cleaning up the house much; I have a sink full of dishes to do and bed linens to launder today, and I should probably stop on the way home to get something to make for dinner, as there is very little of anything in the house. I got a pizza for us last night (I was starving), and have to do some writing tonight when I get home. I think I am going to take some of the Bible information and put it into the first four chapters, and I may even go ahead and do second drafts while I am in there. There’s a lot of “riding the storm out” bits and pieces I can add in–the tension, the worry, the hurry-up-and-wait of it all; how the day before is simply stunningly beautiful, the howling of the wind and the steady downpour of rain. Figuring this book out isn’t going to be easy, but the time frame I was originally looking at does work–so the entire book will take place over about thirty-six hours, from start to finish, with some flashbacks to the past. I am still excited about this book, and compiling the Bible, to be honest. I don’t know why it took so long; the post-it notes have been in volumes of the backlist since before Royal Street Reveillon was published–the last two books don’t have post-its in them.

The weekend is going to be fun, methinks. A plethora of college football games to watch; LSU plays at eleven, so that will free up the day later. I am going to try to do some writing tonight when I get home from work, and I definitely am going to read more of Everybody Knows. I have errands to run and some things to get done this weekend, and I definitely need to clean the damned house. Sigh. Stop being lazy, Greg!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; one can never be entirely certain!

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There Won’t Be Anymore

Hurricane mornings are always weird and a bit off-putting. It looks right now like we’ll be getting close to a direct hit later today. Yesterday it looked like the eye would come through around seven tonight; it may be later than that now. It started raining yesterday afternoon, but it wasn’t difficult getting home because there was very little traffic and very little standing water. I was able to fill the tank on the way home (just in case), and I was able to get a loaf of bread when I stopped at CVS, needing something else so I thought I’d look, and lo and behold, they had bread! Ida was bigger than this and more powerful, but the thing about hurricanes is every one is different and so is their impact. The summer before Katrina, for example, Hurricane Dennis (a category 1) came ashore before Tropical Storm Cindy, which did more damage and knocked power out for half the city, while Dennis was a big nothing despite being a stronger storm. Go figure.

We’re in a lull, where everything is quiet and peaceful and even the rain has stopped. There are a couple of things outside that I need to secure this morning. The office did close today, so we’re all working at home for a few hours; I may take the day off, frankly. I overslept this morning because I stayed up watching the debate last night, which was far better than I ever could have dreamed, with the Vice-President demonstrating why I have been a fan for over a decade. Then social media exploded with the perfectly timed Taylor Swift endorsement, and all in all, it wasn’t a very good night for the Republicans. Thoughts and prayers.

I am choosing, however, to see the positive side of this disruption (even at their best, tropical weather like this is always an interruption of day to day life). I am writing a book set during a Category 1 hurricane, so it’s almost like I spoke this into being, but I am now remembering how they actually work when you don’t evacuate, and so that is enormously helpful; I want the book to take place over the course of a hurricane–from the outer bands to the final bands, and I wasn’t really sure how they work because my memories inevitable block this sort of thing out. But I do have the timeframe now that I need (thank you for something, Francine), and I just need to make notes throughout the day on conditions and how it looks outside and what the wind and torrential rain sounds like. So, turning this into a positive is how I am looking at it. Doesn’t mean I am looking forward to it or anything like that, but at least make use of it. Everything in life is material for a writer, after all.

So, I am going to try to do things around here today. I decided to use paid time off today and not have to do any work stuff–there is some, but I just am not up for it, really. And so I am most likely going to focus on picking things up and getting organized, maybe going through another Scotty volume for information for the Bible (my biggest fear is catching discrepancies and mistakes in the overall series), and going back into what is already done and adding corrections–names and so forth that I couldn’t remember. I had forgotten that I’d already named one of Scotty’s Mom’s siblings, and that he was her only brother. It’s really odd how amorphous Scotty’s family is outside of the immediate family, isn’t it? We don’t really know a whole lot about either side of the family, although we did explore the Bradleys a bit in Who Dat Whodunnit.

Despite the imminent threat of potential destruction, I’m still feeling good about writing still, which is awesome.

It’s also Pay-the-Bills Day, which feels superfluous, but needs to be done today for sure in case we lose power.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close so I can eat something and get cleaned up and get my day going. It’s getting dark again outside, so another band will be here soon. Have a great day wherever you are–and oh yes, heavy thoughts about today too because it’s 9/11. A hurricane on 9/11. Sheesh.

World of Make Believe

I woke up reluctantly this morning to rain, which will be off and on all day, and probably getting worse as the day progresses. Okay, pretty much the same as yesterday. We were on the edge of the cone yesterday, and today we are just outside of it, expecting tropical storm conditions at worst for the moment when she gets here, and it’s going to be relatively nasty both tomorrow and Thursday morning. The whole thing should be over and past by Thursday afternoon. The models kept shifting yesterday; first we were outside, then inside, then back outside again. The agency hasn’t made any announcements yet, but I think I don’t want to drive in tropical storm conditions so might just take tomorrow off and ride this out at home.

The irony that I am writing a book set during tropical weather has not escaped me. I really didn’t need a reminder of riding out a storm.

I am also seeing recommendations that everyone stay home Wednesday and Thursday, and little as I want to use my paid time off to not go into the office, I think my own personal safety and that of my car is more important than my job. Of course, we are completely unprepared–no bread, and probably won’t be able to get any at this point as people have probably already lost their minds about the storm. I still have a case of water from last year’s salt intrusion in the Mississippi, so we’re at least ahead on that score, and of course, we have a lot of candles. God, I hope we don’t lose power. We won’t lose much food, thank heavens, because I’ve been trying to use up everything in the house in order to combat my food anxiety (from being poor in my younger years) and not have a fully stocked house filled with food I never get around to eating.

Yesterday was a low energy day; I managed to get all my work done at the office but was dragging by the time I came home. I didn’t do any writing when I got home, but we watched The Deliverance last night, which was really interesting. It’s based on a true story, apparently, which makes it even more interesting, and the acting was phenomenal. I love urban horror–it’s so much more creepy when horror is set in an urban area, where the suspension of belief is even harder to pull off. A remote creepy big house in the middle of nowhere? Easy to go down that path than to think the house at the end of the block or across the street is haunted, you know? I’ve always wanted to write a great ghost story set in New Orleans.

Also, This Fresh Hell, an anthology I contributed a story to last year, has been short-listed for the Ditmer award for Best Collection! That’s exciting, and I am delighted for the editors. The story I contributed, “Solace in a Dying Hour,” is one of my personal favorites, and is one of my few Louisiana stories that isn’t set in New Orleans. That’s also a story I wrote post-pandemic, and so I guess I have been doing good work since the world shut down four years ago, but it was such a completely miserable time that it seems like I didn’t really write anything good. I also didn’t get as much work done as per my usual, which was a part of the entire self-recrimination thing. I’ve also realized, going through these old Scotty books, that I’ve always considered the ones after the first three as different from the first three. And they are, in many ways, but as always, rather than thinking it through I just thought I wasn’t doing as good of work on that series…but in thinking it through, I realized that mentally it’s like two different series; because there were the first three over four years, and changed publishers with it, starting it again about three or four years after the third came out. By the time I wrote another Scotty, things were different. Publishing had changed. There really weren’t ebooks when the first three came out. Working on the first three was a matter of getting corrected manuscripts in the mail, fixing everything, and then sending them another two copies of the corrected manuscript, and on and on. By the time I wrote Vieux Carre Voodoo, everything was being done electronically, and thus could move a lot faster than the olden days. It’s not that I worked harder on the earlier ones, but it was harder to publish and edit the old way, and time-consuming. And since that was the way I learned how to revise and rewrite and make corrections, in my mind I defaulted to this is the way it’s supposed to be done and I’ve never gotten comfortable with the new way, even if 90% of my books were done that way.

And the clinic is closed for the storm tomorrow. We don’t have bread, and it’s probably impossible to find any now…but we do have crackers. And protein shakes. And lots of soda.

I hope we don’t lose power.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, and everyone in the path, stay safe!

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