Tag: Sky Rojo

Brand New Me

I won’t go so far as to say there’s a new Gregalicious in town now that I’ve hit sixty, but I do feel like some things have…well, shifted a little bit in my head. Maybe that counts as a brand new me, maybe it doesn’t…but I kind of like the way things are going now that I am sixty and who knows? Maybe the world is ready for a new Gregalicious. God knows stranger things have definitely happened.

And apparently continue to happen.

I started working on the revisions yesterday–despite the welcome distraction from an out-of-the-blue phone call for advice from an acquaintance I think rather highly of; we stayed on the phone nearly two hours (which is why I abhor the phone and don’t use it very often; I lose track of time when I am talking and I can talk for literal hours, so it’s really better for everyone if I don’t ever use my phone as a phone) and I even made it to the gym. I got pretty far into it, but I suspect the real work is in the later chapters anyway–at least, I certainly hope so, or I am doing a shitty job of revising things–but this manuscript went through so many changes and revisions in the six or so years since I spat out that first draft in a month that there’s still a lot to catch–incorrect tenses, first person vs. third mistakes, repetitive things–that it will probably take me quite a while to go over everything as thoroughly as I should; and really, after I get through it all one more time, I should probably do it yet again before sending it in to my long-suffering editor. (Considering the mess I originally sent her…she probably just exhaled an enormous sigh of relief, if she read this, that is.) I got through the first quarter of the book yesterday; if all goes well and the creek don’t rise, I would love to have this out of my hair (scalp?) by the weekend.

We finished watching Sky Rojo last night (an absolutely insane crime drama from Spain, about three hookers who try to escape their pimp; it’s action-packed and quite insane–and also quite riveting) before watching the first two episodes of The Chair, with Sandra Oh, which is now on Netflix and is about the English department (Oh is the first woman, let alone woman of color, to chair the department) at a small New England almost-Ivy League college). It was entertaining enough to make us want to continue watching this evening, but it also kind of needs to pick up the pacing a little bit (in my opinion). The mileage of others might vary, of course, but I will pretty much watch Sandra Oh in everything–she always delivers–but the male love interest (and former chair of the department) is extremely irritating if not a bit on the toxic side; but he’s presented as merely an eccentric author and a brilliant teacher, so all the other shit doesn’t seem to much matter–and I don’t like that, honestly; I’m so tired of man-babies being given a pass that isn’t given to others.

Megan Abbott’s The Turnout–I am not quite to page 100 yet–is, as all Megan Abbott novels, rather spectacular. I would love to know how she creates that languid, almost dream-like mood spell she casts over all of her books; her authorial voice is so distinctive and unique you always know you are reading a Megan Abbott novel–no one else can spin magic the way she does. It’s about a ballet school in a smaller town, somewhere in the Midwest (at least that’s the impression I’ve gotten thus far) and it really is almost hypnotic the way she draws you into this magic world she’s creating. I am going to treat myself to a bit of it every night when I get home from work; I may dedicate one of my Bouchercon vacation days to curling up in a chair, forgetting about the rest of the world, and losing myself in the book. It’s an exception novel in a year that has already produced some remarkable crime novels.

It seems to be getting lighter outside now; it was pitch black when I woke up–which seemed weird; I couldn’t remember if it is usually that dark out when I get up on these early mornings (how soon we forget, right?). Who knows? I am rarely–barely–conscious before all the coffee kicks in by nine (which is why I have to get up so early, so I can be functional for my first client at nine), and God knows my memory can no longer be counted on for anything, so…there’s that. But I only have to go in today and tomorrow, and then I am off for nearly a week (I don’t return to the office until a week from Tuesday), which is going to be incredibly glorious. I am hoping to be able to get a lot finished during that time–reading, writing, cleaning, organizing–but…there’s never a guarantee with one Gregalicious that I will want to do anything on those days…

I did make it to the gym yesterday for a fairly decent workout; the renovation isn’t quite completed–the new floor is in but all the new equipment hadn’t arrived and/or been set up by yesterday–so i am very hopeful that Wednesday (I am not going to even try going after work either night this work week) everything will be where it’s supposed to be and I can get the workout in that I would like to get in. It’s funny–I had made up my mind that August was going to be the month where I really start hitting the gym hard and pushing myself….only for the gym to go through a renovation with limited workout opportunities! Ah well, when it rains and all that. September is a good month for a workout reboot anyway; it’s slightly (not much) cooler. The goal is to have dropped down to 200 or so by the end of this year, and then I will reassess and determine what the next goal is going to be.

And on that note, perhaps it is time for me to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader!

Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You)

I managed to get the page and cover proofs for Bury Me in Shadows finished yesterday, and yes, I am at the point again where I am so heartily sick of this book I’d rather not ever look at it again. It’s a good book; I like my main character and I enjoy the story and how it all plays out; I even think I got the tone I was going for correct–I just don’t ever want to have to read it ever again; this is par for the course, and frankly, I was a little surprised as I started going through the proofs that I wasn’t already there; I usually am by this point, and so I am taking this as a good sign for the book. Soon it will be up to the reviewers and the readers and there’s nothing I can do about it anymore. Now all I have to do is fill out the forms and turn them in and I can close up the box with all the drafts and notes and thoughts and everything else under the sun for the book and put it away up in the attic with the other accumulated boxes…which I really need to decide to do something with, and sooner rather than later. Tulane’s Louisiana Historical Research Center had shown some interest in them about a decade or so ago; I should probably renew that conversation at some point; maybe the Historic New Orleans Collection would be interested–I honestly don’t know. But the sooner this stuff it out of my attic and my storage the better, frankly. I should set a date to get them donated and if no one does, indeed, want them–toss them out and be done with it once and for all.

I also wrote an outline/synopsis of what I am going to finish writing for my friend’s website this morning, which I will need to flesh out and finish this morning. Over all, yesterday was a very good day–I also wrote notes for Chapter Four of Chlorine, which I hope to get to finish today, around going to the gym, which would also be lovely.

We’re watching the final season of Animal Kingdom on Hulu; the show seems weird without Ellen Barkin’s chilling performance as Smurf at the heart of it–and I don’t think the flashbacks to her as a young mom committing crimes and using/discarding men are necessary; the actress playing her as a young woman is good–but as I said to Paul last night, “but I think of young Ellen Barkin and how she’d be killing this role, and this young actress just isn’t young Ellen Barkin.” The show is still high quality, though–we’re enjoying it and I would recommend it–and I think tonight we may start watching the new season of Ted Lasso. We’ve been holding off on starting because it’s such a joy to binge-watch; but I am getting more and more impatient to get started. Several other shows we’ve enjoyed–Sky Rojo, Control Z, Dark Desires, Titans–have either dropped new seasons or will be at some point this month, so we should be set for viewing for a while.

I also started writing a short story yesterday–yes, I know, I know, but this is the curse of creative ADHD–called “A Midnight Train Going Anywhere.” Yes, the title came to me while I was listening to Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'” and I thought, she took a midnight train going anywhere was a great image (I’ve always thought so) and as I thought about it some more, I saw a train pulling into a whistle stop station in the middle of Kansas (Kansas has been on my brain a lot lately, because my main character from Chlorine is from there and of course I am about to give the Kansas book it’s final polish from editorial notes) and I just had the image–the lonely platform, the train’s whistle on a cold clear night, the darkness lying on the town at midnight, the only light the station–and a man, sitting on the train, heading west, awakened by the change of the rhythm of the train wheels, getting up to walk around the station platform to work out the kinks in his legs, back and shoulders from riding on the train–but beyond that, I couldn’t really think of anything. I wrote down that entire set-up scene, scribbled away in my new journal (started a new one yesterday!) and didn’t know where to go from there….I have some vague, amorphous ideas, but I also love the idea about writing about a train in a past time–it was also very clear to me this wasn’t an Amtrak train so it had to be set in the distant past (also another nod to Chlorine), but am not sure where it will go or if it will come to anything; I’ll wind up transcribing it today at some point, I am sure. Maybe it will turn into something, maybe it will go into the files with all the others and collect dust there, who knows? What I do know is I have until the end of September to finish Chlorine, so I can spend the final quarter of the year writing Mississippi River Mischief, which will be Scotty IX.

Yikes, right?

The house is also still a hideous mess; I am going to finish the laundry (folding) and empty/refill the dishwasher this morning before i dive into the website writing and the writing of Chapter 4 of Chlorine before heading to the gym this afternoon. I’ve been terrible; I just haven’t had the wherewithal to actually face the heat and walk over there this past week; I don’t think I’ve been since Sunday, to be perfectly honest with you (I had a horrible moment yesterday where I couldn’t remember Thursday–which was a bit terrifying, and then I shrugged and gave up trying, essentially thinking obviously nothing major happened on Thursday if you can’t remember anything), so today’s workout will undoubtedly be exhausting and more than a little painful; but I can hang with it. It’s weird not having the motivation of results anymore–I really don’t care if I look good; that ship has long since sailed and the latest age-related shifts to my body have pretty much let me know I will never be as lean and defined and muscular as I was fifteen years ago, and that’s perfectly fine–but this phase of Greg’s workouts is about feeling better, feeling stretched, maintaining the strength and flexibility of my body, and if the muscles grow and the overall body gets leaner, so be it.

At least I am not obsessively looking at myself in the mirror trying to find trouble spots where fat has accumulated and obsessing about how to get rid of it, thinking that will solve everything. (Helpful hint: it solved nothing.)

I’d also like to spend some time reading this morning; maybe an hour before I get to the writing stuff, after folding the laundry, putting away the clean dishes as well as washing the dirty ones and putting them in the dishwasher. I like Sundays, really; it would be my favorite day of the week if it didn’t end with going to bed and waking up to Monday morning. I seem to always be fairly level on Sundays, focused and relaxed and able to get things done that I want to get done, if you know what I mean. I have a four day weekend next weekend thanks to the office closing to give us all a mini-thank you-vacation for working in a public health clinic during a world-wide pandemic; I am hoping to dive into the revisions of the Kansas book over that weekend and then finishing it during my vacation during the next week (my time off for Bouchercon).

As long as everything goes as planned, by the end of the year I’ll have a great first draft of Chlorine ready to go, as well as a ninth Scotty ready to be turned in; and if I stay motivated maybe even the novellas and short story collections might be ready to go as well.

Fingers crossed as I head back into the spice mines this morning….have a great day, Constant Reader!

Slow Jam

Monday morning and we’re in a flash flood warning–which means it’s flooding somewhere. The phone advisory said (you know, the loud beeping warning at four a.m.) to not even try to go anywhere before eight….of course, I need to be at the office by seven thirty, so there’s that. Sigh. The storm seems to have passed–there was some amazing thunder and lightning I was aware of while I was sleeping comfortably in my warm bed and under my soft, comfortable covers–so I’m not sure if the gray outside is the predawn gray I see every morning, and from the storm. It’s supposed to rain heavily every day until Thursday; this is definitely the wettest spring I can remember us having since we moved here all those years ago.

Yesterday was a good day. I may not have gotten all the things done that I wanted to get done, but I spent a goodly portion of my afternoon answering emails (saving as drafts to be sent today) and my inbox is almost completely emptied out for the first time in I don’t know how long, and it feels pretty fucking marvelous, in all honesty. Emails often defeat me, frankly; there are days when I look at all of them sitting there in my inbox and just close it again. This morning, with an almost empty inbox and some serious energy–two nights in a row of good, deep sleep, in case you were wondering–and I am chastising myself thoroughly for ever letting it get to the point where I need to scroll down through several pages to get to the bottom of them all. OH, no worries–I am sure I will get to that point once again, and probably relatively soon–but being caught up on such a thing makes me feel accomplished this morning, and I am going to roll with that feeling.

I walked to the gym yesterday afternoon in the insane heat (it was in the nineties, but not really humid yesterday) and got in a really good workout. I wasn’t trying to hurry through it the way I usually do–although I did do it quickly–but the gym was deserted and I was able to do the workout the way I like to do it; supersetting exercises and pushing myself (obviously, the key to going to the gym on Sunday is not to go around noon but to wait until about one thirty) and adding weight to the final set. I pushed myself and it felt good, then I came home and filed and organized and cleaned the kitchen. We had started watching a show on Netflix Saturday night, Sky Rojo, which was crazy and fun and action-packed; it’s about three prostitutes in the Canary Island who finally rebel against the abusive pimp in the bordello they work in and make a run for it, being pursued by his evil henchmen, and it was highly entertaining. The episodes were also a lot shorter than I thought–maybe half an hour at most–and we finished it early evening. Then we started watching Jupiter’s Legacy, a superhero series on Netflix based on some graphic novels–we loved Watchmen and The Boys–and despite a rather dull, predictable, and tedious first episode, the show began picking up with the second and we started enjoying it. I’ve always wanted to do a superhero novel myself–it’s one of my bucket list items, along with writing a comic book–and as always, I started thinking about the idea I had for one back in the 1980’s, and have toyed with every so often ever since. (I always end up talking myself out of it, because it’s hard to do any kind of superhero story anymore that isn’t derivative, and isn’t the theme always with great power comes great responsibility? But seeing this, and The Boys..the key is to take something derivative and turn it into something original, which is a terrific challenge, and I like challenges.)

I still haven’t decided what to read next, but I am leaning towards Walter Mosley’s A Red Death; I’d like to get back to my attempt to get through his entire canon. The problem, as always, is there is so little time for me to read, to write, and to get everything finished around the house (chores etc.) around my full-time job and my MWA responsibilities. But it can be done–when I am tired, for example, like reading Summer of ’42 in a single afternoon this past weekend–and so I need to remember that sometimes one can read even when one is tired.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader!