Tag: Sparky

Alvin’s Harmonica

Here we are on another Wednesday Pay the Bills Day, and are we feeling bright and chipper this morning? No, not really, but we’re getting closer to the weekend and that’s always a good thing.

We’re also in a “severe weather alert” and there’s currently a tornado warning until one pm. That should make driving to work exciting, should it not? Sigh. The weather is supposed to be bad all day–high winds and heavy rains, on top of the tornado warning–which also means an odd day at work. Will people try to come in to keep their appointments in inclement weather like this? You never know, and so the entire day is going to be weird like that. We’re also having a site visit from our chief funders for my program today, so I also need to be on my toes. We’re ready for the visit; I got everything caught up that I needed to for this, and so it’s just a matter of making sure everything today runs as smoothly as possible. Heavy sigh. And after some more checking, I see that City Hall is closed today for the weather, they’re allowing parking on the neutral ground because of potential flooding, and yeah, not looking forward to getting there or driving home later today. But at least if there is a tornado, our office building is probably the safest place for me to be during a tornado anyway.

I was very tired when I got home from work yesterday, and so didn’t get very much done. We watched the new Netflix movie Scoop, about the notorious BBC interview with Prince Andrew after the whole Epstein thing went public that basically ended him as an active royal–his titles and responsibilities taken away and forced to live quietly for the rest of his life out of the spotlight and public eye. It was interesting, and had some terrific performances. After that I got up to do chores before bed, so I got the dishes put away and did several loads of laundry before going to bed. Tonight I will do another load of dishes and then the kitchen will be in relatively good shape.

It’s already started raining, and I can tell it’s going to be one of those “oh the city is definitely going to flood” storms, and it’s not going to let up much all day. Huzzah. The pumps all seem to be working, though, which is always a plus. It’s the kind of day where my preference would be to sit in my chair wrapped up in a blanket while Sparky sleeps in my lap and I read more of The Cypress House–it’s a wonderful day for being snug and warm with a book while you listen to the rain come down and the occasional thunder.

Ah, well, maybe it’ll rain this weekend and I can do that.

A lot has happened in the world and culture over the last week or so, and I’ve unfortunately not really remembered to make commentary on some of it. Congratulations to the South Carolina Gamecocks and Coach Dawn Staley on a fantastic season and a national title! I was also incredibly impressed with Coach Staley’s response to the gotcha question about transwomen in sport before the game–which she also called out and didn’t care about any controversy or backlash to her opinion–and that’s the kind of ally-ship we need and deserve. She is a class act in every way, and what she has built at South Carolina is the kind of dynasty the Tennessee women used to enjoy under Pat Summitt, and that is saying a lot.

And almost every day I almost fly into a rage at the right-wing’s attempts to legislate women’s healthcare and bodily autonomy, with the latest outrage courtesy of the Arizona Supreme Court, overruling a recent fifteen-week ban legislated and putting a draconian law from the OLD WEST DAYS OF 1860 TO GO INTO EFFECT. Those fucks are a disgrace to American jurisprudence, and I love that the Attorney General flat out said “we’re not enforcing it, fuck those pieces of shit.” And don’t think for a minute that the evangelicals won’t come for birth control (they’ve already abolished IVF in Alabama) and same sex marriage. You know, I hate to break it to these blasphemous idolators (Trumpism is idolatry, sorry not sorry, have fun in Hell: thou shalt have no other gods before Me). If you want an idea of the country and culture they want, look no further than Puritan Massachusetts. Remember The Scarlet Letter? That’s the kind of shit they want to bring back. You can never ever give a religious extremist an inch….because when you do, they want everything. (And Catholics, don’t think you aren’t on their list after they outlaw and get rid of everyone else. Right after the Jews, they’ll come for you because they always have to have an enemy. The Right’s entire purpose is scapegoating and blaming minorities for everything. So when things continue to suck after they’ve gotten rid of the “problem minorities,” they’ll have to find another group to blame. Remember how the Soviet Union collapsed and the Right didn’t have another enemy in place? Saddam Hussein stepped into that vacuum happily.)

Okay, I am going to brave the elements and go to work. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I will chat with you again maybe later, Constant Reader.

Primrose Lane

Every day’s a holiday on Primrose Lane…

Well, good morning, Constant Reader! I am currently fighting Sparky for space on my desk. Seeing him sprawled across my desk this morning has made me realize just how big he’s getting. YIKES. I feel rested this morning–another good night’s sleep, which was very welcome–and pretty good overall. I wrote last night when I got home, and it felt good. I didn’t read my book last night at all, much to my own regret, but Paul got home shortly after I moved over to the easy chair and we finished Young Royals, which we enjoyed (even if we got annoyed with certain characters at various times) before going to bed relatively early. This week is going to be busy at work, so I am trying to steel myself for facing the next few days. I hope to stay on the writing roll I started last night, and get some progress made before the weekend. I also need to finish my taxes, sigh; an odious chore to be sure, but there’s nothing more patriotic than paying your taxes. I SAID WHAT I SAID.

It was also a little surreal this morning to wake up to a Facebook tag for Banned Books Week here in New Orleans for September–and to see the reason I was tagged was because someone is going to be reading MY work. That was startling, to say the least, but kind of cool. No one ever seemed to care about the fact that I was banned–particularly when it was happening–and I eventually got tired of telling the story and hoping someone else would be as outraged about the entire experience as I was. (NARRATOR VOICE: No one ever was, outside of the ACLU of Virginia.) I overheard someone saying after a panel I was on, where it came up, sometime in the late aughts, “I am so tired of him telling that story over and over again” and so I stopped talking about it much, even on here. Now that I am remembering that bitch (cis white woman, of course, and probably from fucking Metairie), I should have tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Imagine having to live it, bitch.”

That thought–about that woman, and being banned and no one caring (not even my local newspaper covered the story, at least not that I can recall; on the other hand, maybe they did and I just never saw it)–led me around a circular driveway to another point, the one that I’ve thought a lot about lately: why do I always have such a chip on my shoulder when it comes to writing? I think it has to do with primarily my own issues, really; I just assumed people weren’t treating me like a serious person and were dismissive of me because I did work out and stay in shape; something I didn’t quite understand–why shouldn’t writers take care of themselves? It also has to do with the horrific experience I had in college with my first writing teacher–you’ll never be a published writer so you need to find another dream (I was reminded of this lately because I was asked if someone could use the introduction to the ebook of Murder in the Rue Dauphine as a blog entry for a writing site, and that introduction is where I tell that story. Sidebar: I had also forgotten completely that I’d done a new introduction to the reissue, which will fit nicely into my essay collection). So I always felt that not only was I fighting all the odds against being a published writer but I had to also additionally prove that I wasn’t a lunkhead gym bunny.

Maybe this was all in my head? It’s entirely possible–generalized anxiety disorder could have easily put that all into my mind. Sigh.

This decade has been interesting for me. The world is on fire, of course, and has been for quite some time; but my little corner of the world has been very different. Granted, there was a pandemic and all of those things, but my longevity in this business–which is really my stubborn refusal to ever give up–seems to be starting to pay dividends of a sort, I guess? The “academy”, whatever that may be, may still not take me or my work seriously, but longevity eventually begins to work in your favor; i.e. “you’ve lasted this long, so there must be something to your work.” And you know what? I’ll take it. Really, probably thinking that way about five or ten years ago would have irritated me and got my back up a bit; now I don’t care so much about the things that seemed to matter so much to me back in the early days. Ultimately, none of it mattered. I have had an enviable career, once I divorce myself from it and view it from an outside perspective. Well over forty novels, fifty short stories, and I’ve edited over twenty anthologies. I’ve lost count of the award nominations, and don’t care enough to go back and try to count them all. I’ve gotten some pretty great reviews, and I have a readership, or following, or whatever you want to call it.

I really have nothing to complain about.

And on that rather introspective note, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Tuesday be terrific, and I may check in with you again later.

I Need Your Love Tonight

Monday and back to the office blog this morning, and I didn’t want to get up this morning. But now that I am, I feel fine and ready to get on with this day. I did not have the productive weekend that I wanted to have, but I got rest and that’s really the most important part of the weekend for me now. I did get some reading done–I am loving The Cypress House, more on that later–and I did assemble the new barbecue grill (which took much longer than it needed to and was much more complicated than it needed to be, but it’s done and I most pleased with myself for not only doing it, but redoing it when I had done something wrong, as opposed to just leaving it and making it work); it was cool outside but incredibly muggy, so I got overheated and super sweaty while doing it, with the end result that I was really tired when it was finished…and my appetite was gone. Ah, well, at least it’s done and ready for next weekend, right?

We started watching the final season of Young Royals yesterday, and it’s interesting. What’s even more interesting is seeing how the main characters have grown and changed in real life; the prince is now taller than Simon, which he didn’t used to be. They also look more mature in the face, if that makes sense? But watching them kissing now doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as it did in earlier seasons, so they’ve clearly gotten older in real life. I don’t know the ages of the actors and I don’t know if I care enough to go look and see how old they are, but one of the things that always makes me squirm a bit in shows with age appropriate (or appearing) actors is you feel a bit icky watching them be intimate with each other…which is one of the reasons why most teens in film and television are played by actors in their twenties. This, however, gives us all–especially those of us not around teenagers very often–the wrong idea about how adult teenagers look, especially when they’re sexually active…so it’s shocking when you run into actual teenagers and you see how young they really do look. This is something I’ve been wrapping my mind around since Heartstopper, and trying to write about. Maybe now I can finish those thoughts all the way through? Stranger things have happened…

The eclipse is today, and we won’t get full coverage of the sun here in New Orleans, but about 85%, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t going to be weird. I love that people think the eclipse is going to be the rapture (if only), or an omen/sign from God…because that’s just how the universe and space and time work. One shouldn’t be surprised that Marjorie Taylor Greene, who would have been screaming about witchcraft had she been alive in Salem in the 1690’s, would go all Old-Testament in the face of a celestial event science has explained for centuries now. I’d love to see someone do a deep dive on her life–what are her parents, that raised such an inbred moron, like? Siblings? Where did she go to school, if she did? There really is nothing worse than an idiot who thinks God speaks to them. I wonder if she thinks she’s the second coming of some Biblical character, like the idiot Speaker of the House (Louisiana does NOT elect its best people) thinks he’s Moses? Queen Jezebel would be my best guess as to which Biblical POS harlot she would be–or Herodias, mother of Salome.

In a few weeks I’ll be off to Alabama to meet Dad, after which we will drive up to Kentucky where I’ll stay for a few days. I’ve not seen Dad since October, so it’s well overdue, but of course I also had surgery in the meantime and therapy and so forth. I’ll be packing plenty of books to try to get caught up on my reading–and of course, I’ll be listening to audiobooks in the car while I drive. I’ve downloaded quite a few books to listen to in the car, and I’m really looking forward to the drive and letting my creativity roam as I drive. I am dreading that lengthy drive back to New Orleans, as always, but it could also be a but fun. I always love coming home to Paul and Sparky after being away for a while. The only traveling I’ll be doing for the rest of the year will be going to see Dad, so I am hoping to use the rest of the year to pay down some debt so I can make it to Left Coast Crime next year without a problem or worries.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will talk at you again probably later.

What a Difference A Day Makes

Sunday morning here in the Lost Apartment, and today’s blog title seems particularly apropos; I do feel more rested and relaxed and ready to go this morning, and certainly more so than I have all weekend. Never fear, I can always derail my day at any time, but for right now I feel rested and able to get it going somehow. I did sleep later than I (and Sparky) wanted to, but I am firmly believe your body knows what it needs more than your conscious self. I was tired yesterday. I had to go make groceries to get the things I wasn’t able to get Friday evening, and when I got back home from that, I was tired. I had intended to cook out yesterday, but I also had the time for the NCAA Regional Gymnastics Finals wrong–it was on at five rather than seven, as I believed–so I didn’t have time to assemble our new grill in time. I wound up just having a turkey sandwich and Paul made scrambled eggs.

LSU did win that regional meet and qualified for the national semi-finals, and scored over 198, which is a benchmark. They also didn’t have a great vault rotation, which means they could score even higher if they hit on every event. The delightful Haleigh Bryant got two 10’s–vault and bars–and they pulled away from everyone by the end of the second rotation. We also finished Ripley, which is marvelous, and started watching Sugar on Apple, with Colin Farrell–which is also pretty good with a powerful neo-noir sensibility; Sugar, the main character, also has an affinity for old noir films, so sometimes the show is in black and white and sometimes in color, which gives that old, slick late 40’s noir feel to the viewer. It’s also set in LA, so there’s all that wonderful Chandler feel to it, too.

And the apartment is a bit of a mess today, too. I’ve done some good work this weekend getting it all under control, but it’s still not completely, which I will have to work on today around writing and doing others things. I also started reading Michael Koryta’s The Cypress House, which is really good (everything he writes is gold; if he weren’t so good we’d be burning with jealousy) and reminds me I need to really work a lot harder on my own stuff. I read quite a bit of it yesterday morning with my coffee; I will probably do the same again today. It felt good to be reading again; I was also paging through Grady Hendrix’s Paperbacks from Hell, which is always a fun ride down memory lane–it’s about the horror boom of the 70s and 80s, which definitely had an impact and influence on me as a writer; I always went back and forth between horror and crime when I was unpublished, and while I mostly write about crime now I always enjoy branching out into horror sometimes–I have two more supernatural/horror type stories in draft form that I would love to get revised and put in my short story collection. I was doing a lot of thinking about works in progress yesterday while I watched the crime shows and the gymnastics; it’s been a while since my mind started roaming creatively like that, and I really liked experiencing that again; my mind has been fallow for so long I was beginning to worry (as always) that it was going to be stuck like that at some point.

I am also looking forward to reading more often and regularly now; I should absolutely 100% read for an hour every day when I get home from work and decompress; what better way than to curl up in my chair with Sparky purring in my lap? And reading a good writer before settling in to do my own word count for the day is a pretty good idea–I’ve always held that one of the best ways to write better is to read works by authors you admire, and there are so many authors I admire…I also came up with the idea for the next Scotty as well as its title, which is always a challenge. I’ll probably write that later this summer, after I get everything else I want to get done this year done. I am feeling better and am feeling good again; today I have to go to the gym and get restarted on my therapy on my own, too.

And on that note, I am heading to the easy chair with my book for the next hour or so before I come back here to dig into the day’s writing. You have a marvelous Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; one never knows. I have several entries that I need to finish, too.

Tallahassee Lassie

Ah, Saturday morning after another good night’s sleep. I managed to sleep late again–Alarm Sparky hasn’t worked the last two days; he waited until almost eight this morning to demand breakfast and to try eating my Fitbit again; he tries to chew my Fitbit fairly regularly throughout the day. (He has also peeled off my Breath-Rite nose strip both yesterday and this morning–try sleeping through that sometime!) But he’s a sweet boy and I love him. He’s bonded again with Paul over the last couple of weeks and has adjusted to having him around again, which is nice. Settling back into normalcy (or what passes for it) around here now, and trying to get some things done today–preferably this morning, to be honest. I have to get everything done that I need to get done today before seven, which is when the NCAA regional championships for gymnastics airs with LSU trying to make it to national semi-finals. I do have a lot to do today–I really was tired last night when I finished work at home duties, and couldn’t really do much of anything other than finishing the laundry. Paul and I watched more of Ripley, which we are both enjoying and the production values are just so extraordinary; almost every shot is beautiful, and the black-and-white photography is brilliant; I don’t think I’ve seen such stunning visuals in a black-and-white film since Sweet Smell of Success.

I also managed to finish reading Last Summer last night, and there will be more about that later. It’s a very dark and mesmerizing tale; told in a voice that speaks to being a teenager but it gradually becomes very dark. I enjoyed reading it a bit, wondered about its casual homophobia (normal in books when this was punished, yet still startling to encounter; it was so common when I was growing up that I never really noticed the presence of actual queer characters and actual casual homophobia). I did remember the way it ended, and I think I do remember reading the sequel Come Winter. I’ll probably dissect more at some point, and give it a review reflective of the time period in which it was originally published and filmed.

We also watched the first episode of Mary and George, which is so much fun! Julianne Moore is clearly enjoying herself playing Mary, who dragged herself up from the lower classes and has ambitions for not only herself but for her son, the beautiful George, and Lord, is he beautiful. Nicholas Galitzine looks much prettier as a brunette than as a blond; being a blond doesn’t work as well as dark hair. Not sure which is his actually hair color, but those blue eyes certainly pop a lot more with darker hair. It’s way fun, and very very queer; historians are very quick to erase James I’s sexuality and desires for men from the pages of books–you literally need a photo of him buggering someone to convince homophobic historians; history is full of bisexuals, especially among royalty. The seventeenth century has always one of my favorite historical periods, too, and one I’ve always wanted to write about. I guess I should stop being such a coward and try to write something historical since I’ve always wanted to; but Imposter Syndrome always intrudes whenever I start thinking seriously about it. Maybe someday…but the show has the best line about sexuality and gender I’ve ever heard: “A body is just a body.”

Overall, I could easily be upset with myself for not writing last night, but I am not going to do that to myself anymore. I needed the rest, clearly, as I must have been tired. Today I have to run to make groceries, do some writing, and get some other things done. I am going to be cook out today–it’s bright and sunny out there, which is great–and I am hoping to get some cleaning and organizing done around here as well. I do need to empty the dishwasher, and I am a bit hungry this morning. I am going to spend about an hour reading Michael Koryta’s The Cypress House while I drink my coffee and my mind wakes up, and then I have to dig in and get to work for the day.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, I may be back later, and hang in there, okay?

My Happiness

Tuesday and feeling a bit better after the wasted weekend (I wasn’t wasted, but rather wasted the weekend; but I need to stop looking at it that way and realize both my body and my brain wanted, and needed, rest). I wrote another chapter last night and am back into the book; here’s hoping it will last and I’ll keep writing as more time passes. The work wasn’t great, but it’s done and it’s fixable. This weekend I am going to have to really dive into things for sure, and I am hoping this week I’ll be able to keep up with the kitchen and everything else so I don’t have to spend a lot of time doing that this weekend and instead can dive headfirst into writing and reading.

I stopped to pick up a few things on the way home from the grocery store last night, and then once I was home I emptied the dishwasher, bonded with Sparky a bit, and then sat down to work. Sparky wasn’t especially fond of this idea–he’s not fond of anything I do that doesn’t involve either providing a lap for him to sleep in, filling his food bowl, or playing with him. I do think we’re going to have to make a Costco run this weekend at some point–we’re running low on some things–and there are some other things I need to order for delivery this weekend, too.

But I am happy I am writing again. I’m sorry I didn’t have the time or energy to edit “Passenger to Franklin,” which I was writing for the Chessies chapter’s next anthology; but it wasn’t ready to be submitted and had I done so, it would have been rejected anyway. The nice thing is this anthology–themed around urban legends–provided two short stories for me–“When I Die” and this one; both of which need editing, and both of which I think are going to be terrific stories and perfect for my collection, too. I have found the voice for “Passenger,” which was missing in the first draft, and “When I Die” needs to be revised so I can make the main character gay; it works better that way, especially with an unrequited crush on his wealthier roommate. I like the idea of them visiting the graveyard at Frenier as kind of a fraternity prank; the rich roommate thinks it might be a fun thing to do to all the pledges, and the one they take out with them into the Manchac Swamp is a pledge who looks up to both of them, in a smarmy way the main character doesn’t necessarily like–and we see a personality change come over him as they cruise through the swamp at night. (I also need to look up boats, and sometime I have to drive out to Laplace so I can take the old highway and see what that’s like so I can write about it some more. The college and town I am writing about on the North Shore is fictional, of course; but Frenier and the swamp are real.

And both legalizing cannabis and protecting abortion are now on the ballot in Florida, which makes me absolutely giddy with joy. This is very good news for the Democratic Party and really bad news for trash like DeSantis and that ghoul Rick Scott; I would hope it means a huge turnout which always is bad news for Republicans–that’s why they are always screaming about “voter fraud” and trying to suppress people’s right to vote; free and open elections generally aren’t good for Fascists.

After I got my word count for the day, Paul and I settled in and started watching Apples Never Fall, which we are really enjoying. It’s based on a book by Liane Moriarty (also the author of Big Little Lies and a few others; I’ve enjoyed everything of hers that I’ve read thus far) and I like how this is playing out so far. It’s so nice having Paul home in the evenings again–I’d forgotten how much I just enjoy our down time together in the evenings.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I may be back again later; one never knows.

Kookie Kookie (Lend Me Your Comb)

Saturday morning, and I slept late. Yesterday was–well, I shouldn’t say wasted, but I spent most of the day dealing with the crisis that arose over the week and was thus unable to work at home, write, clean, or do much of anything. I started the laundry yesterday morning and wasn’t able to get back to it until we got home, and by then it was almost eight, so I was up until eleven finishing the bedding. I also managed to do some picking up around here in the morning before leaving the house, but there’s a lot still to be done. I have to empty the dishwasher and refill it to do another load and empty the sinks. The recycling needs to go out, and I still need to finish unpacking Paul from last weekend, and get that stuff out of the living room so I can get back to work on the floors. I need to write a lot this weekend; I need to edit and revise a short story for a deadline tomorrow. The house is a disaster area and that needs to be rectified today if it kills me (it won’t).

I did have the time to read some more of Evan Hunter’s Last Summer, and I am slowly being sucked into the story, and there’s this dark sense of foreboding which is absolutely marvelous, stylistically. I am looking forward to finishing reading it today between chores and writing and things, and then I am going to read something a little heavier, I think. I really need to get back on the reading horse. I am going to clear out some books for the library sale today too, I think; I am feeling like I want my life to be more uncluttered, and I know I am. never going to read all these books I have on hand. I feel like the disappearance of my anxiety thanks to medications (it’s not completely gone, it will never be completely gone, but it doesn’t control me anymore) has also freed me from the need to be surrounded at home by piles and stacks of books that have overflowed out of the bookcases, which are also stuffed to capacity.

Sparky also wreaked havoc on the kitchen while we were gone yesterday, so I have to kind of put my workspace and the kitchen back together this morning, too. Heavy heaving sigh. I was exhausted when I got home last night, though–to give myself a little credit and not be so hard on myself. I’ve also not eaten a whole lot over the last couple of days, which is not a good thing physically even if it means I dropped a couple of pounds or so. I need to get back to the gym to do my exercises to keep strengthening my arm and shoulder, and gradually return to a normal workout for me. I definitely need to redo my to-do list for the week, and I also need to focus today. It would be ridiculously easy to just blow off the entire day today, but that isn’t in the cards–I can’t start my work week Monday this far behind on everything, as tempting as it is to just sit in my chair with my coffee and Last Summer this morning. For one thing, I slept late so got a late start on the day–and now my sleep schedule has been disrupted by going to bed so late last night and getting up late this morning.

Okay, this mess isn’t going to clean itself up anytime soon, so I am going to make this brief and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will most likely be back later.

A Teenager in Love

Monday morning and back to the office blog. I did write some yesterday–not nearly enough–and I did get some things done this weekend. I bought blinds for the breakfast nook, but I think they are too small; I may have to exchange them for another, larger set. Which is okay; I can do it after work one night as the Lowe’s is just up Elysian Fields. Tonight after work I have to go to the gym to do PT, and then I’m coming home to do some more writing and cleaning. Paul’s moving into the Monteleone on Wednesday, which means I’ll be here alone with the Sparkster, and also means Sparky will be very needy. He loves the cat treats I got him this weekend, no surprise there, and so I will continue to dole them out for good behavior. I feel rested this morning, which is different from most usual Monday mornings, but I think that has to do with making myself get up early Sunday morning and not sleeping late again the way I did Saturday morning.

Still, that felt amazing.

I feel pretty good this morning, too. The temperature dropped again over night, so there is a bit of a chill in the air this morning. I need to actually look at the program for S&S this weekend so I can put the stuff I am doing on my calendar and can start planning for the weekend. It’ll be weird being home alone for the long weekend (Wednesday thru Monday), but I’ve been a Festival widow since January anyway, so it probably won’t even be noticeable. I’ve also taken Monday off, as it’s always brutal getting up at six in the morning after the Festivals have concluded. It was a little odd this morning, though; Sparky usually comes and starts smacking me in the face with his paw just before the alarm goes off, and continues to do so while purring and cuddling until I get up. He didn’t come out from under the bed until I actually got out of bed, and just followed me downstairs instead of insisting on food immediately. His bowl was completely empty this morning, too.

I did write about a thousand new words on the short story yesterday, but my mind kept wandering and I got up to do something and just never went back. I also edited the 2000 words or so I had already done, so I think it was probably more new words than merely a thousand. It still feels a little rusty for me when I’m writing, but the best way to get past that is to keep writing until it starts to feel natural again and my mind stops wandering when I am writing. That’s the weirdest part. Usually when I write I shut out everything and am laser-focused, that’s not the case anymore and that’s fine.

My mind is still bouncing all over the place, too. It’s trying to spike my anxiety, too, but I just take some deep breaths and calm down, which is a lot easier to do with the new medications.

I did finish reading The Cook by Harry Kressing, which was an interesting and short read. It was a black comedy of sorts, more of a Kafka-esque fable than anything else, but in all honesty I enjoyed the movie version (Something for Everyone) a lot more than I did the book; in the book Conrad seduces everyone with his incredible food and force of will; in the movie, he’s played by a stunningly beautiful young Michael York who actually sexually seduces his prey until he gets what he wants. I will do a more in-depth review of the book at some point, but it does play into my thoughts that Saltburn owes more to that movie than it does The Talented Mr. Ripley or Brideshead Revisited.

We also finished watching season two of The Tourist, which was twisty and clever and fun and we really enjoyed it and are really looking forward to the third season–the second ended with a terrific cliffhanger twist that definitely will make for a fascinating and exciting third season. Plus, Jamie Dornan and Danielle Macdonald have some amazing chemistry together.

I also watched some documentaries last night about Jayne Mansfield, who I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I’m not entirely sure what triggered me to thinking about her again. I first read about her in Earl Wilson’s The Show Business Nobody Knows when I was a teenager, and from there went on to read May Mann’s biography of her, Jayne Mansfield. She was very interesting to me, and was thrilled when her daughter began her career as an actress. I remember thinking Mariska Hargitay? She must be Jayne Mansfield’s daughter because what are the odds of there being two Mariska Hargitays? and watched her for years on Law and Order: SVU. Oh, now I do remember. I bought a copy of the Wilson off ebay because I thought it might be helpful with Chlorine, to give me an idea of what it was like to be in show business in the 1950’s, and of course, he devoted a chapter to her. I bought another bio of her off eBay recently, and she is very interesting, as she always has been to me. I’ve only seen one film of hers, Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter, which I thought was hilarious and she was fantastic in it. Benjamin Dreyer brought her up on one of the social media channels this weekend, and so I thought I’d find what I could of her on Youtube. Her story was actually perfect for someone like Jackie Collins or Jacqueline Susann to have written a huge trashy novel about, I’ve always thought. I also loved that she was actually–despite her image as a sexy dumb blonde–incredibly smart, almost genius level. And she only worked in show business for about ten years–while having four children, too, and keeping that incredible figure.

It’s funny; I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, Constant Reader, but I generally use song titles for my blog posts. About twelve years ago it was getting harder and harder to think up song titles organically, so I started using themes–Stevie Nicks songs, Pet Shop Boys songs, top 100 hits of 1977, that sort of thing. I can’t remember now which years I’ve used so I recently went back to the top 100 of 1959, I think; it’s interesting how many titles and songs have to do with teenagers; clearly, modern songwriters don’t have to write about teenage heartbreak anymore to appeal to young listeners. I also started watching Eras: The Taylor Swift Concert Movie, and I have to say I am very impressed. I can’t dedicate three and a half hours to watching it, but putting it on and listening while doing chores is terrific. Her show is amazing–I still have over an hour to watch (and am bummed she didn’t do “Red”) and I am actually looking forward to it. I also love how much right-wingers hate her.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day Constant Reader, and I may be back later, you never can be sure. I’m tricky that way!

Sorry (I Ran All The Way Home)

It’s raining.

Sparky was cuddling with me this morning in the bed as I took my time deciding whether the siren song of the comfortable bed and blankets was resistible when I heard thunder and that decided me. I do think I will take advantage of this gloom and the falling rain and the thunder to read some more of my book this morning (The Cook by Harry Kressing) before diving into an exciting day of writing and cleaning. Yesterday I ran some errands–Lowe’s and Rouse’s–before coming home and getting back into the filing and cleaning. I got us a pizza for dinner, and when Paul got home we watched two more episodes of The Tourist, which I am really loving (despite the fact there have been no gratuitous shirtless shots of Jamie Dornan, which seems a shame and a waste). Oh, and the Saints and Sinners program is available here. I am moderating a crime fiction panel with a powerhouse panel, and I am also doing a reading. I’m not sure what I will read from, but I am leaning towards my short story “Moist Money” or “The Ditch.” Guess I should start rehearsing. Or getting ready to moderate the panel. Maybe later.

“The procrastination is strong in this one.”

But once I finish this and make myself some breakfast, I am going to take my coffee into the living room and read some more for a little while before getting cleaned up and heading back into the spice mines. I feel like I can get some good work done today. Paul will probably get up later today, and we’ll probably finish watching The Tourist, which is a fine and lovely way to spend the day, methinks. I also need to finish up some filing and emptying out my inbox, and before you know it it’ll be bedtime. I had hoped to barbecue today, but if the rain doesn’t let up that’s a no-go, alas. I also bought a new grill yesterday (Lowe’s) which needs to be assembled and the old one disposed of; I also bought blinds for the window which I fear might be too small. I am debating whether I should try to put them up myself or ask Sam our handyman to do it when he works on the windows (he’s trying to unstick them so I can get fresh air into the house), The desk and the computer need to be moved before hand, of course, which is a problem…but I also have a laptop and an iPad with a keyboard, so I have no excuse for not writing when I’m in the chair, do I? And yet…

I do feel good this morning, rested and alert and awake and raring to go; we’ll see how long that lasts. It’s very gray outside, which means we’ll most likely be getting rain for most of the day. Which is okay; I can make something else with the ground sirloin in the fridge, and I am adapting, always a good sign–I used to get so unsettled by a change in plans for the day that I’d inevitably wind up doing nothing, which was not a good thing.

I’m also thinking about what I want to do for the rest of the year, and with my career for the rest of my life. It’s weird to think in those terms, isn’t it? But I am also getting to the point where I am having to start thinking in terms of well, if you die, which idea will you be most disappointed in not writing? And this is tricky, because I am always getting new ideas that sound terrific. It’s really important, at least to me, that I spend the rest of this year finishing things in progress and getting them out of my hair. I know I want to write about both Alabama and Kansas again, and probably a New Orleans ghost story I’ve been wanting to write for a very long time now. I have a book that has about 40k done on it, but will need extensive revision and at least another 40k.

And who knows? I may even bring Chanse back ONE MORE TIME–but don’t count on it.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back at some point later.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Saturday morning and I was exhausted, not rising up out of bed until well past eight. Sparky tried to get me up (five a.m. for food; he doesn’t recognize Daylight Savings Time) several times–I did get up to feed him at six–before giving up and curling up to my side and going to sleep. I could hardly disturb him by getting up, could I? Plus I still felt very tired, exhausted, until I finally did get up. PT was particularly intense yesterday–I had a new therapist who was filling in for my regular–and she was just stunned, repeatedly, at how well I was doing and how strong I was, which was really nice. She kept commenting on it the entire time, which was a lovely thing for my ego and only encouraged me to keep pushing harder. I came home, worked, did some chores around here. and then ran a couple of errands after the work was done. I was exhausted (I think I did seven loads of laundry? It had built up and Friday is when I do the bed linens), and just collapsed into my chair. I finished watching Feud–I didn’t think last week’s was the final, if it did indeed end with him dying–and then watched LSU’s gymnastics team trounce North Carolina in their last meet of the season (SEC meet is next weekend) before watching this week’s Abbott Elementary and retiring to bed, exhausted. I have a busy day ahead of me–reading, writing, errands, other chores–and my house is also a mess, sigh. But I’m not going to allow all the things I need to get done to overwhelm me and thus guarantee none of it will get done.

And I definitely need to make groceries.

But I do feel tired–fatigued–in my muscles. The shoulders are fatigued, and so are my legs and my lower back feels a bit tight. Fortunately I bought that hand-held massage device (which can’t be used as a vibrator, get your head out of the gutter), so I think I am going to use it and that foam back roller today, maybe stretching a bit will help the leg fatigue. I also am going to get cleaned up this morning–shaving the face and head, which I don’t keep up with as much as I should, bad Gregalicious, bad Gregalicious. I need to get to work on myself more than anything else, and need to stop thinking “meh, good enough”. I think later on this year I’m going to have to make a trip to the outlet mall in Gonzalez and get some new clothes–dressier pants and shirts, at any rate–to go with the fancier shoes I have; I’ve never matched outfits to a couple of pairs of Oxfords, which makes wearing them more difficult–bothering my OCD–because the outfits have to be made to somehow match the shoes, and I don’t always succeed. I usually am bored by shopping for clothes; but now that I am thinking about experimenting with style, it actually sounds a bit more intriguing than it ever did before, frankly…and now that I am thinking about it more, that was undoubtedly triggered by my anxiety.

And now that I no longer have the anxiety anymore, maybe shopping for clothes will cease to be an ordeal for me. And I do love argylle.

It’s a very bright and sunny morning here in New Orleans, too–which reminds that I need to size the windows and order blinds, so I should also check on office supplies and maybe order for pick-up or delivery–and so I am feeling like I should be able to get things done today (or it’s the coffee kicking into gear here); we’ll see how it goes and how long my energy lasts–it should be a major grocery run today, but then again Paul won’t be home after Wednesday so…probably not? Heavy sigh. I guess I’ll NOT do a major grocery run today and then add things during the week that we need. I also bought a half-gallon of milk thinking we were out and SURPRISE! There was a half-gallon in the refrigerator already. AH, well.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. I have things that I need to get done this morning, and I also want to read a little bit before I dive into the day headfirst. May your Saturday be amazing and wonderful and cool, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again later.