Monday morning and back to the office with me this morning. I don’t feel fatigued, but I also didn’t want to get out of the warm bed or out from under my pile of blankets. But the coffee is going down easily and tastes marvelous, and the Lost Apartment is mostly clean; I didn’t finish the downstairs yesterday so there’s some touching-up still necessary tonight when I get home. I’m hoping that I won’t be too tired to do that necessary touching up. I certainly don’t want to leave it for the weekend, especially since I don’t have my work-at-home day this week since we’re having an “in-service” day so I have to come in.
Paul had a board retreat so he was out of the house for most of the afternoon and into the early evening. I worked on the kitchen and finishing the living room some, had groceries delivered, and made Greg’s Swedish Meatballs for dinner (they were superb; the alterations I made this time were the right ones). I also did some research when I was taking a break from cleaning–hurricanes, the 1970s, gay Hollywood during the days the studio system started crumbling–and also did some reading. I am pleased to report that The Hunting Wives is very well written and very different (already) from the series, which is kind of exciting. I also dipped into Shirley Jackson’s Life Among the Savages, and it staggers me how her writing style, that unique rhythm and voice she had, easily adapts from quiet horror to family humor.
I also started rereading Hurricane Season Hustle, the long-delayed Scotty book (why does it always seem to be Scotty books that get delayed?), and I have to confess that it’s actually not bad. The writing isn’t terrible and doesn’t need a lot of fixing, which is enormously pleasing. I simply have to write five or six chapters, the epilogue and prologue, and put some shine and sparkle on it. I am not so certain why I am always so down on my writing, especially in its sloppy early stages, because my low regard for it is not shared by most. I am working on not being hard on myself anymore–I certainly don’t need to prove anything anymore to anyone–and while I don’t think it’s wrong to think I can do better (because one always can), I need to be a bit kinder about it. Part of the reason I think I’m able to watch these Hurricane Katrina stories and documentaries now is because I am going to be dealing with, and exploring, Scotty’s memories of Katrina as the current hurricane is battering the Diderot House. I think the plot is kind of clever, and I am an award-winning author, after all. Is that confidence I feel? #madness.
We started watching Smoke on Apple Plus last night. It co-stars Taron Edgerton as an arson inspector, and Jurnee Smollett as a police detective assigned to work with him on two serial arsonist cases. It was created and written by Dennis Lehane (remember him? Mystic River? Of course you do.), and the first episode was interesting; both characters are complex and have a lot of issues, and the acting and writing is top notch. The show appears to be a slow burn (see what I did there?), and we are definitely down for watching more. We had an arsonist in the lower Garden District in the late 1990s; the Coliseum Theater was one of his victims as were several other houses in the neighborhood. Fire and water are the two elements that New Orleans dreads–how many “great fires” have there been here, anyway?–and maybe it is time for a novel about fires in New Orleans?
Then again, I’ve already done the Cabildo Fire. The Upstairs Lounge fire, too.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.
Sunday morning, how are you doing this morning? Shockingly, Sparky let me sleep super-late this morning, so I am beginning the day already feeling behind, which…is just anxiety I need to let go of, isn’t it? Yesterday was pleasant. Paul ended up rescheduling his trainer from yesterday to today, so I didn’t have the alone time I thought I’d have. I did spend some time with Megan Abbott’s superb new novel, and I did some chores for sure, but overall I didn’t feel like I managed much. We watched a couple of movies, and then started watching the second season of Shiny Happy People, which focuses on the “Christian” cult of Teen Mania.
Seriously, freedom of religion is important, but sometimes it gets taken too far. Sexual abuse of children under the guise of “religion” should be a dealbreaker, period, regardless of religion. How much money has the Catholic Church paid out in settlements for child rapist priests? Madness. And yet, the raping and covering up continues, unabated….while the Church maintains it has moral authority over its flock.
We rewatched Jaws yesterday; I can’t remember the last time I saw it, but I very much remember the first time I saw it: Mom took us after church shortly after it opened, and the only three seats together in the theater was in the center front row, so the screen was right there in front of us–and it was terrifying. The movie is very well-made, the performances of everyone other than Brody’s wife were terrific, and it very much followed the formula of the classic disaster movie–officials, worried about money, ignore the experts and open the beaches anyway, which leads to more death–only with a very big audience so the existence of said enormous shark is no longer in question. It’s also a monster movie, so when we finished we watched Wolf Man, which wasn’t great but wasn’t as terrible as reviews and commentators made it sound. Julia Garner is always terrific (loved loved loved her in Ozark), and it was entertaining enough. I thought the suspense was good and the story itself was pretty simple; I don’t think the prologue was necessary but other than that, it was a solid B score from me.
I had groceries delivered yesterday, and this new modern-day experience is one that I quite enjoy. It’s much easier to go on an app, order the food, and then wait for it to be delivered, rather than getting cleaned up and dressed and driving around town then having to do the shopping myself once I get to the store. One delivery came around noon, and the other arrived about half an hour later, which was marvelous. There are some other things I forgot to order, but they can all wait until I go to the store (or order again) on Wednesday on the way home from work. I am trying to decide if I want to make Swedish meatballs today, or ravioli, or any of the other options there are in the house today.
And obviously, I have a lot of reading, writing, and editing to get done today. I need to make a fresh to-do list, and one set of cabinets really needs to be better organized. I also need to find a place to store the endless boxes of tissues we got at Costco the last time we went. I also have some filing to do; when I finish this I’ll probably go watch some news and read until I feel like getting to work. Reading is often a risk because Sparky will see me in the chair as an invitation to sleep in my lap, and once the cat starts sleeping it’s all over for me. In my own defense, he’s awfully cute and sweet. I am so happy he’s more comfortable around us and more affectionate–he loves riding on my shoulders–and he’s also, after months, decided his cat bed is a perfect sleeping spot.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the morning. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; if not, it will be tomorrow morning. Until then, ta!
Well, yesterday was a fun day for college football. LSU won at Arkansas 34-10, which was an enormous relief. While LSU has now won eight of the last nine against the Razorbacks, it’s a rivalry game (The Battle for the Golden Boot) and Arkansas always, somehow, manages to play LSU tough (there have been some real shockers and close calls over the years), and the game was pretty much in doubt until an amazing fumble recovery caused and recovered by the amazing Whit Weeks (who is quickly becoming one of my favorite LSU players of all time) allowed the Tigers to finally pull away and beat them. Alabama lost to Tennessee, and this is the first time since 2007 (the last time they had a new coach) they have multiple losses going into November. Georgia trounced Texas in Austin last night, too; if someone would have told me after the USC game this year that LSU would be tied for first in the SEC with Texas A&M at this point in the season and ranked in the Top Ten, I probably would have laughed pretty hard. And of course, next week LSU plays at Texas A&M, which will give the winner a pretty big boost to making it to the conference championship, as only one team will come out of the game undefeated in conference play (A&M and LSU’s only loss have come out of conference; there are no undefeated SEC teams left). We also watched some of Skate America yesterday, and will probably watch more today. I didn’t get as much done yesterday as I would have liked, but that’s simply the nature of the beast and it’s fine. I slept a little late this morning, too, but feel good. The kitchen is again a mess, and I am going to make white bean chicken chili today, which will make even more of a mess; sad that I have to clean it only to mess it up yet again…and Vanderbilt now has the same record as Alabama. When did we diverge off the main timeline again? And of course, South Carolina embarrassed Oklahoma (welcome to the SEC!). Even Mississippi State put a scare into A&M, too.
Seriously, what a crazy–and unpredictable and fun–season this has turned out to be for us fans.
I don’t have to leave the house today, either, which is another delightful occurrence. I made groceries yesterday, and after getting home from that expedition I chose to settle in for a day of football. Sparky was still calmed from his vet visit on Friday–Paul thinks he’s sulking because his nails were trimmed, but he hasn’t attacked me or tried to climb me since we got home. He also spends a lot more time cuddling and sleeping with me in the chair. He’s such a sweet little baby. We also have a lot of shows to get caught up on, too. I am definitely going to Kentucky next weekend, too, which will be very nice. I can drive up on Sunday and come back on Friday, which will be a very nice long visit and then I can get back home to watch the Alabama game (they haven’t been the same since they beat Georgia, which is weird). I can spend a lot of time sleeping and resting and relaxing and reading, which is always a lovely thing to have going on, and then I can start focusing on getting writing done and keeping up with the house. It’ll definitely be weird once football season is over, too. The play-offs are going to be strange, too; a gauntlet to determine the national champion. My suspicion is no one is going to make it through the season undefeated.
And then it’s Carnival again. Where oh where did this year go?
But today, I need to read and I need to write. Once I finish this, I’ll go read for a bit and then clean the kitchen, and start making the chicken chili, which is mostly for lunches this week. I also have to make Swedish meatballs, which I bought at Costco to see if it would be any good. That can also be lunches (and dinners) for the week around here. Payday is Wednesday, so I’ll be able to get groceries for Paul before I leave, so he can survive the week. It’ll also be kind of cool just reading horror while I am at Dad’s; Shadowland to listen to in the car and then finish reading once in Kentucky; Tananarive Due and Scott Carson and Nick Cutter to take with to read up there; and then it’ll be November when I drive home so I can go back to listening to something non-horror for the ride home. Possibly a Carol Goodman, or a Lisa Unger, perhaps. I really have a plethora of riches in my TBR stacks. I know I should read more broadly, and I should expand my horizons out of crime and horror–would it kill me to read science fiction or fantasy or romance or (gasp) literary fiction? Probably not, and I do have some really great books in all those categories in the stacks, too. I think I want to read something by Valerie Martin, Jami Attenburg, or Celeste Ng by the end of the year. (I also have some Ann Hood novels on hand; she’s fantastic.)
And on that note, none of this is getting done while I sit here and swill coffee and scroll unnecessarily online, will it? So perhaps it’s best to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines. I may be back later, but I wouldn’t hold my breath, Constant Reader, so have a lovely Sunday, okay?
It’s Sunday morning, I overslept, Sparky is chasing a bottle cap and I’ve been watching kitten videos since I got up while slurping down my morning coffee. Kitten videos really do have a lovely effect on the soul, don’t they? I would definitely foster kittens if we had more room in the house. Humans really are not good enough for our pets and don’t deserve them (I woke up this morning with Sparky cuddled up with me on my pillow). I will never understand people who give their pets up or just abandon them to fend for themselves.
Then again, I’ve never really understood how people could abuse or kill or give up their children, either. I thank God every day for my parents, you know? I really hit the lottery with mine, despite their conservative values and beliefs because they were terrific parents in almost every metric that is measurable. I ended up taking yesterday off. We were in a heat advisory for the day, so I didn’t want to go out in the misery and I did manage to get some things done before Paul got up, and my favorite thing to do is just hang out with him in the living room watching television, which is what we did. We finished Outer Rang1e and began watching Evil, which becomes really interesting once it revs up and gets going (I particularly enjoyed the ‘ghost hunter’ episode). I also finished off one journal and began another, and most of what I scribbled in there was work on the new book–which I must absolutely 100% work on today before I go make groceries. My plan for today is to do some work in the kitchen, do some writing and then head out to the store. I don’t need much, actually, which is great for my budget, but it’s all stuff that is entirely necessary and needed. (Sparky needs treats!) It felt good not to do much of anything other than journaling yesterday. I made Swedish meatballs for dinner, and that was probably the best batch of them I’ve ever made (and sadly, will never be able to make them the same way as I do it from memory and so it’s always different every time). I’m having fun cooking again, and I’m looking forward to trying to make some new stuff and teaching myself more recipes and so forth.
I’ve also got some scanning to get done today. I also managed to get down some boxes from on top of the cabinets and got rid of two of them. I have more books to donate next weekend to the library sale (need to fill the box up first), more paper to throw away, and now I can start on the other side of the kitchen cabinets. Once the tops of the cabinets are cleared, I can start taking things down from the attic and getting rid of/going through those boxes. I’d like to be able to move all my own books up there and get them out of the way–which would open up an entire bookcase, which would help the books stacked on the floor situation, which would be super nice. I am determined to end this year completely decluttered and a former packrat. Stranger things have happened, after all.
I’m going to try to avoid the news and social media today. All it does is enrage me, and I can’t afford to waste that much energy on things I cannot control. My identity as a gay male pretty much decides my politics for me, and for the record, I am far more socialist in my beliefs and values than we are even remotely close to as a country, but I am also pragmatic, and my own brush with the world of politics back in the aughts only served to reaffirm that stance. I don’t think it speaks well of the wealthiest country in the history of the planet that we do not care about the most vulnerable citizens and don’t care if children go to bed hungry. I’ve never understood the vicious, selfish mentality of punishing children for the sins of their parents, and poverty isn’t a crime in this country yet; neither is mental illness. We should as a society be far more concerned with helping the less fortunate…but then we’d be a Christian nation, and despite all claims to the contrary we are most definitely not a Christian country–because the best measure of a truly Christian nation is how we take care of the poor and the sick and we definitely fall down in that respect…but ironically the Nat C’s are, as always, only interested in symbols and ideas, rather than actually living a Christ-like life. I don’t know how anyone can read the New Testament and come away from it not caring about the sick and the poor. It’s pretty clear.
But then, the Nat C’s aren’t big on reading comprehension.
Glancing at my Substack, I see yesterday’s post there (“Tell Me Why,” an entry I posted yesterday about art v the artist) apparently cost me a subscriber. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. This is one of the reasons I never wanted to do a newsletter in the first place; having people unsubscribe made me self-conscious about what I say in one if I can see those numbers either going up or down, and obsess about them. I don’t want to censor myself. I’ve censored myself for so long…but seriously, if you don’t support my values and my beliefs, or understand how my sexuality colors those, why are you even here? Not everyone agrees with me, not every queer agrees with me, and certainly not every white cisgender gay man does, either (Log Cabin Republicans do exist, after all). There certainly are plenty of gay men who are transphobic or racist or misogynist (or any combination of the three), which I don’t understand and will never understand how the cognitive dissonance doesn’t drive them mad, but here we are.
And I am done censoring myself to coddle the feelings of people who think I’m a disgusting pervert pedophile? They can fuck right off. They don’t care about my feelings, why should I give any of my time, brain space, or energy worrying about theirs?
And on that defiant note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a terrific Sunday, Constant Reader, and remember–under Project 2025 everything will be closed and nothing will go on other than spending time with loved ones, most likely at church (but hey, doesn’t the preacher work on the Lord’s Day? Maybe he shouldn’t get paid…) on Sundays, and no more NFL. What a glorious future.
NOT.
I’m not really sure about this pose, to be honest. It just looks weird and not sexy at all. Not sure what they were going for here, frankly.
Really enjoyed this show’s second season, and not sure if there’s a need for a third, even though a lot was left up the air and it was never fully explained other than “time is a river.” Okay then, but it did feel rather satisfying when it ended. ↩︎
Sunday morning after a marvelous Saturday here in New Orleans. I slept late this morning, but no judgments or being rough on myself about it; obviously, I needed the sleep. It’s really funny how much my brain function has changed since starting the new meds. I also think it’s partly that my brain fog from the anesthesia has lifted at long last. I’m still forgetful, of course–that’s the “wisdom of age” everyone talks about, forgetting things–but my mind is clearer than it’s been since I had COVID in the summer of 2022. But I feel like today will be another good day like yesterday morning was, and it’s already looking like another beautiful day outside, too.
Yesterday morning I got up, felt very rested and energized as well as mentally there (this has been going on almost this entire last week and it’s wonderful; you have no idea!), and it was a gorgeous day. I ran my errands, and on my way home I stopped to wash my car at the self-wash place on Louisiana (the car was horribly filthy; and looked like a flock of birds had dive-bombed it with their nasty shit), and then got my dry cleaning. I came home and went to work. I cleaned, I organized, I filed, I did laundry and dishes, and last night I lit up the grill and cooked out, which we’ve not done since last summer. The burgers were great, too; no more frozen ones simply for the ease. There’s nothing like fresh hamburger meat, either. Today I am going to make Swedish meatballs.
I didn’t write a lot yesterday but while I was filing and organizing, the next phase of “When I Die” came to me, as did how to finish two other stories that are in progress and have been for several years now. I also worked out some other things in my head for other projects, and so I have to say I was very pleased with myself last night as I lit the charcoal and sautéed mushrooms and sliced a red onion. After dinner, we watched this week’s Abbott Elementary and started True Detective: Night Country, which is very stylized and very well done. I’ve not watched a season of the show fully since the first one, which I didn’t much care for (despite the adoration straight men threw its way), but I am liking this season a lot more than I ever did that first one. (May have to try to watch the previous seasons again at some point.) I also watched a two hour documentary on Youtube titled “LSU Football Time Capsule,” which went back to show great clips of LSU’s storied football history, from 1958 through 2018. While I was watching, I decided to come up with a list of my top ten favorite LSU games since 1998, which was also kind of fun to do (and I’ll probably post when the season is about to start again this fall).
So, yes, I am rather smug about my day yesterday, and I am thinking that today I will mostly focus on writing and reading, with some leftover cleaning to do and potentially some more pruning of the books. I also need to update my to-do list for the week, organize and deal with my medical bills, prepare for a fight with my health insurance (which I’m actually looking forward to beating them into the ground as they so richly deserve), and of course, get ready for the new week. I also just realized this is the first Sunday morning I’ve not dreaded the start of my new week, too.
Progress for sure.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines, and will most likely be back some time later. Have a fabulous Sunday in the meantime!
I’ve been sleeping deeply and well lately for an insomniac; I suspect it has more to do with the pain being exhausting than anything else. Any surgery is traumatic to the system and requires rest for recovery, and oral surgery is no different than any other. I’ve taken today off as well as tomorrow; I was thinking yesterday I could probably just go in today and do some paperwork or something, but (and this is not laziness) I started thinking it’s probably best to give myself enough recovery time before I head back in–and I also know the clinic is jam-packed with appointments for today and tomorrow, and I just don’t think I have the energy to deal with that today. I think one more good night’s sleep with probably do the trick.
The Saints won a nail-biter yesterday and I didn’t watch the US Open final; I just can’t with Novak Djokovic anymore. I used to like him until he became an anti-vax/COVID denier, and I can’t with that, I’m sorry. I respect his athleticism, commitment to his sport and being the best, but as a person? I can’t help but feel he’s a selfish, arrogant, borderline sociopathic asshole. Of course he’s entitled to his opinion, but he’s not entitled to me being a fan and watching him play, either. For the record, that’s how it works. I don’t deny him the right to be an anti-vaxxer/COVID denier, but I also don’t have to be a fan or watch him play. We got caught up on Only Murders in the Building and Ahsoka last night, too. I also finished several in-progress blog entries, including the one called “Shame” about homophobia in crime fiction and how things have gotten better over the years–but we can’t forget how bad it used to be, either, which was the point of the post, really; telling the crime community that we’re here, we’re queer, and we’re not going any fucking where.
Get fucking used to us.
Today I am going to try to do some chores around here. I’m feeling like a slug–anxiety talking again; I always feel like I should be doing something and down-time is time wasted–so I think I should do some things today. I suppose it depends on my energy stores, and how long it holds out. I want to read some more of Shawn’s book this morning–I think my resistance to that brutal opening was more of the post-surgery exhaustion–and I also need to empty the dishwasher and do another load that is soaking in the sink. I also want to make something to take for lunch this week–I’m thinking Swedish meatballs in the slow cooker, but am not sure if my minimal chewing abilities can handle the meatballs, even if I cut them up smaller before putting them in my mouth; I don’t think I can swallow them unchewed in some fashion–and I do need to go buy more ice cream and yogurt. I think some of the soups and ramen on hand could be useful. I can’t wait till I can eat a burger again, to be honest.
I also need to answer all the emails that have been languishing in my inbox for quite some time. I owe Dad an email–I’ve not had the strength after Bouchercon and the surgery to face writing him–and my sister’s birthday is this week. I also need to mail something, so I think I’ll drive uptown to make groceries and see what else is possible for soft foods for the week (mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, that sort of thing). I need to get the things on my to-so list knocked out, too. I feel more rested and more myself this morning, but maybe that’s because the pain pills haven’t quite kicked in yet. I also need to start revising/editing Jackson Square Jazz; I’m very excited about that finally being available again, and since Scotty turns twenty-one next year, I kind of want to celebrate the series throughout the year and I don’t know, maybe give away first editions? Something, anyway.
It’s also hard to believe Chanse will be twenty-two in January. I’ve been doing this for over a third of my life now. I owe it all to my stubbornness and obliviousness. Someone smarter and more aware would have probably given up a long time ago, but here I am, still here, older and possibly wiser and certainly not much smarter than I was all these years ago when I was a wide-eyed innocent walking into the world of the published word. I always remember that first August Paul and I lived here back in 1996. We went to a fundraised for the LGBT Center, and there was a tarot card reader there. (I’ve always been fascinated by tarot; I blame the James Bond movie Live and Let Die, which also connected New Orleans and the tarot in my mind. I write about a “private eye” who’s slightly psychic and reads tarot cards and lives in New Orleans. Coincidence? Probably not. Sadly, it’s always been one of my favorite Bond movies and always has held a special place in my brain for introducing me to Bond, New Orleans, and the tarot…unfortunately, the film does NOT hold up forty or fifty years later.) Anyway, the question I thought about as I held the cards in my hand was will I ever be a published writer? The answer the cards gave her was “Yes, but it will not be anything like you think it will be.” A generic answer, yes, that could apply to any number of questions…things are generally never what you thought or imagined they would be. Being a published author is definitely not anything like I ever dreamed or fantasized about when I wasn’t one. I know I thought being published would change my life for the better (I was not wrong about that) but…yes, it’s nothing like what I thought it would be like. Publishing can be a very cold and lonely place, but all you can really control is the work itself. You can’t control whether or not you get published, you can’t control whether or not the book sells, you can’t control the way readers and reviewers will react to it, you can’t control whether you get award recognition. All you actually can control is the writing itself, and do the best you can. I always hope my work is getting better–which should make reediting and revising the original Jackson Square Jazz interesting…
And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close, make another cup of coffee, and start working on the chores around the kitchen, while streaming music through my iHome speakers. I’ll probably check back in later–I have all those unfinished blog entries I need to eventually finish and post–and I also want to get some fiction writing done today as well. Have a great Monday, Constant Reader–do you think today’s photo will get my adult content flags on social media?
Wednesday and we’ve made it to the midpoint of the week. Huzzah? Perhaps. I didn’t sleep all that great last night–I am expected to crash really hard this afternoon–but oddly enough I feel rested and okay and alert this morning, and I am still on my first cup of coffee. Who knew? Last night when I got home from work i buckled down and worked for a bit; I am still behind on everything but I am hoping I can get this manuscript I am editing today finished and back to the author, and then I can sort of maybe get back to my own. My publisher has pushed the publication date back, which is lovely yet not something I am terribly proud of–I feel like I allowed my personal situation to interfere with work, which is something I’ve not done since the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina–but while I was able to work during a pandemic, personal grief managed to derail me so fa this year; but it’s also not fair to blame it all on grief because I was already way behind on everything when Mom actually died. But I am thinking this is really a great thing. The revision, when I was able to do it, was going pretty well; but I wasn’t working the way I usually do which is partly why it was taking me so long to get it done, and I think with a new, later deadline, I can go back to the first chapter and start over again; and do it the way I always do and get it finished.
Paul had a board meeting last night so was later getting home than usual, so I wound up staying up later than I usually do so we could watch this week’s episode of Ted Lasso, which, while having sad moments, was overall a joy to watch. I hate that the season is winding down–which means the series is winding down as well–but I am hoping for at least one spin-off. I love all the characters on this show, even the minor ones; so much characterization and care has been taken with the creation and development of every character on the show, and that has always been its strength. (I still can’t believe that Jamie Tartt has become one of my favorite characters of not just the show but of all time. So many people in the cast deserve Emmys…I hope the producers are smart enough to toss some of them into the Guest Actor categories; certainly the young man playing Colin deserves some recognition for his moving and nuanced portrayal of a closeted soccer player; I also hope he finally introduces his boyfriend to the team as his boyfriend; maybe the series finale?)
I also got some potentially good news that I have to be vague about this morning; there’s no guarantee that the new opportunity that may have opened up for me will come to fruition, but it’s always nice to have something nice happen? Especially in this business, where it seems like you never know where things are going to and nothing is confirmed until the ink dries on the contract, so…yeah, have to be vague if nothing comes of it. But even if nothing does come of it, it was deeply satisfying for the potential to drop into my inbox yesterday. I am very lucky, I must admit; it’s very hard for me to ever feel bitter (or at least, never for very long) about my career because it’s always been charmed, almost from the day I sold my first short story back in 1999; opportunities keep coming my way and it’s been an absolutely lovely joyride. It’s also funny, because I was talking to someone recently about how the good things in my career have usually happened during dark personal times; so I never seem to get to enjoy the good things when they occur. Maybe it’s some kind of karmic balance I need to keep; ma’at, as the Egyptians used to call it–most of the time everything is even, but when things swing too far to the bad in the personal, the professional side of things always seems to pick up for some reason? I don’t know, and it could all turn out to be nothing, but it’s nice, nevertheless. It’s always nice when people are interested in more work for you. And being the socially awkward/insecure person that I am, it’s always a huge relief when someone you’ve worked with asks you for more work; I always worry that I’ve been a pain in the ass to work with…and I don’t want to be one of those people.
My blog post about the origin story of my The Horror photo turned out to be popular? Who knew? I didn’t think it was that interesting of a story, but everyone seemed to enjoy reading about it. It was just something I dashed off during my lunch break yesterday because I was feeling tired but had to wait for my Lean Cuisine (Swedish meatballs, for the record) to cool, and I thought why not write about how that picture came to be taken? Why not indeed?
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.
G’morning, Saturday! How you doing? I slept well, woke up sans alarm, and feel kind of rested and good this morning. The sun is ridiculously bright this morning–it was yesterday as well–but that’s fine. Today is a long day of college football, and I have one errand to run this morning later on. Yesterday was a fairly good day; I got my work done during the day and ran the errands that needed running. I made Swedish meatballs (my version of them, any way) for dinner last night, and we settled in to watch the finale of Bad Sisters and of course, Halloween Ends, which was remarkably different than what I was expecting and despite a slow start, turned out rather interestingly after all.
I did think about the book last night while I was waiting for Paul to be ready for television viewing (and while I was doing some chores and making dinner), so I think I may have some success working on it this morning. I am going to try to get this done, put the dishes away and do some other chores before taking a shower and getting cleaned up to work on the book before I have to run the errands. And while I am of course hoping that Alabama cleans Tennessee’s clock today, the LSU game isn’t until this evening so I have the day pretty much all free heading into that, so there’s no reason I can’t get some writing done today and tomorrow (note to self: check the time of the Saints game today so you can plan accordingly). I don’t need to make another grocery run this weekend–or even order anything for pick-up–so I can pretty much plan on having the time to get things done around here. I have to work Monday morning in the clinic (covering for someone) but I also don’t have to be there until eight-thirty, either. Huzzah!
I also want to start rereading ‘salem’s Lot today; but I also have some other things I want to read as well. There never is enough time for everything, seriously. I have a couple of short stories written by friends that I need to look over (I promised feedback months ago) and I also have that Shirley Jackson Edgar-winning story I want to read, too. At some point I want to drive around the city and take pictures of Halloween decorations too–maybe I can take a walk with my phone tomorrow morning around the neighborhood and the Garden District–because I feel like I don’t document life in New Orleans as much as I should.
But then this blog has never really had a theme other than really just being a kind of diary for me, more than anything else, one where I don’t really talk about personal things as much perhaps as I would in a diary but just a way of situating myself and seeing where and how I am every morning. I have some pending entries that I also need to finish–entries talking about other books I’ve written, other books I’ve read and yet not done an entry for yet–and of course that takes time out of my day every day as well as time away from my other writing. But I do have a rather funny one about Nancy Drew and New Orleans I really should finish sometime–I have a weird love/hate thing with Nancy Drew; my OCD required me to collect and read the entire series, yet she was never really a favorite of mine; there were other juvenile series I vastly preferred to both Nancy and The Hardy Boys–but I had wanted to pay homage to Nancy’s adventures in New Orleans in the new Scotty book, so I reread the two books where Nancy came to New Orleans (The Ghost of Blackwood Hall and The Haunted Showboat) and whoo-boy, were they dated, wrong on almost every level, and horrifyingly racist. (Sidebar: I’ve always wanted to write my own juvenile series, similar to Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, and at the same time I’ve always wanted to write a murder mystery set at a fan convention for one of these series–because I belong to some fan-pages on Facebook and let me tell you, those folks are interesting)
I also have my entry about Donna Andrews’ marvelous Round Up the Usual Peacocks to finish, and I also have a rather lengthy entry about Interview with the Vampire I think I’ll wait to finish until I am done with watching the show.
I am not going to lie, I was curious about Halloween Ends primarily because I absolutely hated the second film in this sequel/reboot series, or whatever the hell it is considered. I was impressed by the creative decisions made on how to handle this absolutely, finally the last chapter (the end definitively ends it, trust me); but I am not entirely sure how I felt about the focus being moved off Laurie and Michael Myers. I guess I was a little disappointed–I was hoping to see, I guess, a balls-to-the-wall Laurie v. Michael battle, which we did kind of get, but it also wasn’t the primary focus of the film? I appreciated the new story as well as the new cast members like Rohan Campbell (who plays Frank on Hulu’s The Hardy Boys reboot), but I came away a little disappointed, but that was due to my own expectations, not any failure of the film itself. (I was also really amused to no end that Kyle Richards of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, who played one of the kids Laurie babysits in the very original Halloween, was brought back to reprise the role in the new trilogy. After listening to her talk about “filming” all season, and “having to focus on learning her lines” while dealing with RHOBH drama…only to watch the actual film to see she has exactly two scenes and at most five lines made me laugh out loud–and of course, Paul shadily said “I find it really hard to believe a bartender in Haddonfield could afford all that plastic surgery” which sent me into gales of laughter. I did enjoy the movie, though, and appreciated the different direction it took. If you’re a fan of Halloween, I think you’ll enjoy it, too–but understand it’s different going in.
All right, on that note I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and GEAUX TIGERS!
I used to think you could never be too far from Texas, in all honesty, despite my deep appreciation and affection not only for Houston (I lived there for a time) but for all my marvelous friends in Texas. Murder by the Book, the only mainstream mystery bookstore that would allow me to have events in their store when I first published, always holds a deep place of affection within my heart and soul; I love that store, and of course, I also love me some Whataburger.
Whataburger alone makes Texas worth visiting, to be honest.
The Chanse MacLeod series was originally going to be set in Houston. I created him, and actually started writing about him, while i lived in Texas from 1989-1991. I remember distinctly that he had an office and a pager, as well as a secretary and an off-hours answering service…clearly, I didn’t understand how private investigators actually worked and was basing everything off movies, books, and television programs. But I do recall the name of the first book was going to be The Body in the Bayou–and Chanse was also straight in his original iteration–and it wasn’t until later (after my birthday visit here in 1994) that I decided to move it to New Orleans, and of course by the time I started rewriting the New Orleans version, I’d discovered gay mysteries and so of course, I changed his sexuality (I’ve never once regretted that either, I might add). I also put The Body in the Bayou aside and started writing a whole new murder mystery for him (Murder in the Rue Dauphine) that eventually became my first published book. Chanse remained from Texas–a small town in east Texas called Cottonwood Wells–and I even wrote a short story where Chanse goes back home to that small town. (I’d always wanted to write a book where he goes back home and has to deal with memories and so forth; I just never got around to it and his original publisher always made the sign of the cross at me whenever I suggested, “hey, should I set the next one in Chanse’s home town, where he has to go to clear up a crime someone from his past is accused of?”) Cottonwood Wells also popped up in earlier drafts of #shedeservedit, as where main character Alex’ family was originally from; that eventually got edited out over the final drafts.
Sunday morning and I slept late, and even after waking, stayed in the bed for a while longer. It felt very comfortable and my body was very relaxed, which was lovely, and I didn’t really want to get out of the bed, to be honest. I made swedish meatballs last night for dinner and left the mess for this morning (I am now cursing lazy Greg last night who made that decision–part of the reason I made this decision was I realized while cooking that the dishwasher had a clean load in it that needed to be put away, and it was a pain in the ass to do while cooking and trying to time everything) and I didn’t really want to come downstairs and face the mess. I did get some cleaning and organizing done yesterday–I did the kitchen floors at long last–and I also worked on the living room some. I wrote about fifteen hundred words yesterday to flex my writing muscles a little bit–I’ll probably go back over them again today as I write more–and I also have to get the proofs for Streetcar significantly finished today. I also want to work on the new Scotty a little bit as well. We’ll see how much I can get done this morning/afternoon before Paul gets up–although he is going to go into the office today; there was a lot of thunderstorms yesterday and street flooding, so he and the IT guy rescheduled for today (can’t say as I blame him, we were in and out of flash flood alerts all day yesterday; the joys of the tropics in the summer) which will free up this afternoon for proofing.
My self-care appointment (okay, it was a back wax; someday I will write an essay about my issues with body hair) went well and after that, I swung by and picked up the mail. On my way back home I stopped at the Fresh Market (I rarely shop there; I always forget it’s there) to get a few things, and while it is more expensive than other places, I like shopping there. The fruit and vegetables always seem much fresher, and rather than buying prepackaged ground sirloin, I instead got it from the butcher counter, remembering suddenly that it’s fresher that way–and those meatballs turned out superlatively. I think in the future I might shop there a little more regularly. They don’t carry everything I would need, of course–that would make life too easy–but for meats and fruit and vegetables…well, it really cannot be beaten. I spent some more time with In the Dark We Forget–which I am also going to do this morning for a bit, it’s really good and I want to find out what happened to Cleo and her parents–for the rest of this morning, and then I need to vacuum the living room at some point (I swept up the floor in there last night as well, and tried to get it to look cleaner and better organized in there as well; it’s amazing what a difference the clean floor makes). So, a busy busy day for one Gregalicious. But that’s fine, I kind of like having things to do…it’s just when I have so much to do the thought of it is soul-crushing and defeating that I don’t like it.
We started watching The Anarchists on HBO MAX last night, and it’s….something, all right. It’s also interesting how these people chose to define “anarchy” as something other than what most people generally accept it as meaning; but they were using the actual definition of anarchy rather than the societal definition. I always laugh at people who think that laws and rules and regulations are things that restrict freedom and are unnecessary in a society; it’s really just another branch of libertarianism or Ayn Rand’s insane “objectivism”–those laws and rules and regulations exist because they were necessary, because human beings tend to always operate by putting their own needs first. Regulations exist because food manufacturers regularly sold bad, or dangerous, food to the general public because there were no regulations and no one keeping them honest; robber barons created monopolies to exploit the public and make themselves rich (Bezos, Musk, etc are simply the modern day version of the robber barons) at the expense of the needy; hence we needed government intervention to prevent abuses. I’ve never understood the mentality of “oh, if we do away with regulations and laws and rules we’ll all live together in peaceful harmony” because there’s always at least ONE asshole in every group.
ALWAYS.
And on that note, I am going to make another cup of coffee, put the clean dishes away, and go read for a bit. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and we’ll talk again tomorrow, if not later. (I’ve been going down the Stevie Nicks discography for my titles, and some of them–along with some of them from other song lists I was using before–wind up having the same titles as some of my books, and I’ve decided–see yesterday’s post about Sleeping Angel–that when I have a blog list song title that matches the title of one of my books, I am going to post about the book. Right now, I have Timothy in my stored draft blogs folder, and I think there’s another called “Watching Scotty Grow” in which I am trying to write the history of the series, which could be helpful as I am writing Book Nine at the moment, and since I am doing Stevie’s discography, that means Sara will also be coming up at some point.)
Holiday Monday, which is celebrating Juneteenth (if you want to know more about the holiday, this is a great place to start). It’s hard to believe, and more than a little sad, that it took until recently for this to become a federally recognized holiday. Honestly.
Better late than never, I suppose–which is hardly any consolation, really.
But it’s nice to have another three-day weekend (I can’t remember which holiday we gave up for this one at my dayjob, but we only are allowed no more than eight holidays for some reason), and I slept late again this morning. The cappuccino yesterday morning had no effect on my sleep, so I am having another one this morning, which is lovely. I really do love the way they taste; I just wish making them wasn’t so complicated and dirtied up so much stuff. I made Swedish meatballs yesterday afternoon and that mess still needs to be cleaned up as well. Heavy sigh. What can I say? I got caught up in watching television once the meal was ready and stayed in my easy chair until it was time for bed. We watched the new episode of Becoming Elizabeth, which isn’t bad but it’s not overly compelling either–which is weird, because the period between Henry VIII’s death in 1547 and Elizabeth’s accession to the throne in 1558 was very fraught and very dangerous (Anya Seton brilliantly captured this period in her seminal novel Green Darkness, which I highly recommend along with the warning “it’s quite long”); but it’s not really translating to the screen very well in this production. I also spent some more time with John Copenhaver’s marvelous The Savage Kind, which I hope to do again today.
We also started watching an amazing show on Netflix that originally dropped in 2020 and whose second season was endlessly delayed by the pandemic (I checked it out on-line as we watched) called The Defeated starring Taylor Kitsch as a Brooklyn homicide detective who is “loaned” to a small precinct in the American sector of Berlin in 1946 to help rebuild their station along American police standards; which is a challenge. None of the people working as cops there have any experience in being police officers; some are young boys while the majority are women. The Germans aren’t allowed to have guns, so they have an “arsenal” where they keep their bedposts and other wooden sticks; the Russians are horrible; and Kitsch himself is looking for his brother, a soldier with mental problems who’s gone AWOL and whom Kitsch suspects is targeting and murdering Nazis. It’s extremely well done–think Babylon Berlin but only in another twenty years–and it also asks a lot of ethical and moral questions that really don’t have answers. The woman who runs the station, is the “superintendent” or captain of the squad–wasn’t a Nazi but her protestations about “we weren’t all Nazis” have the same credibility of a prisoner at Angola claiming innocence: no one admits to being a Nazi once the war was lost, after all. At one point she says, very poignantly, “The war is over and the entire world hates us because of what we did, or allowed, and who can blame them?” This seems particularly poignant given the current political climate in our country; I know it seems extreme, but I’ve seen other people comment on Twitter and other social media about how they feel sometimes like “they are living in Weimar Germany and it’s just a matter of time.”
I know I’ve certainly felt that way at times.
We also watched a classic old Bette Davis film, The Letter, which I’d realized I’d never seen yesterday so I pulled it up and started watching. I had read the original short story by Somerset Maugham a few years ago for the Short Story Project, and enjoyed it tremendously. The story is told from the lawyer’s point of view, while the movie certainly shifts the focus over to Leslie Crosbie, wife of a Malaysian rubber plantation owner, who shoots and kills a man she accuses of trying to rape her. Everyone believes Leslie…but you see, there is this letter that exists that contradicts her story, and the more lies she tells, the less her lawyer believes her–although he ultimately pays a blackmailer to get the letter back so she escapes conviction. In the story it’s all from the lawyer’s point of view; she’s merely the wife of a friend he is taking on as a favor, and he doesn’t know her well…but as he (the lawyer) discovers the existence of the letter and recovers it, he slowly begins to see through her lies and to see her as she really is. He doesn’t expose her–he allows her to escape her punishment–but he confronts her with the letter after the verdict and she confesses everything…only to return to her loveless marriage at the rubber plantation. The story and the movie both are steeped with the Imperialistic and racist overtones of the time the story was written and the film made; the ending of the movie is different than that of the story because of course, for the Hays Code of the time she couldn’t be seen as not being “punished” for her crime; she is murdered at the end by the Eurasian widow of the man she killed (his marriage to this mixed-race woman is what sets the tragedy in motion) during a party celebrating her verdict. There was one scene in particular that really made me shake my head: after she has told her story of being almost raped and committing murder to protect herself, she makes dinner for her husband, a friend of the family, and the local police magistrate and they sit around eating and talking about things like nothing’s happened. As we watched this season, Paul–who had no idea of what the movie was about–said, “Oh, he didn’t try to rape her, did he? She’s a cold-blooded killer.” GREG: “It’s Bette Davis, what do you think?”
Although it did make me think about false accusations of rape again, which is one of the myriad of reasons women generally tend to not be believed about being assaulted. There’s probably a really good essay to be written about that.
I also wrote yesterday, which was really lovely. I managed to get the first chapter of that manuscript written; I plan to look at it again today and tweak it a bit. I have a lengthy errand to run–must go over to the North Shore–and when I get home, I plan to write for a while before retiring to my easy chair with my Copenhaver book (I am really enjoying it, y’all) before we finish watching The Defeated (y’all, it’s really good). I’m not sure if what I wrote yesterday is actually any good or not; it remains to be seen, I suppose, and let’s face it, I am not (nor have I ever been) the best judge of my own work. But we shall see today, I suppose. It felt good to be creating again and it felt good to be finishing something, even if it’s just a shitty draft. I’d like to be able to get a lot more written today, if I can…
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Talk soon, Constant Reader!
Queer and Loathing in America 