Tag: WLS

In the Mood

Someone really needs to do one of those music-themed crime anthologies built around either big band music, or the music of the Andrews Sisters; and In the Mood would be a great title for it, wouldn’t it? Don’t @ me, I’m not interesting in doing another anthology, thank you very much, praise Jesus and hope the creek don’t rise.

I was right; I got very mentally fatigued yesterday afternoon, and last night after we finished watching the second season of Euphoria, I was basically falling asleep in my chair. I’d swear we watched something else, too; oh yes, a stand-up comic special on Netflix, but I can’t remember the name of the comedian. I feel much more awake and alive today, which is a very good thing. I also feel a little bit behind this morning, and I am–not sure what that is about, but I am a bit off, too, I think, which is weird. But I enjoyed finishing the show–not sure if it’s coming back again or not, but the second season finale definitely wrapped everything up, so if it doesn’t the stories are pretty much finished for the most part. Zendaya was terrific–the whole cast, really; Paul and I were amused that the most level, centered and likable character on the show was Fez the drug dealer. Jacob Elordi is also memorable as sociopath Nate–casting beautiful people as monsters is genius, really.

I also didn’t write yesterday–the brain fatigue thing again, but at least this time it wasn’t the fog, you know? I do think I am starting to get back to normal, or what passes for it at any rate. It’s normal to be tired after not sleeping well. It’s normal to feel off after finally getting a good night’s sleep again. I was very tired when I got home, wasn’t I? I have some errands to run tonight, too–and tomorrow I am taking workout clothes for me to change into at work so I can go to the gym afterwards, see if this theory of changing at work and going directly there afterwards will work–we shall see, shan’t we?

One thing that I’ve been doing lately is submersing myself in the music of the 1970s, to help get myself more into the right space to write this book when I am ready to get started on it, and frankly, Top Forty music of the period–with a few exceptions–was awful and cheesy and terrible. So many novelty songs (“The Streak” by Ray Stevens jumps to mind, and there were so many others), so much cheese (Tony Orlando & Dawn, and so many other offenders), and some frankly terrible recordings surrounding the few gems that I don’t know how I listened to it growing up. But we did; both my sister and I always had our radios tuned into either WLS or WCFL for hours every day. I am trying to get the prologue to this finished this week, as well as revising another short story whose deadline is this weekend, and still really trying to get everything organized and sorted. I put some short story anthology call deadlines on my calendar yesterday, which was a nice start to get better organized, and I think, besides this book I want to finish, I am going to spend a lot of this summer trying to do more short stories. I also want to get the introduction to the short story collection finished by Monday, and a first chapter of the new Scotty done.

But my immersion in music of the early 1970’s–and other pop culture aspects of the time; television was also mostly garbage back then, too; thanks censors–also led me back around to listen to the eponymous first album by Boston in the car over the last two years, and it still holds up. It’s quite excellent, although I suppose it would be considered excessive nowadays; as rock music pushed boundaries in that decade and became more orchestral, especially in the second half of the decade. There’s not a song on that album that’s not a bop (in modern parlance), and it also put me in mind of other favorite albums from throughout my life–and making a list of them. I’ve always had a soundtrack album for my life, and revisiting music always brings back a lot of memories. Listening to the Billboard Top 100 of 1973 (awful as it was) made me remember other things–like Romper Room, Captain Kangaroo, Bozo’s Circus, and Ray Raynor’s show; the Saturday morning cartoons; and the horrible variety shows that were everywhere back then and finally died out in the early 1980’s. I really want this book to be good, and I’m going to have to go to a very dark place to write this book, too, and make it as real as possible…which is why I am immersing myself in the early 1970s. I am also reminding myself I can change things in the suburb to fit my writing needs; it doesn’t have to be exact, just as Bury Me in Shadows didn’t have to be correct about the homeplace. (My mind can be very annoying at times.)

But I feel good this morning, both mentally and physically. After work tonight I need to get the mail and make some groceries (not much, just a replace some things run) and then it’s home to write, possibly make dinner, and finish some chores. I am going to head into the spice mines now, so have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back probably later.

Rocks Off

That’s a rather charming title for a blog post, isn’t it? As you may have noticed, I generally pick a list of songs to use as titles for the blog, and I am currently (perhaps obviously) now working my way through the Rolling Stones’ extensive discography, which will occasionally provide something a little off-color (the best was the Pet Shop Boys; every song title sounds like a great essay title about gay life), like today. Today’s title just makes me think of sex and “getting your rocks off”; I don’t think I am familiar with the actual song, in all honesty, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that was the gist of the song.

Whatever gets your rocks off, man.

Ah, the 1970s were such a different time, weren’t they? I’ve been going down a lot of 1970s wormholes lately, not just for the sake of the nostalgia afforded (all those lovely memories of the Top Forty AM stations in Chicago, WLS and WCFL, that I grew up with; WGN before it became a nation-wide cable channel) but because it’s also a bit of research, you see. Yes, after I finish writing the book I am writing and editing the one I turned in last month and then editing the one I am turning in at the end of this month, I plan on writing Chlorine and a different book I’ve been planning for a while, but after that I am thinking about a 1970’s book–or a romance; I can’t decide which I would prefer to do next. Romance is a whole new ball game for me, which is part of the appeal, but then I look at Romancelandia on Twitter and think, yeah, not so sure I want to go swimming with those sharks. I’m not even sure what precisely is going on in that world anymore, either; I don’t know if RWA ever recovered from the “burn it all to the ground” December of 2019, and I think Romantic Times has also gone away? It’s funny, though, every time I dip my toes into the waters of another genre something inevitably will run me screaming back to crime fiction, my publishing safe space as it were. I do feel like doing something completely different from everything I’ve done already–it’s always fun and challenging to go in another direction than you usually do, and I think it helps me with my mystery writing, frankly–but I am not sure if a romance is the way to go. I have what I think is a great idea for one, but….it’s not like I haven’t thought that before, either.

Of course, writing what would be best for my career and my “brand” (whatever that may be) never enters my head. Which is probably why I am not a New York Times bestseller and a household name–yeah, that’s why, Greg.

But I went to my doctor’s appointment and am pleased to report that the arm was just a pulled muscle and lingering tendonitis (he added that I should keep it wrapped until the swelling goes does–yes, there is some weird swelling), got my prescriptions refilled, and started the process rolling that will hopefully result in my getting hearing aids at long last. My weight was high, but my blood pressure was also fine and all vitals were good, so…yay for that at any rate. And now I find myself home earlier than usual and more time to work on my writing than I ordinarily would, so hurray! I also got Art Taylor’s new short story collection The Adventures of the Castle Thief and Other Expeditions and Indiscretions, from Crippen and Landru (order direct from them! It’s better for everyone!), which is very exciting–Art is one of our best crime short story writers, period, and has won every possible award in crime fiction for short story writing at least once, and I love his work. I started reading Abby Collette’s Body and Soul Food while I waited for my appointment and it’s off to a really good start, which is very cool.

I am really excited about the hearing aids, Constant Reader, you have no idea. I’ve always had trouble hearing conversations in crowded restaurants and whenever there’s ambient noise, and it’s gotten progressively worse as I’ve gotten older. (I smile and nod a lot…) And since I’ve long since stopped caring how I look, who cares if people can see me with my hearing aids in? (I wish I’d stopped caring about that a lot sooner than I did, frankly.) So once I get this done and a load of dishes in the dishwasher and a load of clothes going in the washing machine, I am going to dive headfirst into my book and see what I can get finished today.

So, best to head into the spice mines else I’ll never get started.