Murder in the Irish Channel by Greg Herren

Today I finished Greg Herren's latest Chanse MacLeod mystery, "Murder in the Irish Channel," and it's a really good read.  It features a missing mother and a whole host of people who have a reason for wanting her dead.  Hired by her son, an MMA fighter, Chanse has to find out who would benefit most from her death or disappearance.  Lots of distractions and red herrings, leading to a satisfying (and fairly unexpected) ending.  I like those mysteries that surprise me, but where all the clues were laid out (no deus ex machina).

While the story was great, and lord knows Herren has a real talent for creating memorable characters, what most impresses me about his books is the way he brings New Orleans to life.  The city is just as important a character as Chanse or any of the others who feature in this series.

Every time I read one of his books, I just want to get on a plane and head down there.

Zombiality: A Queer Bent on Zombie Fiction

Yesterday I finished reading an anthology of short zombie stories featuring some LGBT aspect, "Zombiality: A Queer Bent of Zombie Fiction."  Overall it was okay, but frankly, a lot of the stories sounded like they came from a creative writing class.

That said, one of them was terrific - "Sweetness" by B.C. Edwards.  A great little story about a couple, one who has been infected with a virus that causes the person to become basically undead.  It starts with a sweetness in the back of the throat, that eventually sends the person into madness.  The story did a particularly good job about showing the difficulty of an infected person dealing with his fate, and the strain on his relationship (his boyfriend starts running with a group of zombie killers).

The best thing about this was its explanation of why zombies become flesh-eaters.  It was a nice twist, and really well done.  Worth checking out.

Take 2

Since I'm still hardly ever using this, I think I'm going to start using this as my reading list.  Maybe that will get me back into blogging.  Or not.  But at least I can keep track of the books I read.

So this weekend I read the latest Gale Carriger book, "Timeless," the fifth book in the Alexia Tarabotti/Parasol Protectorate series.  Yet another marvelous story about vampires, werewolves and other preternaturals in Victorian England.  Lots of steampunk influences and a wicked sense of humor abound.  And two of my favorite characters in the series finally hooked up.  A fun read.

Letting Go

I'm a pack rat.  I mean, I'm no Collyer brother, but well, let's just say I'm more like them than is probably healthy (I'm still way better off than anyone on those hoarder shows).

That said, I've been reading a ton of minimalist blogs recently and have started looking for ways to get my house in order, literally.  The hard part is that I have too many attachments to what I own.  First, there is the obvious sentimental attachment - "I can't throw that away, it was a gift from..." or "it reminds me of a time when..." (concert t-shirts, programs, my rugby kit, tons and tons of keepsakes, etc.)

The second is the attachment that says, "but I may need/want that in the future".  Clothes that no longer fit?  I'll get back into them someday.  Receipts, tax returns?  I may need them.  Old textbooks?  Well, you never know.

So I'm trying to get over that.  I have a deal with my coach that I will tackle this huge-ass pile of crap in front of my dresser in the weeks to come.  Looking at it, I have no idea where to the stuff is going to go, though I do know (hope) quite a bit of it can be tossed.

In an effort to make some room, I decided to start with something easy.  Porn.

I can't remember the last time I even looked at a porn tape.  Has to have been 5 or 6 years at least.  Probably longer than that.  And I have a rather prodigious collection.  So I started throwing it out.  Oddly, I had those first little feelings of worry (maybe I should sell this, maybe I should keep it...), but once I started bagging it up, worry gone.  I couldn't care less about it.

Now let's see if I can keep up that feeling when I start in on my wardrobe.  Or, God help me, my books.

Chalk one up for my moral compass

I have some marvelously embarassing photos of a famous playwright.  Rather than show them to everyone I know, I took the moral high road and deleted them.

Karma owes me a pony.

Damn you, Easy Listening Station

So I'm in my office and the radio is playing.  Harry Chapin's "Cat's in the Cradle" comes on, and 15 seconds into it, I'm crying.  I had to turn the bloody thing off.

FML.

I assume these little emotional ninja attacks go away at some point.  But that will suck in a completely different way.

Glee

So what does it say about me that the character I'm most attracted to on the show is the homophobic bully?

Totally fucked up.

Re: Lent

It isn't technically "watching TV" if I watch an episode of Better Off Ted on my computer.

No reviews at this time, it's late, but I read three books this weekend, Best Gay Erotica 2010, Best Gay Romance 2010, and Sense and Sensibitity.

"No pain no --" "STFU!"

After a bitch of a day at work, I had my second "new project" workout with my trainer.  My plan is this - no matter how bad it is, I won't bitch.  He tells me to do it, and I do.  If I can't do it, I take a rest and try again.

He seems to like this approach.

Everything aches right now, but that's just how it is.

Whatever.

At least I have a four day weekend coming up.  Which I have to spend working out, and writing, and surreptitiously taking care of work stuff so I don't come back to absolute chaos.

You know, when I gave up TV, I assumed that it would free up some time.  But I have had so much less free time than before.  How the hell is that even possible?

Mantra

I will be happy for my friends when good things happen to them.  I will be happy for my friends when good things happen to them.  I will be happy for my friends when good things happen to them.*













*Mostly

"I know. That's what makes me so nice."

My trainer told me today that I'm his new project.  He doesn't feel like we're making progress and has determined that we - meaning I - need to step it up a few notches.  Or as he so succinctly put it, "I'm going to kill you this month."

Well, if today was any indication, he may very well do just that.  The name of the game was interval training - work out for a set time, take a 30 second break, work out for another set amount of time, take a 30 second break, ad nauseam (literally).  We did this for 45 min. or so, then I got to stretch.

I'm exhausted.  Between work and the theatre blogs and everything else, I'm just so damn tired.

But whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger.  And if it does kill us, well, that's that.

Pissing into the wind

Every once in a while the self-doubt gets overwhelming, and it feels like everything I do is futile.  Why do I write, create, try?  It seems that I put things out there to a world that doesn't want them.

It's so easy not to.  To quote Wicked (sorry about that), "those who don't try never look foolish."  So why do I keep trying?

Anyway, today is a big old self-doubt day.  However, I'm going to "beast through it," as my trainer frequently exhorts me to do when we're working out.

Maybe no one gives a fuck about what I write.  Fine.  I'm still going to write it.  And while I feel like I'm not getting any validation right now, that's just my self-doubt talking.  When I'm in a better place, I won't feel this way.

One week

One week with no TV.  I've been writing a lot for my various blogs.  I've gotten stuff done around the house.  I've caught up with friends and family without surreptitiously trying to watch Family Guy while only half-listening to them.  I've read a couple of books.  I've downloaded music.  I've gone to the gym.  I've cooked.

All sorts of cool and exciting stuff.

That said, I'm so damn tired I could vomit.

Balance.  I've got to work on balance.

Well, that was grim

Just went through and updated my blogroll. Where the hell is everybody?

Broadway Backwards

A few comments about tonight's Broadway Backwards event to raise money for the LGBT Center and Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS:

1. I would gay-marry Len Cariou at the drop of a hat. Granted, he's a little outside my normal age range, but damn . . . that voice, that acting.

2. Hearing the LGBT Center Youth Chorus sing "Children Will Listen" was amazing.

3. Mario Cantone is fracking awesome.

4. There are some hot chorus boys in this town.

5. If someone had told me at 8 years old that one day I would attend an event where I would see Mrs. Brady and Mrs. Cunningham make out on stage, I wouldn't have believed them. And I probably would have been upset by having a grown up talk to me about girls kissing.

Mixed blessing

Called my stepmom today, and for the first time in six months got the answering machine. It was my dad's voice.

Once I was done crying, I realized it was really, really nice to hear it again.

Now I think I'm going to cry a little more.

Social

I've gotten into the habit over the past few weeks of meeting one of my Astoria friends for brunch on Sundays. We just go to a diner and catch up.

I've gotten out of the habit of this kind of socializing. Most of my friends are couples now, so they naturally want to spend time together. The others tend to live in (or want to meet in) Manhattan, which makes brunch kind of a schlep.

I like just being able to walk a couple of blocks to a neighborhood diner where I see the same people week after week. Kind of like a diner version of Cheers - everybody knows your name (but it being Astoria, the name is most likely Greek).

It's energizing being able to talk about the good things that are going on in my life (or the bad, depending on the week). We encourage each other in our lofty goals and our day-to-day struggles. It's nice.

Plus, I don't have to travel by subway to get there or back.

It's easy for me to forget to explore and enjoy my neighborhood. Hopefully, I'll start doing more of it.

What I've been up to

I've stopped watching TV for Lent. So far not so bad, but I'm only on my fifth day.

What I've discovered is that I watch way too much TV. I'm kind of amazed at how much time this has freed up. I'm doing a lot of writing and reading, which is pretty cool.

Along those lines, I've decided to make more of an effort to keep up with the blog.

Since I haven't been doing too much, I thought I'd focus on the books I've been reading. Last week it was Deja Dead by Kathy Reichs and A Lion Among Men by Gregory Maguire.

In both cases, I enjoyed aspects of the books, but neither were ones that I imagine I'll read again.

Deja Dead was Reichs debut novel. I've also read Deadly Decisions, Fatal Voyage and Grave Secrets. Not really going in order, but no big deal.

I keep thinking I should give these books a chance to grow on me, and I keep getting disappointed. Part of it is that I came to Reichs' books from watching "Bones" on TV. As a result, my image of Tempe Brennan is based on Emily Deschanel's portrayal, and on Hart Hanson's writing (although Reichs' has written for the series as well, I think Hanson's influence is stronger). The Tempe Brennan in Reichs' books is not much like the one on TV, and what it comes down to is I like TV's Tempe Brennan better.

The story is good: a series of murders in Montreal, a link that Brennan discovers, a search for the killer, Brennan fighting for her life and possibly that of her best friend and daughter. All good stuff. The problem is that Reichs' tends to get into the minutiae of forensic science, often bringing the story to a screeching halt while she describes the science behind the various tests. I don't really need to know how the tests work, just tell me the results. Not to say that it isn't interesting, I just want to keep going with the story.

A Lion Among Men is the third in Gregory Maguire's Oz series. I also read Wicked and Son of a Witch. I feel like I should like these books better than I do. I like the stories, the interesting and complex characters, and the sprawling, messy Oz that Maguire envisions. I just always feel vaguely dissatisfied by the books.

I do like Maguire's writing style, so I think I will try some of his other books and see what I think.

Anyway

So, I'm back. Kind of.

We'll see.

Say No to H8

I went to the protest at the Mormon temple tonight. Amazing turnout. CW 11 News was saying 5,000 protesters. Fox 5 said 1,000 (uh huh). CNN's Campbell Brown was saying there were hundreds, then went off on a tangent about us protesting Mormons and black churches. I think she may be retarded. Or, more likely, she's just the latest symptom of the infotainmentization (yes, I just made up a word. Sue me.) of CNN. It's gotten to the point that I can barely watch it.

Anyway, I started off the protest standing next to Whoopi Goldberg and Judy Gold. Very cool.

Eventually, the cops closed off Broadway and started shooing people away from the temple and sending us to Columbus Circle. As I headed toward the R to come home, I was passed by probably 30 NYPD squad cars, lights and sirens blasting, as they raced toward Columbus Circle. Clearly, they were caught a little off-guard by all the homos with signs. I'll give them this, they stayed polite, despite some inappropriate things said to them by some of the younger and . . . impulse-control challenged. Don't know what everyone else's experiences were, but I thought they did well.

I'm a little disappointed that the protest moved beyond the temple. Personally, I think that's where we should focus our efforts. Keep people outside it with signs and banners for a week or two.

I read an interesting press relese from one of the poobahs in the Mormon church, saying it was unfair that they were being singled out.

Tough.

At the direct request of their leaders, Mormons gave over $22,000,000 to pass Props. 8 and 102.

$22,000,000.

Now they feel picked on. Well, boo-fucking-hoo.

As Al Jolson said, you ain't seen nothing yet.

Right, Mr. Eckern?