Exhaustion

I had to bug out with Princess Bella early this morning because of...wait for it...

JACKHAMMERS!

IN OUR BASEMENT!

A waterproofing crew is doing some work on our basement in an effort to keep it from turning into an indoor swimming pool again.

The princess pup already gets riled up when strange humans enter her yard, much less her home. So when men come in with their strange and loud tools of destruction, she must be taken elsewhere because the noise is simply too painful for delicate canine ears.

Today, we spent our time at the house of DH's baby sister where we did what we usually do--share breakfast and then she naps on my lap while I write.

I hope the rest of you had a peaceful late summer day!

Another Trek Theme Alteration

Somehow, this one fits.

Head Colds and Allergies

Goldenrod and ragweed are in the midst of hot plant sex in our area, so I'm already miserable. I also made the mistake of remarking to some friends that with the mask and social distance mandates, I haven't been ill since December of 2019.

In my hubris, the great god Murphy took the opportunity to strike me down with a summer cold.

I'm struggling through some edits, and I'll try to write during my sprint time with a friend later tonight. In the meantime, I sucking down fluids, staying away from DH, and praying this doesn't turn into a sinus infection.

Coronavirus Pandemic Day 524 - Will Monday Movie Mania Ever Come Back?

Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, I had a regular feature on my blog where I reviewed whatever motion picture DH and I had seen at the local theater over the weekend.

Back in the early days of our marriage, Friday was date night. We hit a local restaurant and went to see a movie. EVERY Friday. When Oscar nominations came out, we'd viewed nearly every nominee. Those we hadn't seen yet? Well, that was the mission--see them before the actual awards broadcast.

Once GK was born, we had to back off on trips to the theater until he was old enough to go with us.

I was thrilled when 2020 rolled around. There were lots of things scheduled for release I wanted to see. GK was off being an adult. And DH and I started off with Birds of Prey.

That turned out to be the last movie we saw in the theater. When I returned from a writers' workshop, we discussed seeing Bloodshot at the theater. I didn't feel comfortable going since I tend to pick up every germ in a ten-mile radius. The following Monday, Governor DeWine shut down Ohio.

We've resorted to watching new or recent releases on one of the various streaming services we subscribe to. Granted, it's not the same as being in a theater with greasy popcorn and a zillion mouthbreathers.

However, I don't know if the change in venue is affecting my perceptions, or if the movies I would normally love have truly gone downhill.

Wonder Woman '84 could have been better. Bloodshot was boring even by Vin Diesel standards And don't get me started about The Suicide Squad.

Stellar cast, stellar director, and a what-the-holy-fuck script.

I know things won't be the same after the pandemic, but I'm damn well going to deliver better entertainment in my books than the crap I've been watching lately.

You people deserve it.

Yes, There Is a Theme This Month

TGIF! TGIF! TGIF!

After a couple of nights of decent sleep, I felt halfway decent this morning. We have steady electricity, hot water, and A/C again.

Tonight, DH and I are doing Mexican food and watching The Suicide Squad. Tomorrow, we'll work on the yard and flower beds. Sunday, we're meeting some friends from Cincinnati for brunch.

Frankly, I can use the breather.

What are y'all up to this weekend?

When Your Body Just Says "Nope!"

DH and I have been on a fricking roller coaster for nearly two months now. Our first grandchild was born (YAY!), but we came home to six feet of water in the basement of our new house. We've been dealing with insurance, plumbers, electricians, HVAC people, etc. while working full-time.

And today, my body said, "Fuck this shit!"

I was up at 7:30 am like I have been nearly every day for the past week and a half (any friends reading this will be laughing their asses off because they KNOW I'm NOT a morning person) because the repair/placement folks start early. Today, I didn't have a choice. DH was headed to a medical appointment, and the HVAC folks were finishing the furnace installation.

My sole job was to keep the princess pup out of the way until DH got home. I fell asleep reading, which is something I never do, despite all the banging downstairs and the cherry limeade can of Reign I'd had for breakfast in an effort to stay awake. Luckily, Bella slept with me and didn't try to go downstairs to supervise the crew. The HVAC guys were done by 10 am because the thermostat they'd ordered hadn't arrived, and that's the very last thing they need to do.

Once they left, I was still exhausted. I crawled into bed, thinking I'd nap for an hour or two.

Six hours later, a rather loud crash of thunder woke me. So I got some lunch and started going through e-mails.

And I'm still tired. I don't think I'll have any problems falling asleep tonight.

Coronavirus Pandemic Day 517 - What Will Happen When the Healthcare Workers Give Up?

In the U.S., we stand at 36,319,708 known cases of COVID-19 and 627,018 known deaths from the disease.

Yet, people continue to refuse to get the vaccine.

I read this anguished essay from a doctor last week. She echoes the things I'm hearing from friends who are in various medical positions. The amount of people pleading for someone to save them when all they had to do was get a free vaccine shot is horrible.

The healthcare profession are considered essential workers. They haven't the luxury of Netflix and chilling for the last seventeen months. And a lot of them have caught COVID-19 and died because of the lack of PPE and any vaccines.

So, for those of you who haven't gotten or refuse to get one of the vaccines for reasons that have nothing to do with your own health issues, what are you gong to do when the entire healthcare system breaks, mentally and physical, over the strain of trying to take care of those, like you, who refuse to take care of themselves?

What are those of us who need the healthcare system for things other than COVID-19? Believe me, you have no idea how much I wish cancer could be dealt with in one or two shots!

Look, take a ten-minute visit to your pharmacist. A quick poke, maybe two, depending on which vaccine they have in stock, and it's done. If any one was going to have major side-effects from the damn shot, it would have been me. But, nope, nary a sniffle.

Please get the vaccine! I don't want you to die!

And Now for Something Completely Different!

Presented without further comment...

What the F***, RWA!?!

The inaugural Vivian Awards of the Romance Writers of America were held last Saturday night.

[Full disclosure: I was a member of RWA from 2004 thru 2012. I've lost track of how many contests I judged in RWA, and frankly, it's not an easy job. I left because of how they treated erotic romance, gay romance, and ebooks. Their educational programs are fabulous, but the inbred weirdness of the Board and the management got to be too much for me. I also have several writer friends who are still members, and that's their choice.]

After the controversial handling of what amounted to a publisher's complaint against a POC member, the entire Board disintegrated. Board members quit in disgust. The president was forced to resign, as was the executive director. Then there was the dust-up over the old Rita Awards when a story about a Nazi officer who hooked up with a Jewish chick and she converted to Christianity won a fucking Rita.

A lot of folks quit RWA after those hot messes. Judges withdrew from participating in any RWA awards. Hell, even several chapters left the parent organization over the bullshit.

So the new Board, the most diverse Board I've ever seen, eliminated the Rita awards, going as far as cancelling them outright in 2020 (which was probably a good thing in regards to the raging COVID-19 pandemic though the cancellation happened before the U.S. shut down).

The new Board tried to address the marginalization of non-white, non-straight, non-Christian authors. They renamed their awards to reflect the Black founder of RWA, Vivian Stephens, and overhauled the rules for both entries and judging.

Apparently, they didn't go far enough.

I marginally paid attention to the Vivians on Saturday. I was in the middle of trying to finish writing a novel, and only because a friend was up for the romantic elements category. (She didn't win, and thank Cthulu, she wasn't in the Christian romance category!)

The book that won was At Love's Command by Karen Witemeyer. It starts with the alleged hero leading the Wounded Knee Massacre.

*facepalm*

I'm going to start by pointing out a similar FICTIONAL situation. Back in the early '80's, Chris Claremont was the writer of the Uncanny X-men, a Marvel title. (You may have heard of it.)

He had one of the heroes, Jean Grey, aka Dark Phoenix, eat a sun, and as a result, she killed an entire planetful of people. Billions of lives were lost.

During a story planning session with then editor-in-chief Jim Shooter, Chris outlined his redemption arc for Jean. Jim said, no, Jean needs to die. The men went back and forth until Jim laid down the law. Marvel heroes DO NOT commit genocide!

To me, this is a much bigger deal than DC claiming Batman does not eat pussy.

Other Marvel writers have since retconned the Phoenix Saga so it wasn't the real Jean Grey who committed genocide. But the original storyline has stuck with me. My heroes CANNOT do something so heinous and irredeemable and remain a hero.

Real life is bad enough. Real life sucks. Romance readers want their happy ending. I get that. But not at the cost of 300 real people who died in one of the most atrocious government acts in U.S. history. And especially, not when the bodies of dead Native children from what was a re-education facility were returned so recently.

RWA has issued a statement regarding the Vivian awards.

Every time I think things are becoming more equitable, reality slams a frying pan into my head. I should be working on my novel, but I needed to get my disgust out of system.

And to my friends who say RWA has changed, it hasn't, and it makes me queasy.