A Lull

I’m in a bit of a lull right now. Sue is stewing. Things are out various places, waiting to hear back. Evenings have been crowded, so I haven’t had time to read or write. Glad my next book is a Sookie Stackhouse one. I need something to wash away Flannery O’Connor. Ha, that would be quite the marketing campaign–are you feeling depressed and like something terrible might happen to you at any second because you don’t care for peacocks? Read Charlaine Harris today and feel much better.

Shoot, if I ran a bookstore, I would package O’Connor with Harris just so my customers would come back. There are probably a bunch of other writers who should be paired that way. I’m thinking Dostoevsky and Neil Gaiman. James Joyce and Richard Kadrey. They’re not really opposites, but antidotes for each other.

Oh, hell, if I ever get around to opening Dr Jack’s Spiritual Supplies: Serving Nashville Since 1850 (note the lack of a period so that I, like Dr Pepper, am not claiming to be a real doctor), I’m going to have a corner devoted to books that will affect your soul paired with their antidotes.

My headache is gone. I think it left yesterday, but today is the first time that its absence has been really noticeable. The thing that frightens me most about pain, and I’ve thought this ever since I fucked up my ankle in grad school, is that even when fixing the pain is somewhat simple, fixing how you hold yourself to stop the pain is more difficult. With my headache, I think I’ve been tense to steal myself against it, and now that it’s gone, I have to remind myself to relax.

With my ankle, I still go down steps leading with my right foot, almost always. Right foot down a step. Left foot joins it on that step. Right foot down a step. Left foot joins it on that step. And it is purely psychological. I don’t need to go down steps this way. But knowing that it’s a brain quirk and stopping from doing it are truly not the same things. The way I take stairs is like the way I have panic attacks. Something I feel like I understand well enough to stop, but clarity has no effect on it.

But here’s the weird thing. On Saturday, when we met with Cooper, without thinking, I took the stairs at Bongo Java normally. I would love to go back there when it’s less crowded and try to figure out why. They should be bad stairs for me. They’re open on one side–the railing is just a metal bar and some decorative wire. They’re dark, so knowing where to put your foot is difficult, and they lead to an open high up space. Plus, when you get to the bottom of them they change width. Lots of shit there that can fuck with a gal’s perception.

But here’s what I’m wondering–is it because they’re narrow? Does being able to put my hand on a railing and my hand on the wall make a difference?

I don’t know. But now I wonder.



One thought on “A Lull

  1. I feel very guilty but I didn’t enjoy the Sookie Sackhouse books after the first two. I guess I had so much invested in the Vampire Bill romance that I felt let down. Also, weirdly, I don’t like books that dwell too much on clothes, and I thought she did a lot–well, not a lot, but enough that it zoned me out in places.

    It bums me out because I’d read a series where Sookie and Bill were soulmates and taking on the world together like Sherlock and Mary in the Laurie R. King novels.

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