This past week was hectic. We had to take our cat Poe to the vet to have three of her teeth extracted. She is recuperating nicely, but caring for her as she recovers has thrown off the daily and weekly routine. Therefore I didn’t manage to accomplish as much as I had hoped.
Reading
I am still reading through the collected interviews of Jorge Luis Borges. He is currently at the top of my list of “If you could spend a day talking to one author, living or dead.” The interviews are all excellent, but there is a notable difference the interviews where the interviewer is almost as smart as Borges, and the ones where the interviewer is nowhere near as smart as Borges. Actually, “smart” isn’t the right phrasing. “Well read” and “erudite” work better.
Writing
I am still planning what I will tackle in November, since NaNoWriMo, having both become enshittified and having shit the bed, is off the table. Probably a re-write of my novel-in-progress Cacophonous.
“Metal music festival loses headliner, multiple bands after announcing Kyle Rittenhouse as guest” (PennLive) – Four of the bands, the headliner Evergreen Terrace, along with Southpaw, Let Me Bleed and American Hollow, dropped out of the Shell Shock festival when they found out Rittenhouse was a guest. I suppose inviting an incel whose mom drove him across state lines to hunt people for sport is a bad move for a festival whose stated purpose is to support people with PTSD.
[The latest, and possibly the last, harvest from our small garden this year.]
Suddenly here we are in the last week of September and the first week of Autumn. We finally have something approaching seasonal weather, though the weather we are having now would have been considered unusually hot only a decade ago. So it goes.
Reading
I have set all of my other reading aside so that I may focus on reading the collection of interviews with Jorge Luis Borges. I picked this book up back in June 2016 and it has been gathering dust for the past eight years.
Writing
Thought it isn’t necessarily creative writing, I did stay up late a few nights ago and write a long blog post for the monthly Insecure Writer’s Support Group blog hop. The post will go live on Wednesday, October 2. The question for the month was about our favorite classic ghost stories. I chose “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” by Ambrose Bierce. For why this was the story which most affected Young Me, check back in a couple of days.
Reading the interviews with Borges has helped me sort out a few problems in one of my longer (and older) works-in-progress. I am taking notes and rearranging a few things, noting where I can remove characters who are now extraneous and adding one or two who will be central to the revised work. Though I will not be officially participating in NaNoWriMo this year I do plan to spend much of November (and October, and December) writing, and perhaps complete a first draft by the end of the year. This will only be possible because I will be able to use more than half of the previous version essentially unchanged, or only lightly edited. And if I can’t complete a draft by December 31, I would like to have it done by the end of the Year of the Dragon.
This past week was my last week of work for the fiscal year, which ends at the end of the months. I am taking next week off in order to burn some unused vacation days and also to just…not work. I have taken some days off here and there over the preceding twelve months, but those days were filled with chores, errands, travel, and the ten thousand other things which tend to fill in the days, hours, minutes, and seconds of a day when we allow them to. Or rather, when we don’t take sufficient care to guard our down time.
Reading
For the past two weeks I have been working my way through my back issues of DreamForge magazine, to which I have had a subscription since 2019. Unfortunately I was so inundated with reading material at the time that I never got around to browsing more than a handful of stories out of any of the issues. So I am making up for lost time.
I also, on a whim, pulled down Jorge Luis Borges: Conversations, and am slowly working my way through an assortment of interviews with Borges, which start in 1965 and run through 1985, the year before Borges died. I think this will lead to me pulling my down my Borges collections and reading them through the rest of the year.
Subject: Precursors, Super Powers
Setting: Labyrinth
Genre: Technothriller
Listening
Miami Vice premiered 40 years ago this past week. I can’t overstate the impact it had on my rural outsider psyche, sitting in front of the television on Friday nights all through high school.
Interesting Links
“The Subprime AI Crisis” (Ed Zitron, Where’s Your Ed At) – It’s time to start shorting OpenAI stock.
[ Looking south down the Grand River in downtown Grand Rapids. The river is exceptionally low. ]
It was another busy week here in West Michigan, as I worked through the final week of one work project and began ramping up on another. I have some vacation time coming up soon so I want to get as much off my plate as possible so my vacation can be an actual vacation, and not just a deferred workload.
The Harris/Trump debate took place this past Tuesday, and Harris absolutely mopped the floor with Trump. Trump has always been a laughing-stock and a buffoon, but he is also aggressive and a bully. To see him taken down in a venue where he can’t intimidate those around him, or fall back on the adulation of his bootlicks and coprophages, was one of the more enjoyable experiences of this election cycle. His aforementioned supporters, who are all apparently suffering from terminal boot-polish poisoning, are of course saying he won, and using racist and misogynistic attacks against Harris to back up their arguments. So things are progressing as usual.
Reading
I’ve been working my way through back issues of magazines and journals which I have accumulated over the last decade. This week I finally opened Dreamforge #2, which I received back in 2019 after helping to fund their Kickstarter.
Writing
This past week I didn’t put a lot on paper. I am taking notes for some writing projects I want to tackle during my upcoming time off, but I do not hold any illusions that my plans will go as expected.
[ The weekly harvest from our garden. Zucchini, string beans, a few varieties of tomato, and a hot pepper. ]
Well, this was another busy week. My partner had a food booth at the Eastown Street Fair on Saturday so I spent a good amount of time assisting her with preparation, setup, selling, and the tear down. All this in addition to working a 45-hour week. So not a lot happened otherwise.
Reading
I finished Fleur Jaeggy’s short story collection I Am the Brother of XX, which upon review of my LibraryThing account I saw that I had read before, but as I do not remember a single thing about this book I am going to say that I have not, in fact, read it before, and that the rating in LibraryThing was a mistake.
Writing
Per usual, my writing was confined to this blog post and a few pages in my journal. I did put in an appearance at the River City Writer’s Group, where I presented a poem along with the first draft version, and general consensus was that the first draft was the superior draft, so back to the drawing board, I guess.
[ A colorful…something…on the Grand River in downtown Grand Rapids. ]
After suffering through another heat wave and humidity spike so severe it caused the corn to sweat (which just made everything worse), we are in a brief stretch of cooler weather, and with renewed vigor fueled by a couple of nights where I managed to get more than four hours of sleep, I am taking care of All The Things!
Reading
I finished Thomas McGuane’s short story collection Gallantin Canyon, and it was most excellent! McGuane has a fine sense for creating characters and motivations, and his writing style is quite enjoyable. I would put him on my shelf between Elmore Leonard and Jim Harrison.
And I just finished the beautiful and heartbreaking Magical/Realism by Vanessa Angélica Villarreal. Highly recommended to EVERYONE!
“They Don’t Make Readers Like They Used To” (Charles Stross, Antipope) – The world has changed over the past fifty years, and so has the way readers approach and appreciate fiction.
[Our ginger girl Poe, helping me with some weeding.]
This past week was the latest in a long streak of days in which my time is not my own. One would think that summer is a time of rest and rejuvenation, but that apparently only applies to people who are old enough to go to school and young enough to not have to work during the summer months.
Reading
My morning read is Magical/Realism by Vanessa Angelica Villarreal. My lunchtime book is Maurizio Lazzarrato’s Captital Hates Everyone, and my evening book is Thomas McGuane’s Gallantin Canyon. All are going well. All are excellent.
Writing
For the first time in more than twenty years, I attended the River City Writer’s Group, which I first visited at the old UICA space on Sheldon and Weston, back in the late 1990s. My after-work time is limited, but I do plan to attend at least once a month. Though writing is mainly a solitary pursuit, I miss the community aspect of reading and critiquing.
Subject: Mutants, Empire
Setting: Lost City
Genre: Noir
Listening
Fat Jon the Ample Soul Physician, “Rain Dance”. I first encountered Fat Jon on the compilation album Ropeladder 12, published by Mush Records. The album is out of print but can be heard online here and there. I listened to it a LOT back in the early 2000s as I tried to figure out what I was doing with my life. And here I am, listening to it again.
I started this week wondering what I would write about for this update. Nothing of note had happened recently and I was feeling the late-summer doldrums, even though we are only halfway through summer.
Then I went for a walk.
The office I work from is in downtown Grand Rapids, and in the rare moments when my workload allows a break from staring at screens and flailing away at a keyboard, I like to walk along the Grand River. Several walking paths and boardwalks line the river for several blocks on each bank, and despite being in the middle of the city, wildlife exists here in abundance.
Usually, though, the more aquatic animals tend to stick close enough to the water to dive in when approached by something dangerous, which humans are by definition.
So I was quite surprised, when walking east across the Blue Bridge, to see a baby snapping turtle making its way west across the same bridge.
There are not many pedestrians in downtown Grand Rapids on a Wednesday afternoon, which was probably the only reason why the turtle had not yet been stepped on or run over by a bicycle or scooter. Had it not been moving it would have looked exactly like a rock, or some discarded takeout, or an old wad of chewing gum.
I have seen baby snapping turtles along the Grand River several times in past years, but always near or above the Sixth Street Dam, where the water is much easier to access. And also usually several weeks later in the year. So seeing this little beast in the middle of a bridge, quite a distance from any easy access to the water, was doubly surprising.
Not wanting to see Wee Gamera get squashed, I picked it up and walked across to the west side of the Blue Bridge near the Public Museum, where I made my way to the edge of the river and carefully let it go at the edge of the water. To my relief it immediately scrambled in and swam away.
I felt pleased with myself for a job well done, and walked back across the bridge toward the office.
So imagine my surprise to see two more baby snapping turtles heading my way! One was already on the bridge, and the other was near a flowerbed berm and a bemused bike rider who had swerved at the last moment to avoid the turtle. I had already picked up the one nearest to me, and showed it to the rider before I scooped up the other turtle. We talked for a couple of minutes and came to the conclusion that there was a turtle nest nearby. We couldn’t find it after a quick couple of minutes of looking. So the biker rode on, and I took the turtles back across the river to the same place I had released the first one.
No new turtles greeted me as I walked back toward the office, so I carefully searched all of the flower beds – the only nearby places that weren’t covered in concrete – for more turtles. I had almost given up when, almost a hundred feet from the edge of the river, I found a small hole in the mulch and wood chips, out of which was crawling a small turtle.
Apparently my turtle-hunting behavior had attracted attention, because at this point two security guards approached me and asked me what I was doing. I showed them the turtle I had just picked up, and pointed out the nest, which was still showing signs of activity. I told them what I had done so far, and that the baby turtles seemed determined to cross the bridge rather than jump off the concrete embankment which was technically a much shorter route to the river.
Instead of walking all the way back across the river to release the latest hatchling I jumped the fence, which had been locked some time ago to prevent people from accessing the river bank and river walk on the east side of the water. I let the turtle go, and when I turned around, the security guards were right behind me. For a moment I thought they were going to arrest me for technically violating a city ordinance, but instead one of them handed me another turtle. We had a good laugh about the situation, then went back up to the bridge where the guards contacted the Grand Rapids Downtown Ambassadors to send someone to guard the turtle nest and rescue any additional baby turtles.
I introduced myself to the guards, and they told me they were private security for the city, which was not something I realized Grand Rapids had. I didn’t say anything to them, but I really don’t like the idea of private security monitoring the downtown area. One of the guards said that they recently increased their patrol area to the east side of Division Avenue, and south past the Van Andel Arena.
Finally, an hour into my fifteen minute walk, I returned to the office and completed my work for the day.
I left the office a little before 6:00 in the afternoon, and instead of heading back home I walked back over to the turtle nest. It looked significantly dug up, as if either a LOT of babies had hatched in the five hours since my last visit, or there had been some human intervention. I assumed that any eggs that were going to hatch had hatched, and walked onto the Blue Bridge, intending to take the long way home.
And, of course, I found another baby snapping turtle, just as it crawled onto the bridge.
So I scooped it up, hopped the fence again (which was much easier thirty years ago) and released the turtle into the river. This turtle was warm to the touch and lethargic, and obviously suffering ill effects from the afternoon heat, but it perked up and swam away when I put it in the water.
Thinking about it, there are only two ways an adult snapping turtle could have reached the flower bed where it laid its eggs in (presumably) the early Spring.
From the east river bank, it would have to negotiate a long wheelchair ramp, including a switchback, wedge itself through or under a closed gate, and then make its way tens of yards farther east from the river. I think this is the more plausible explanation.
From the west river bank, it would have needed to make its way up a ten-foot incline, past several sets of stairs, and then crawl the entire length of the Blue Bridge plus a significant distance, before laying its eggs. And all this without being intercepted by humans of good or ill intent.
Either way, that was one determined mama snapping turtle.
So that was my Wednesday. I rescued six baby snapping turtles from being stepped on or run over or from dehydrating on the sidewalk in the mid-day sun. I would call that a good day’s work.
Reading
I am still slowly working my way through Villarreal’s Magic/Realism and Lazzarato’s Capital Hate Everyone. They are both quite good, but also quite dense reads, so the going is slow. In my spare moments, I picked up (and completed) Jen Haeger’s Whispers of a Killer, which I acquired at ConFusion a while back. It was a truly enjoyable read, and I look forward to picking up the next two in the series at the next ConFusion in January.
After finishing Haeger’s book, on a whim I grabbed Tom McGuane‘s short story collection Gallantin Canyon from the shelf. This is the first time I have read McGuane, as far as I remember, and so far I really like it! Thanks to his long friendship with Jim Harrison, I have read a lot about McGuane, but very little by him.
Writing
I didn’t write a lot this week, but I did stop in to the downtown branch of the Grand Rapids Public Library after work to see if my old writing group was still meeting there. It was! It is now called the River City Writer’s Group, and is still going strong. I plan to attend next week, manuscript in hand, for the first time in over twenty years.
[A recently-hatched cicada adult, drying out before its first flight.]
This was another busy week and most of my mental capacity was occupied by the current chaos of American politics, as well as stories coming out of the Olympics, though I have yet to see any actual events. I will need to look for recordings when my time frees up. So somewhere around summer 2035.
At the beginning of this past week my partner and I drove to Chicago for a few days of visiting friends, sightseeing, and eating a wide variety of amazing food. Travel and prep for travel didn’t leave time for much else.
Vacation travel left little time for more than some brief journaling, though I did write the beginnings of a poem after returning home from Chicago. We’ll see if anything comes of it.
“Israel: Armageddon?” (Yves Smith, Naked Capitalism) – This is a good article exploring the possible reasoning behind Israel’s latest tactics, specifically political assassinations. However, the real meat of this link is in the comments, where many Naked Capitalism readers are filling in more details, history, motives, and possibilities around Israel’s ongoing conflict/genocide with Palestine.