Tues. July 7, 2020: Die For Tourist Dollars Day 50: My Neighbors are Pyros (though not professionals)

Tuesday, July 7, 2020
Waning Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Saturn Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Foggy and humid

The past few days have been hell, because of dumbass “neighbors” setting off illegal fireworks all the time.

They’ve gone off every night since the beginning of the month. And every weekend since the Stay at Home. It needs to stop.

When it’s someone local, with whom the cops grew up, it’s “nudge, nudge, wink, wink, you know how unreasonable people are” and they’re let off with a warning. And, as soon as the car pulls away, they set the fireworks off again. They’re not confiscated, as required by law. They’re not fined, as required by law.

When it’s tourists, the cops do nothing because, you know, tourist dollars.

On the 4th of July, it started at 4 in the afternoon and went on until 2 in the morning. People were going up and down the street, setting off fireworks in front of other people’s houses. One set of neighbors next door did a production in his little backyard.

The houses here are just too close. There’s shrapnel everywhere, they’re gong to set someone’s house on fire.

Not to mention that Tessa was so terrified I was sitting in a corner of the room, holding her while she tried to burrow under my skin. I was afraid she’d die of fright.

It wasn’t cute little sparklers. It was the big boomers. It was like being under mortar fire for 10 hours, and the cops did NOTHING.

This state has specific and strict laws about illegal fireworks. In the 10 years I’ve lived here, not ONCE have the cops ever done a damn thing. The illegal fireworks have gotten exponentially worse every year.

Instead of pounding on peaceful protestors, how about going after those who are actually breaking the law and causing harm? Just because you grew up with them isn’t an excuse. Nor is that they’re tourists. Those aren’t the tourists we want visiting.

It’s not “harmless fun.”

I also noticed that EVERY person doing this belongs to the same group who refuses to wear masks – again, something that the state mandates.

Gee, people hurting other people in the name of their own “freedoms.” What a surprise.

It was hell.

Why should I pay taxes in this community? They charge me an “excise tax” because I own a car. They’ve upped the rates to get rid of garbage and punish me for wanting to recycle. They allow people to set off explosives every week “for fun.”

Especially since some of these fireworks are set off by those in illegal, short-term rentals. It’s not like they give a damn if they set the neighborhood on fire.

The Town Manager and my district’s Town Councilor are a complete and utter waste of space, both of them, but you better believe they’re getting strongly worded letters. It won’t do anything, but it will go on record in the town archives. Maybe, at some point down the line, it will be useful to someone who will actually do something.

And the fireworks are still going on EVERY DAMN NIGHT. I’m not going through this all summer.

Sunday, I was a complete wreck. I hadn’t gotten any sleep on Saturday night. I had to clean up shrapnel on Sunday. I tried to take a nap in the afternoon, but I was so wound up I couldn’t sleep.

At least Saturday and Sunday, I got some work done on GAMBIT COLONY. I’m nearly done with Book 4 – I figure I have three more chapters or so. The chapters run long, so I’m figuring another 60-70 pages. I have a bunch of material I wrote intermittently for Book 5, which is an interlude volume (figuring that to run 100 -150 pages), and Book 6 is outlined. I’m hoping to get drafted through Book 6 by the end of the year, and then start on the serious edits, at least for 4-6. The first three books are in good shape; they’ve had countless drafts.

I re-read two more Donna Leon books and BODY ON THE BAYOU by Ellen Byron, all of which were good. I also read AMERICAN SPY by Lauren Wilkinson, which was excellent. I had no idea what to expect going in. It’s a hell of a wonderfully written novel, strong voice, very different structure than usual, but different in a way that works.

I was left both wanting to know what happened next to these characters and feeling it ended at the perfect spot. So often, I’m unhappy with how and where novels end. Too often, it feels post-modern just to try to show off “style” instead of giving the book the unique ending it needs. But this was perfect.

I also read the book I was sent for review. It’s a solid fantasy novel. Not brilliant, but an enjoyable read, and will get a good review.

We had a wonderful, vicious thunderstorm on Sunday night. I loved it, especially since it cut short the illegal fireworks. I’d hoped for a good storm; it was even better than I expected.

I wish the weather would be horrible every weekend for the rest of the summer. Tourists are flooding in, bridges are backed up the way they usually are in summer, and we’re all being put at risk, because the tourists aren’t following the state-mandated protocols, and the businesses just shrug and let them get away with it.

Because, you know, if we’re not rich enough, we “deserve” to die for tourist dollars. That’s the attitude around here.

Client work yesterday – I’m creating more ads for this client. 6 LOIs out. Work on fixing BARD’S LAMENT – I’m about to enter the bit that’s a real mess. I need to fix it so I can move on. The deadline looms.

Did the whole week’s course work on THE BOOK OF KELLS class. It was fascinating, talking about scribes and how they created the book. Gave me ideas (always dangerous).

Managed to sleep through the night last night, for once (once the fireworks stopped).

This morning, I’m going to do some work on BARD, record a podcast for THE MERRY WRITER, do some client work. I think I need to go to the grocery store – it’s been about 10, 12 days, and we’re out of some basics. So I’ll gear up and go.

I have a Zoom call with my primary care physician, which I’m dreading. We will talk about the mixed results from the surgery, and work out a plan. I do not want more tests. I want to be left alone for the next six months until the next procedure.

I have a feeling this will continue to be a difficult week.

Hope your week is better.

Published in: on July 7, 2020 at 5:06 am  Comments Off on Tues. July 7, 2020: Die For Tourist Dollars Day 50: My Neighbors are Pyros (though not professionals)  
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Monday, February 7, 2011

Monday, February 7, 2011
Waxing Moon
Saturn Retrograde
Cloudy and cold

I was such an effing waste of food on Saturday, it wasn’t even funny. Felt unfocused, had the blues (for no good reason; with all the chaos out there in the world, I REALLY have no reason to be personally glum, only existentially so), couldn’t settle into a writing rhythm.

Worried about the weather, so I took the loaner car (now nicknamed the BlueJ, for Blue Jetta) over the Sagamore Bridge to my favorite gas station in Bourne, filled up (bigger gas tank than mine, and they gave it to me with only 1/4 tank of gas), then drove back along the Bourne Bridge and Rt. 28 to see how long it would take. Taking 6 and the Sagamore, it takes 20 minutes to hit the station; it took 50 minutes to get home, and that’s with barely any traffic. Rt. 28 is just bendier.

Took care of a bunch of business/admin stuff, did three loads of laundry, unpacked a couple of boxes, contacted a local writing organization I found via an ad in POETS AND WRITERS — hopefully listing my credentials didn’t come across as egotistical — saw a call for writing teachers in Boston — the proposal will be a pain to put together, but it would be a good gig to land, and fortunately, if you don’t have an MFA in Creative Writing, you can use your track record. They prefer MFAs in writing, but since I earn my living doing this and most MFAs don’t, it should be a point or two in my favor. So that’s on the To Do List for next week.

The essay is almost written in my head (now to get it on paper), and the two reviews I have to write are starting to make sense. Again, next step it to get them on paper and out the door.

More Tower of London research, which, unfortunately, is fuelling the world-building for the serial rather than the book that’s on deadline. And then I got some more information on the serial — the guidelines mean I’d have to do some massive character changes, which won’t work for this piece. So it’ll be a novel, not a serial. The two anthologies by this particular company are still possibilities, if I want to try a different type of writing (and a new pseudonym). I have to look at the schedule, the dollars, and see if the challenge balances it all out. I like to stretch, but I also don’t want to stretch so far in so many directions that it dilutes the work.

We had a cracking good thunderstorm on Saturday night, my first since we moved in. I enjoy thunderstorms when I’m safely tucked away, and the summer storms should be pretty awesome. The cats didn’t like it, though; they burrowed under the covers and stayed there.

The storm woke me around midnight and I had trouble getting back to sleep — mostly the wind. Sat up and read for awhile, cats huddled next to me, went back to sleep around 2.

Sunny and warmer on Sunday morning. Not too much damage — front yard slushy and re-frozen, looking like a poor excuse for a hockey rink. Back yard had a few tree limbs down and the tarp over the bulkhead torn, but still there. Newspapers, etc.

Jeez. Nothing like someone claiming to be an “editor” who can’t comprehend what she reads. Fortunately, I encountered her in a social situation, not a professional one, so all I need to do is remember her name and refuse her if she’s ever assigned to me. It’s highly unlikely, because she doesn’t “edit” for places to which I submit, so hopefully it will never be an issue.

Reminds of the time I was turned down for a teaching job for a fiction workshop. The workshop went to someone who couldn’t get published (not even a letter to the editor) and had zero credentials, because she was sleeping with the President of the Board of Directors for that particular nonprofit. In those cases, you just have to shrug and move on.

Of course, I could create characters based on all three of the above, put them in a story, and kill ‘em all off! I’ve got a mystery short story due in a couple of months. 😉

The play is starting to percolate in my brain — I think it will be fun, a real brain teaser.

And an interesting steampunk opportunity landed in my lap — if I can get it done within a week.

Started work on the instructor proposal. I’m going to have to rewrite it –I sound like a dominatrix.

Struggled with the book, although I’m making progress. It reads well, I know what I want to do with it. Don’t quite understand why I’m having trouble DOING it. When I actually sit down and do it, it goes well. But I have resistance to doing it, which is silly, because it’s a perfectly good story in great locations.

Didn’t care about either of the teams in the SuperBowl, so I figured I could enjoy the game, since I had nothing at stake. However, since I don’t particularly enjoy football, it mattered even less. I didn’t even watch the whole game. I watched part of the Puppy Bowl, though, which always makes me laugh. The kittens in the half time show were too small — they were scared. They need to be just a little older to make the format work. Most of them still had their baby fuzz.

Finished Antonia Frasier’s beautiful memoir MUST YOU GO? Truly lovely. One of life’s funny synchronicities — she speaks warmly of Indira Varma in one of Pinter’s plays. Varma is now valiantly struggling with the less-than-stellar writing she’s given on HUMAN TARGET. I wish I’d seen her in the Pinter.

Reading A NOVEL BOOKSTORE, by Laurence Cosse (should be an accent on that final e), translated by Alison Anderson. Fascinating satire on the hatred of good books & terrorism towards those who write them — the Tea Party would probably love it, not realizing it’s satire. Really well done novel, very European mindset in the way it’s structured, fascinating, horrifying, and funny all at once.

Did not celebrate Reagan’s 100th birthday because I loathed him and thought he was a lousy president. He set into motion what eventually blossomed into the financial meltdown. This revisionist history about how great he was — he wasn’t. I lived through his regime, and it was awful unless you were already rich, and he helped you get richer.

Had weird dreams last night, “working dreams” (in which I was working, on play this time, and on a revival of WOMEN WITH AN EDGE. I was Busy). Meant I woke up feeling like I’d already put in a full day!

Back to the page — lots to do this week to prep for CT and meet a bunch of deadlines that have to be cleared off before I go.

Back to the page.

Devon