Clancy Nacht's Blog, page 14

True Detective 1/1 Feels: The Long Bright Dark

As a preface, I had just watched Sherlock 3:3 before this, so the first time I watched it, I had a hard time simmering down and this show definitely promises to be a slow burner. Well, kind of. I mean, you get the money shot of a dead person pretty quick, but the build of, “Why are we here?” takes a while to resolve.

We start with an interview set in present date (well 2012) with two ex-detectives who were mismatched from the start. The narrative jumps around a bit but per the dates, Rustin (Matthew Mc) was interviewed in April, Marty (Woody Harrelson) in May. Marty, balding P.I. apparently retired from the force, starts talking about Rustin, whereas Rustin, now full blown alcoholic, burned out with long hair, mustache, and living off the grid, starts with the case they’re there to talk about which occurred in the mid 90s. Their first case. And y’all, this is some real Hannibal shit.

So antlers are in this year. There’s a woman kneeling before a twisted tree in the midst of sugar fields wearing a crown of antlers with her hands tied in a prayer pose. She has a spiral pattern, maybe a tattoo? on her back. Rustin’s nickname is “Tax Man” because while all of the other detectives had notepads, he had a big ledger where he sketched the scene. Marty takes pictures.

While there are observances about how Rustin lives, like his bare apartment with just a mattress and books about detectiving, he doesn’t seem to ask many questions.

Rustin, all clean-cut and puppyish, notes these little cages around the body and says that killer is a meta-psychotic. He believes the murder is going to happen again, or has happened before. Per his light reading, he probably knows how to classify it, but while they’re Louisiana State Police, it doesn’t seem like either of them have come across anything like this, and the tiny town in the middle of nowhere surely hasn’t seen it.

Now, for those who didn’t live through the mid 90s and may not be aware of the Satanic Panic, I’m really interested to see where this ritualistic murder goes. There is a nod to it in this episode where a preacher shows up at the offices and talks about the spiritual war.

I knew I would love this show when Rustin is asked why he has a cross in his apartment and he says, “It’s a meditation. I contemplate whether I would allow myself to be crucified.”

And also that self awareness was an evolutionary mistake.

I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware. Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself. We are creatures that should not exist by natural law. We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self. A secretion of sensory experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody. When in fact, everybody’s nobody. I think the honorable thing for our species to do is deny our programming, stop reproducing, walk hand-in-hand into extinction, one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.

So, not real surprised he’s an alcoholic. He’s brooding about his daughter’s birthday coming up. They pass a billboard with a child’s face on it asking, “Who murdered me” and you get the idea that this town…something is seriously awry, but no one seems to notice. Like, you know, kids go missing sometimes, but no one’s put antlers on them after they’re dead, so they don’t count.

Anyway, Rustin is invited over to all American cop’s house to meet his wife and 2 kids and he’s not sure he can do this thing because he has issues. He heads out to a truck stop where he talks to some sex workers and then buys sleeping pills off of them. Apparently, the murdered girl was a part time sex worker. There was sex, torture, death but washed clean. Rose thorns and switch grass were woven into her crown. Clearly some symbology or ritual in effect with potential connection to Santeria, per the pastor of a black church out in the area where they found the woman. A man asked whether it was a young girl who had gone missing, so apparently, missing girls is a thing in this small, but very spread out, remote town. Rustin isn’t kidding when he says, “They may as well be on the moon.”

So the little girl went missing, the police believed the dad took her and they moved on. Another little girl was chased through the woods by a man with a green spaghetti face and that was dismissed as fantasy. Not sure yet what’s important, so just noting it.

As they move forward in the story, Rust demands alcohol. He insists it’s because he starts drinking at noon on his day off, but you get the sense that things are going to start to get intense.

The dead woman’s ex is in jail. She called him but he said she didn’t make sense, talked about becoming a nun. That she met a king. He felt she was fucked up, but…given the overtones of her murder…one has to wonder.

Apparently the reason for this interview in present time is that the old files about this case got ruined by Hurricane Rita. But this seems less routine just for sake of record keeping, particularly when the two investigators ask after the dinner Rusty went to with Marty’s family where he showed up drunk. He tries to drink coffee to sober up and Marty sets up a means for Rust to escape, but the wife manages to quite easily pry out of Rust what’s really eating at him: his daughter is dead and that’s what ended his marriage. And probably why he had to get drunk to deal with the domestic life and Marty’s two little girls. Once he’s unburdened himself, he seems more at ease.

Back in present time, we find out that Rust and Marty fell out in 2002, seven years after the case was apparently resolved. But Marty is very defensive about why they stopped being friends and he finally asks why they’re asking so many personal questions.

Rustin wasn’t super popular around the office, but Marty stands up for him. Even if Rust disturbs Marty, he respects his ability to detective and realizes that he’ll need that to break the case. Then, a pretty young lady shows up and… we find that Marty maybe isn’t the family man he presents.

They go out to interview the missing girl’s uncle who has apparently had a series of strokes. They talk to the woman taking care of him, they ask after the little girl but Rust decides to investigate the dilapidation out back. He has observed that this town isn’t really a town but a memory of a town, fading. And so it’s not surprising there’s an old shed out back that no one’s bothered to look into where Rust finds one of the little “cages” like was hanging up around the posed body. An item the pastor had identified as a devil’s trap, to trap the devil/bad spirits in.

In present time, Rust is hip to why they have called him in and asks to see the new case. They provide a photo of a woman hanging from a bridge like an angel with an antler crown. The current detectives, of course, want to know why a new body with the same MO has shown up since Rust and Marty arrested someone in 1995.

Rustin replies, “Start asking the right fucking questions.”

Exactly! So I think we have a pretty nice set up for who the characters are and where they’re coming from, so now we can move on to the mystery. I’m pretty excited about the premise, particularly in the time they set the original story because you know someone got jammed up in the Satanic panic who probably either had fuck-all to do with it, or had some idea and maybe put out those Satan traps trying to contain the evil.

I’m intrigued by the “king” and the dead woman being a “nun.” A cult leader using perverted religion to obfuscate his murderous leanings? That is so my jam.

That said, I feel like perhaps this is a series that is such a “lean in” sort of thing that it would actually benefit from the Netflixing premise of being able to binge watch. It seems like a lot of the reviewers who are all drooling with excitement over the show have seen the whole 8 episode series. And, given that after the hour it seemed like we were really getting to the point, even if HBO didn’t want to blow its whole wad at once, a double episode premiere may have been less obscure.

But, I’m intrigued and am looking forward to seeing the next episode.

True Detective, HBO, 9 PM Sundays

Filed under: recaps, true detective Tagged: feels, true detective, true detective feels

Kisses from Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid, Emily Carrington, Jenna Wade, Kelly Wyre & H.J.Raine, and Megan Derr.

Reblogged from Kay Berrisford: m/m romance.:

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Plans for 2014

I know a lot of authors already are working out schedules for their releases. I wish I knew that much or felt that much in control. There are a couple of stories in submission process, but for the most part, we have a bunch of finished stories that need editing and synopsiseseses and then a thorough consideration to where to try to place them.

I keep thinking I slacked last year but the truth is, I released 3 books and two rereleases. Two were in partnership with Thursday Euclid, Black Gold 2: Double Black and You’re Welcome. Love, Your Cat. The solo release was, No Tea, No Shade which is the start of a trilogy that… I have mapped out but need the time to complete. Then I rereleased two solo books after Noble Romance quit: Tricky and A Certain Pressure in the Pipes.

Then I dabbled a bit in doing recaps for NBC’s Hannibal. That was really fun and I met some good people and it inspired the only release I know is happening next year, Still Remains in February which is an erotic horror short story that’s inspired by Hannibal but isn’t really Hannibal so it wouldn’t be fanfic unless it went pretty far AU. Really, Hannibal was so different and groundbreaking, probably half of serial killer fiction was influenced and it’s at least as different as anything else in that genre. Only, you know, with graphic sex.

Not bad for someone who has a miserable day job and a brain trying to escape. Christmas saw the double vision come back and I have a whole litany of fresh tests for the new year. Already with Still Remains this year was leaning toward horror but I’m working on a vampire series with Thursday Euclid that I hope is as fresh and exciting to everyone else as it is to me. As a recovering goth, I was pretty done with the usual tropes so while this isn’t like… alien space vampires or anything, it’s got some interesting twists and lots of wanton destruction, so hopefully it’ll be something people like.

I’ve got some other tricks up my sleeve but we’ll see where it goes. I’m really hoping this will be the year where I retire from the evil day job, maybe take up some freelance projects if writing can’t keep me in pants, but where I can really kick ass and take names with some of the cyber punk I’ve been sitting on and other cool stuffs. So, my resolution is to keep moving forward, keep alive, and be entertaining.

Filed under: about clancy, books Tagged: a certain pressure in the pipes, black gold 2, horror, no tea no shade, thursday euclid, writing, you're welcome love your cat

M/M Romance Group 2013 Members Choice Awards Nominations

No Tea, No Shade

No Tea, No Shade

You’re Welcome. Love, Your Cat

Double Black

Double Black – Jett & Goldie

What a thrilling honor! Several of my stories have been nominated for a Member’s Choice Awards for the M/M Group on Goodreads. It’s a fun group, very active which is nice because you can chat about books you love. If you want to vote for me or anyone with awesome books, join the group!

Filed under: award, Loose Id, promo Tagged: award, black gold 2, double black, goodreads, loose id, m/m, no tea no shade, you're welcome love your cat, ywlyc

Double Black is Runner Up for Best Gay Contemporary Romance (William Neale Award)

After seeing what awesome books/authors we were up against, I was stoked to be a Rainbow Award Finalist in the highly competitive Best Gay Contemporary Romance (William Neale Award) category. I mean, I love Jett and Goldie, but there was some seriously fierce competition. The one thing that I said and that I truly believe is that you can’t really feel bad not winning when so much talent and warm hearts are all around you.

Also, there’s part of me that gets a little rankled at the idea of art and competition. I mean, there’s not really a way that you could steroid up your book to win something like this. You write what you write and you hope people love it.  But back when I put out my first stories, when I was a newb writer, Elisa was there with her reviews and ramblings giving encouragement and it’s hard for me to really express how much that meant to me beyond saying that I don’t know if I’d have the courage to be here doing this without that kindness from a stranger (yeah, I’m maybe a little Blanche…)

And while it’s generally against my nature to pay to enter a contest, I would have done it anyway because of Elisa, but to double down on this being something I believe in, the 2013 Rainbow Awards entry fees were given to the Ali Forney Center in NYC & Colors in LA. So I really feel good about this on multiple levels.

Special thanks to Thursday Euclid (of course!) Loose Id, Rory Olsen, Jules Robin, Melanie Tushmore, Wendy Soto, Z Allora, the hubby, and everyone who loves rocker boys! Special thanks to you, Ambien, without which I am totally lost. In fact, I’m usually lost when I’m on you, but only in the best way.

Where to get your own copy of Black Gold 2: Double Black:

At Loose Id
Amazon/Kindle
BN/Nook
All Romance eBooks

Filed under: about clancy, award, books, Loose Id Tagged: black gold, black gold 2, loose id, m/m, rainbow awards, thursday euclid

Brain Event

A week ago I had a brain event. That’s what I’m calling it. It’s

probably not medically correct or whatever, but I went from having a very bad headache to double vision.

I’ve never had double vision before and it took me a while to figure out what exactly was wrong. I thought I was just having a hard time focusing. In fact, it wasn’t until I was driving home and realized that I was seeing 4 sets of stoplights instead of 2 that I understood the magnitude of what was wrong.

Closing one eye, I was able to see clearly. Any single eye had vision, but my eyes weren’t working together anymore and it was terrifying. Because I was so panicked, I did something utterly ridiculous. I drove myself to the ER.

Don’t get me wrong, going to the ER? Totally the right move. Driving? That was ridiculous and taking that curb getting in was a final reminder to me that it was dangerous.

In my usual understated way, I told the ER person that I had “a headache and vision problems.” So I cooled my heels trying to decipher Wheel of Fortune (letters aren’t very double-vision friendly) while my husband got to the ER.

Once the nurse tested my vision, the problem became clear. I had my first MRI and discovered that I am, in fact, claustrophobic. Just thinking about it sets my heart racing again, but after they dosed me with Valium, I was pretty okay with it. Miracle of modern medicine.

Luckily, there was nothing obvious wrong with my brain and outside of some outstanding autoimmune bloodwork, the neurologist who followed up believes it’s a rare manifestation of a migraine.

All of that was fine and I was really relieved. They gave me some steroids to arrest the double vision and some Imitrex and I felt pretty okay. I wasn’t prepared for how emotionally difficult it was going to be to come back to work today, though. I just want to cry. I never suffered migraines before I came here. This job is so awful on levels that I just don’t even let myself feel.

And I feel stupid saying that because it is a job. It pays decently for what it is. Things could always be a thousand times worse. I remind myself of that over and over like a mantra and yet, I feel the seeds of a new headache. Everything I look at, I wonder, “Is that a flash? Am I seeing two of those? Am I okay?”

No. I don’t think I’m okay. I’m not okay at all. Physically, I’m fine, but emotionally I feel like a wreck. Perhaps it’s just too raw right now and I need to give it some time. In a couple of days maybe I’ll wonder wonder what my problem is.

But probably not. I don’t know. I’m going to force myself to post this as a marker, as a moment in time, as representative of the ten thousand posts I don’t make whining about my life because I get it. I do. In the game of trauma poker, I will lose every time. I am so fucking privileged and yet that thought brings little comfort when my vision splits in two. Holding back isn’t helping anyone. And maybe it isn’t my job. Maybe this is just the inevitability of my DNA or just part of the grand plan, a life I chose to learn some greater truth. Or maybe it’s just one of those things that happens. Shit often does.

Filed under: about clancy Tagged: migraine, personal

Atlanta GRL 2013—Day One

For lunch Thursday and I hooked up with Anna Zabo and Jessica Freeley for lunch at a pita restaurant. It was raining so we took the most expensive cab ride for a block and a half ever (even the cabbie felt bad and gave us a break…) but had a pretty yummy lunch. I love Gyros.

Back at the ranch, Erica Pike, M.J. O’Shea, and I had only chatted via FB about what was to transpire in our Rock of Pages panel. I’d agreed that Thursday would read from our books since we were all squeamish about reading our own words which was why we didn’t opt in for a whole reading. I let Thursday know of this…eventually. Some might say the day of, but I know I told him he was reading from Black Gold at least a week in advance. I’m considerate.

Now, this is where it can get a little twitchy when I say things like, “I have social anxiety,” and then people watch me easily, conversationally rule a panel with an iron fist. Okay, maybe not an iron fist, but look, whether it was reality or not, theoretically those people were there to be entertained. My problem is really in starting a conversation. I have about 10 conversations with you before I approach, most of them ending with, “I’m going to leave to talk to someone more interesting now.” Rationally, I get that’s not going to happen, but YOU talk to my brain. We’re pretty done with each other.

Anyway, I had two missions before the panel: get out my swag and meet up with the ladies so we could finalize what we’d talked about. The idea was that I would bring the giant, paper guitars, M.J. would bring the materials to decorate them, and Erica would bring the big prize gift for the best decorated guitar. We brought other prizes as well and then my mom inundated me with inflatable guitars.

She loves Oriental Trading Company. I think this is because she was a teacher and it was a cheap way to equitably entertain kids so she could trick them into learning stuff. For the record, this method never worked for me because I preferred cold, hard cash. I am not even kidding. She put dollar values on my grades because I wasn’t getting an A for no inflatable plastic guitar. And, when I’d change schools from elementary, to middle, to high, I’d negotiate for more money because the work was technically getting harder. I don’t think those were the lessons she intended to learn me, but not bad ones to have in the end.

As we had been planning the panel, however, I was pointing out that there were BLANK inflatable guitars available that we could decorate and I was kind of accused of having an inflatable things fetish. Look, what goes on between me and Jody is nobody’s business but our own.

But back to the present. Erica wrote up a tentative schedule which I slotted in beside me. Since in the past I’ve done radio and various events, I thought it would just be easier if I ran it. This weren’t my first panel (but my first as a writer!) The timing was maybe a little off but it was as designed. We’d decided that while people were doing their thing with the guitars, we’d have Thursday read stuff and do mini-Q&A’s in between so it wasn’t just the sound of industrious marker users.

Because I don’t actually have an inflatable fetish and because my mom had given me about 20 little light-up guitar charms (one day I will figure out why she loves things that light up and make noises so much) we awarded them as prizes for when people asked us questions. See, mom? Bribery for participation. I learned it from YOU, mom. I learned it from YOU.

I was quite pleased by the quality as well as the quantity of questions. I’ve seen many panels crash and burn because they’d anticipated way more participation than was warranted. It may just be that GRL has such a well-defined niche that we just have that kind of family atmosphere that leads us to be a little more comfy. I dunno. But I was super-grateful.

After all that, I needed a nap.

I awoke in time for the opening reception where it was rumored food would be. I was a journalism/advertising major. If there’s free food, I’m there. That’s what my college education taught me.

The food was…peculiar. The patty pan squashes looked amusingly like penises. I don’t know what was up with the bruschetta, I personally thought it was a little pico de gallo sans cilantro and jalapenos, but it was considered by many Earthlings in the room, to be food, so I choked it down. Normally I really love meat on a stick but my mandibles were having a tough time with it so I stuck to the… pork? Pork on forks? I dunno. It wasn’t bad, I just usually prefer food where my identification isn’t limited to, “The fibrous quality of this material suggests meat.” (I swear I’ll stop mocking the hotel food eventually.)

Then it was Juke Joint. I’m just going to come out right now and confess, I am a voyeur. I like watching. But dancers get better tips when they interact and so they do and I flee the area. I don’t know if this is social anxiety or past stripper trauma, but it takes a lot of alcohol to get me to party that way and I was not up to the challenge of drinking that much.

Fortunately for me, there was another soul, Belinda McBride, who was also content to chill out in the quiet room and we chatted about everything. I mean, everything. I think we may have solved hunger, negotiated peace in the Middle East, and cured cancer. Unfortunately, people kept nagging us to see the dancers, so we kind of forgot what we were talking about and wandered into the other room.

My pulse was racing. I was sure some half-naked man was going to jump out, covered in Axe cologne, and demand a hug. This has nothing to do with the actual dancers there. This is my past Las Vegas stripper trauma coming back to haunt me. THREE DAYS it took me to get the smell of Axe out of my hair and clothes. I didn’t want to spend another week in a scalding hot shower rocking myself and crying, “Unclean. Unclean. Unclean.” (Seriously, it’s the Axe. It gives me massive headaches.)

But! Instead of that, what did I see hovering in the corner, looking oh so enchanting?

CAKE.

Oh yeah. I squealed with an undignified amount of glee. CAKE!

Chocolate cake! White cake! Glorious cake!

I may have still been a little hungry.

So, we grabbed cake and Belinda and I were laughing to each other about what goofballs we are to write what we write and to be ever-so-slightly intimidated by gyrating men. I was really starting to feel a little distressed that I’d taken on full-scale old-biddy status when I heard someone else, upon seeing our uplifted plates say, “CAKE?”

It was cake. And it was good.

Filed under: about clancy, picspam, recaps Tagged: grl, grl2013, thursday euclid

Atlanta GRL 2013—Day Zero

I’ve put this off long enough. This will be an abridged version of events, so some things will be left out, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember them or didn’t think they were special. Some things may be left out because they were too personal to me or because I don’t want this to become a novel. Some names are redacted mostly because I’m HORRIBLE at names (just ask Casual Paul’s) and I was hoping some of my delay would make it so I could find people on FB so I wouldn’t munge things so obviously. Anyone who’s edited me knows I’ll forget the names of my own character. Thursday Euclid will tell you I will meet people and list off everything they said but be totally unable to locate a name. Maybe this is an area where Aleksandr Voinov can put the whammy on me for reals.

Enough with the preface. On with the show.

We arrived on Wednesday night, which I thought was pretty early for how I usually roll into things, but got some author shade as Thursday and I dragged ass from the MARTA to the Melia where the conference was being held. It was playful shade, but I was grumpy so I may have side-eyed a little hard. The lobby was full of writers and check-in a little confusing because of the noise, but I was getting pretty excited. I just wanted some food and drink and then avail myself of the company.

Our room was on the 4th floor so we heard the buzz from the pool-side party as we tossed our bags in. I’m a little fuzzy on why we decided to get drinks rather than order room service that minute. Maybe because in my mind, a dinner prefaced with a few cocktails is more satisfying but I think Thursday wanted to see Z. Allora right away.

Either way, we landed at the pool party and talked to Deanna Wadsworth about evil day jobs and how Thursday got his hair so blue. Then we caught up with Z, Belinda McBride, E.M. Lynley, Cherie Noel, Embry Carlysle, Carrie Ann Kennedy, P.D. Singer, and, you know, it’s a long list. We had much loving and meet and greet chats. Some of the ladies I knew from before and some I’d talked to on FB more than at the last GayRomLit, so it was exciting to be fresh of the plane, settle back with a Sangria, and start getting my sea legs.

Then tragedy struck. After we broke off because room service closed at 11 and we wanted to give time to get the food and not have the room service people cranky, I called downstairs about 10:20. No answer. We’d only been there about an hour and a half so I had no clue where food would be or we would’ve just wandered out. But we were so tired from dragging our bags. We asked the front desk what was up and they took us to the bar where the tender took our order but upon Thursday inquiring about tea, we were told that they THROW IT OUT AT 10:30. What? In Atlanta? Gurl.

Food arrived, I left a nice tip and made faces at the cherry tomatoes inelegantly halved and placed face-down on my Margherita pizza and vowed to myself to be slightly less snobby. Right.

Filed under: about clancy, recaps Tagged: grl, grl2013, thursday euclid, update

Going to GRL? Wanna meet up? October 17, 1 PM

Whether headlining a stadium or just starting out at a dive bar in downtown Anywhere USA, these dazzling men with more charisma than common sense dream big – world domination big. With sexy moves and egos for days, the rockers of the M/M universe have no trouble getting boys into their beds, but with so many temptations on the road, how do they find love? Hop on the tour bus and quench your curiosity with authors Clancy Nacht, M.J. O’Shea, and Erica Pike to discuss the ins and outs of writing about love born in the spotlight. You might even get lucky and win some awesome rocker goodies.

Located on the Second Floor in Atlanta Ballroom B.

Learn more about the GayRomLit Retreat

Filed under: about clancy, promo Tagged: black gold, black gold 2, grl, m/m, personal, promo, rockstars

Thumpday Thursday (what?) No Tea, No Shade Mixtape

I was going to post this yesterday for humpday, but I got distressed by work and depressed and totally forgot. So we get this a day late and with more violence because it’s THUMPDAY, BITCHES!

Yeah, I dunno. Go with it.

Here’s the deal. I write and when I write, I like to listen to music. In case the fact that I wrote two novels with co-author Thursday Euclid about rockstars, music is something I think a lot about.

I’ve put together a collection of music that I listened to or thought about listening to, or songs that I felt just fit No Tea, No Shade. I’ve listened to it a few times while at work and find it to be suitable for public consumption.

WordPress won’t let me embed the player here, so I’mma just link it. I hope you enjoy!

Filed under: books, Loose Id, promo Tagged: drag queens, mixtape, music, no tea no shade, promo