timothy j. lambert

Don't tell anyone, but I woke up at eight o'clock this morning. I'm not sure it's going to be a continuing trend, because I'm certain waking up early had everything to do with going to bed earlier than normal last night. Although, as usual it took me a while to fall asleep because I kept thinking about everything I did, everyone I met, and all the interesting discussions about writing I had with people at Saints and Sinners. I'd post pictures, but I didn't take any. I know, I suck.

Speaking of sucking, there was a moment on Sunday when I was on stage during my panel discussion when I thought, What the hell am I doing here? I couldn't tell if I was contributing anything worthwhile to the topics and it was extremely difficult not to be able to turn to Becky and ask her for her two cents, because she was moderating the panel and that would be bad form. I couldn't even answer the question What's next? sufficiently, because we haven't discussed the next TJB book, Cochrane Lambert book, and I certainly haven't written anything on my own. However, there were people smiling and sometimes laughing when I was talking, so I'm going to assume that I was at least a bit witty now and then. And some people nodded while I spoke, so I'm going to assume something I said gave some of the audience something to think about. It's all a big blur, really. I do remember telling people to write what they want to read, and I think that's the most important thing anyone who wants to write fiction should know, so at least I got that out.

Becky and I were supposed to induct Stephen McCauley into the S&S Hall of Fame at the closing ceremony, but he had to leave early due to unfortunate circumstances, so we didn't get to. At some point in the future we'll post what we would've said. I'm glad we got to speak with him before he left, because I admire him and his work very much.

Anyway, I had a fantastic weekend. I'm already looking forward to next year, which I'm sure shocks some people who know me. It's not often that I look forward to leaving The Compound, especially for an extended period of time. I missed Rex terribly while we were gone. There was a lot of leaping and barking when we got home last night. And Rex was happy, too. I picked up EZ today and she was glad to see me. She apparently had a very uneventful weekend at the clinic. Which is very good for her. She doesn't need anything eventful to happen for a while. That is, until she finds a forever home.

And now I'll take a nap. Or play in the yard.

I listened to Mark Doty talk about "the challenges of the memoir" yesterday. I could watch and listen to him for hours. Days, even. It must be wonderful to have him as a teacher. Though everything he said was geared to memoir writing, I could easily relate it to writing fiction and plan to use some of the things he talked about to develop future characters. Met Mr. Doty afterwards while smoking outside with Mark and Becky. I love it when I'm with Becky in these situations, because I can stand, gawping like a dolt in admiration, while she speaks for the both of us.

I was far better composed at the welcome party last night, though. It was held in the courtyard of the W hotel, which was a gorgeous setting. It reminded me of the birthday party scene in Prince's movie, Under the Cherry Moon. I spoke with many gifted and truly wonderful people. Too many to list here. After the party we--Becky, Mark, Lisa, Marika, David, 'Nathan, and FARB (or sometimes BARB)--went to dinner. Although, some of us had breakfast. Then we hung out in the courtyard of Lisa, 'Nathan, and David's hotel, which was breathtaking. It was like a small jungle. It reminded me of the place in the movie Crossroads where Britney and her friends stayed when they were in New Orleans. Their rooms were enormous, gorgeous, and made me feel as though I were not a girl, not yet a woman.

I think I know where we'll stay next year.

I'm in the lobby of the Bourbon Orleans hotel. New Orleans is as wonderful as ever, but the hotel experience has already been freakin' annoying. What's the point in making a reservation, requesting specific rooms on the smoking floor, when upon arrival you learn that you can't have the rooms you asked for and that the hotel has suddenly gone non-smoking? If the point is to annoy your weary hotel guests, then they succeeded. There are other things that have annoyed me about this place, but three different hotel employees are currently lurking behind me. I'd much rather think about the master class I just left anyway, which was hosted by the lovely Stephen McCauley. He talked about creating engaging characters. Which was ironic, because he's an engaging character himself.

Speaking of characters, I wonder where Mark G. Harris is? Guess I'll go find out.

I dropped EZ at Winrock Animal Clinic yesterday because it was on my way to L____'s house, which I cleaned with Mark G. Harris' help. After that, Rhonda, Lindsey, and Kathy came over for dinner and a belated birthday celebration for Rhonda. Becky made the best cake ever, which can be seen here. All the pre-running amok we did in preparation for our weekend in New Orleans has brought us to today, in which there is even more running amok. Becky still had an appointment at 8 AM today, a mother to visit, batteries to buy, toes to gild, and bags to pack. I had hair to dye, bags to pack, an EZ to miss terribly and check up on, a savage Rex to soothe, and--oh, I know I'm forgetting something.

What I do know is that we'll probably arrive in New Orleans later than we thought.

Thanks to everyone who's confirmed my nomination to the LiveJournal Advisory Board so far. Rex and I really appreciate it. If you haven't voted yet, please go here to vote for me.

Oh! Underwear! I should pack that, too, shouldn't I?

I've thrown my hat into the ring and have nominated myself as a new member of LiveJournal's advisory board. Go here to vote me and to see my entry, which contains a lovely photo of my running mate, Rexford G. Lambert. Please vote only once, no spamming, and only votes from LJ members count. Campaigning is cool, so please ask your friends who aren't on my Friends List to vote for me. I'll need 100 votes to be considered. I believe the polls close at the end of the month.

The anxiety levels at The Compound are climbing steadily as we make arrangements for our trip to New Orleans this weekend. A house guest is arriving (I'm not sure if I'm at liberty to name names.) tonight, so I'm cleaning, washing clothes, tormenting dogs with the vacuum cleaner, and throwing things I'll need for the weekend on the bed as I go along. I've also been washing the dishes, filing paperwork, answering and sending email, dusting, tripping over dog bones, and picking up various bric-a-brac from the floor in between maneuvers.

Oh, and answering phone calls. Excuse me. *pause* I'm back. It was Becky, who's out and about, doing errands of her own.

Separation anxiety is already setting in, because I have to board EZ at the Winrock Animal Clinic tomorrow. Although they run a top notch facility, I can't help but worry about her. She's canine aggressive. What if she mauls another dog? She has separation anxiety. What if she's left alone for too long, flails around in her kennel and further damages her paw? What if she gets excited or frightened and jumps around on her paw? What if carny folk break in to the clinic and take her away? What if, what if, what if?

The anxiety I have about being away from Rexford is minimal, because he'll stay here with Mr. Becky. Which is like Field Day every day for Rex. He'll get to play with the girl dogs, torment the girl dogs, and ignore the girl dogs, because he turns it on and off like that. He'll get to watch Rex TV all day and night. He won't have to sit, lay down, ask permission to go in and out of the house, or jump through flaming hoops like he does when I'm in charge. He'll even get to eat and sleep during "normal" hours. I thought about taking him with us, but why deny him that kind of fun?

The dryer clicked off, I have an email from a publisher to answer, and EZ is giving me her I have to pee look. I need a houseboy.

EZ had a post operation check-up today in Sugar Land, so I knew I wouldn't get much sleep last night. I finally fell asleep around 5 AM. The alarms were set for 11, 11:30, and noon. One of them was bound to wake me up, I figured, but it was actually the ringing phone that woke me up this morning at ten. Ten! It was a prime example of why I don't like having a phone. I answered, and heard a voice informing me that she worked for the vet in Sugar Land. I had no idea they made wake-up calls, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered setting the alarms. Dr. Bubenik was going to be in surgery at 1 PM, which was when EZ's appointment was originally scheduled, so the voice asked if I would mind coming in at 3 PM, instead? Why, no, I didn't mind. In fact, I'd originally asked if I could have the last appointment possible and begged for a 3 or 4 PM appointment. Grrrrrr.

After I disconnected the call, I said, "Where's Rex?" He ran up the stairs, jumped into bed with me, and we napped together for another hour. Then I ate oatmeal, which made me think of Mark G. Harris. After catching up on episodes of Lost online, EZ and I left for Sugar Land. At the vet, she was given a clean bill of health, had some staples removed, and was given a new bright, orange cast. Now she can safely go hunting. On the way home I was treated to the horrific joy of driving on 59 at rush hour in a rain storm.

Now I need to clean my apartment and read/proofread a certain famous author's really big manuscript in two days.

If you're in Houston this Saturday, join Scout's Honor and their wonderful doggies and kitties up for adoption at the MONTHLY MEET AND GREET PET ADOPTION EVENT in the Heights on May 3rd from 10am to 3pm, located at Cooper Animal Clinic, 1136 Heights Blvd, Houston, TX 77008, ph. 713-861-1155 (On Heights Blvd., between 11th and 12th street).



Looking for a dog or cat? There will be many there from lots of different rescue groups for you to adopt or foster.

Do you have a dog or cat who needs a home? Please come and talk to the many rescue groups and get into one of their programs. Then you can join the fun, coming to the events, meeting nice people, and finding your pet a GREAT, FOREVER home!

Because Mark G. Harris asked me to do it, here's a photo of me with a handlebar mustache. It's a poorly kept secret that one of Mark G. Harris' short stories is in FOOL FOR LOVE: New Gay Fiction. And that's the kind of editor that I am; one of our writers makes a request, so I fulfill it. I give until it hurts. And this kind of hurt. My chin is a little raw now. As you can see, I lost five pounds after shaving off the beard.



My handlebars are a bit crooked, much like me. You can see this and two more photos, taken by Becky Cochrane, who also gives until it hurts, here. (Please, no comments about "manscaping." Never gonna happen.)

Got new glasses today. My old pair were five years old and completely jacked up. I could barely see through them, so I never wore them, which meant my eyes were perpetually strained. Not fun. Becky and I spent way too many hours at the Galleria today so I could have my eyes examined and get a new pair of glasses. While we waited for my lenses to be installed in the frames I'd selected, we went to Borders. We saw Johnny there, who looked fantastic, albeit a bit out of focus since my pupils were still dilated from the glaucoma test. Normally I love visiting Borders, but it was a bit annoying this time because I couldn't read anything. But, hours later, I can see clearly now. Which meant I had no excuse not to finish editing our anthology, FOOL FOR LOVE: New Gay Fiction, which was supposed to be at Cleis Press today. Oops. (Luckily, our contract stipulates that while the due date is May 1st, the contract isn't breached if it's received by May 5th.) We only had a few more stories to revise anyway, and now it's done. Becky is on her way to the airport post office as we speak. And now I'm going to see if I have suspenders and a pocket protector, so I can complete my transformation into Supreme Dork of the Universe.

Got a haircut today. Which is kind of funny, because now I look nothing like the photo I sent in for the Saints & Sinners program. Needless to say, the haircut looked ten times better before I left Larry's salon.



btw, should the beard stay, or should it go? If it goes there will be trouble. But if it stays...

This entry and this entry have provoked several editors, writers, and other people in the publishing industry to send me complimentary emails and letters that remark favorably on my level-headed and realistic viewpoints.

If any members of my immediate family are reading this, those words were "level-headed" and "realistic" in case you missed them the first time. Shocking, I know.

The following entry is adapted from an email I sent to Rex's attorney.

EZ is back. Dr. Bubenik called Friday morning (at 9:30. Yay!) to let me know that EZ's x-rays looked excellent and that I could pick her up at noon. So I did. I got a behind the scenes tour of the facility so Dr. Bubenik could show me the x-rays on computer. I thought they were fascinating. There were before and after shots, and you could zoom in to see the screws holding on the metal plate and everything. Then EZ came in from a last slow walk outside, saw me, and shuffled over, crying the whole time because she was so glad to see me. Talk about heartwarming. If only she got along with other dogs I'd probably keep her. But Rex's ears are pretty damned cute and I'd like them to remain intact. Anyway, she's back at The Compound in her crate, doped up on meds, and wearing one of my T-shirts so she won't scratch up her skin where they shaved her. It's a black T-shirt, so she looks tragic and very emo. The new look goes well with the thunderstorm we're experiencing right now. Her bionic paw comes with a set of instructions. She can walk, but very slowly. Running, or other jarring motions, will cause the screws to come loose. Also, the plate isn't exactly titanium steel. It's a thin sheet that will bond to the scar tissue and bone in time, but it can flex if EZ runs or jars it. Much like a paper clip that's flexed back and forth, it could break with a lot of movement. Credit cards can break when flexed too much, as well, so we don't want to have to do this all over again. Which is why we'll be taking it easy for the next six to eight weeks.

When I was in high school my best friend/sometimes girlfriend's mother was named Lorraine. (She still is named Lorraine, actually.) Because of this, I'd often substitute "Lorraine" for any song lyrics that had "the rain" in them. I'd sing, "Blame it on Lorraine." Or, "I can't stand Lorraine (against my window)." Or, "Here comes Lorraine again."

Look! BuNnY MoNsTeRz!



BuNnY MoNsTeRz are hand made by my friend Keri in Maine. Each one is unique and made from recycled fabrics and ecospun felt. If you want one, visit Keri's Etsy Shop and order yours today. She even takes requests.

I got a second call from Sugar Land Vet Specialists about EZ. The first was a few hours ago from Dr. Bubenik to let me know that EZ had surgery this afternoon and that everything went very well. The only snafu that occurred was with their x-ray machine, so they couldn't x-ray for post-op. However, it will be fixed tomorrow. But everything in her paw seems to be in perfect alignment now. The second call came minutes ago from Robert, a vet tech, letting me know that EZ is doped up on the best pain meds available and is resting comfortably. He'll try feeding her in a little while and then will see if she has any interest in peeing or pooping soon. I doubt she will, since her m.o. in a strange setting is to shut down her bladder and colon of titanium steel until the last possible moment, but I didn't say anything about that. Since she's a foster dog it's probably a good idea to get an honest report of how she acts in strange setting without my two cents. Robert said she'll most likely be kept through the weekend for observation, but they'll call me periodically to let me know how she's doing. And I can visit tomorrow, if I want. And I'll want. =)

I tried to take a nap after I arrived home from taking EZ to the vet, but couldn't manage it. Instead, I revisited a painting I've been working on for a while now. I added more to it, but wasn't liking it, so I took a break and parked myself in front of the computer to catch up on some blog reading. After a while I felt Rex's eyes boring into my side and said, "Give me a minute, and then I'll let you out." I heard him prance away again and, after a few minutes, I heard the sound of licking. I turned around and caught him licking the oil paint from the canvas I'd been working on. Blue paint was smeared all around his mouth, as if he were a three year old who'd found mom's make up kit.

He's a funny, funny dog, that Rex.

After what amounted to a four hour nap, I woke up at nine this morning and thought, They'd better keep that dog overnight, because I'm not doing this again tomorrow, damn it. I had to take EZ to the vet in Sugar Land today. I don't know why, but for some reason these appointments can only happen in the morning, when it's least convenient for me. I always arrive feeling like baked shit on a Ritz cracker because I don't normally fall asleep until sunrise.

I fed EZ, let her wander outside, crated EZ, fed Rex, let him wander outside, crated Rex, and then I fed myself. I read email, blogs, and various news sites while I ate oatmeal. A headline about a fatal crash on 290 jarred my mind awake. I had to hit the highway in a little while and didn't want to follow that particular trend.

Moments later I was flying down 59 in Jet, Becky's SUV, cursing at other motorists while my co-pilot lazily licked her paw. I glanced at EZ and thought, They'd better keep this dog overnight, because I'm not doing this again tomorrow, damn it.

A vet tech took EZ's temperature, weighed her, and while we waited for the doctor, I thought, They'd better keep this dog overnight, because I'm not doing this again tomorrow, damn it. Then Dr. Bubenik came in to explain EZ's surgery to me. They'd go into her leg, scar everything around her wrist joint, and then implant a metal plate over her wrist, which would fuse to her bone as the scar tissue formed around it. Everything would lock into place and her wrist would be stable afterward so she could walk on it. Complications were explained, as was the after care, and then I signed off on the operation. The procedure would happen tomorrow, so they said they'd keep her overnight, and possibly a few days for observation after that as well. So I asked to say good bye to her, and they let me go to the back where she was crated. EZ stared at me and then bonked her nose on the crate door, as if to say, Bust me out of here, damn it, and let's go home.

After all the snarling and complaining I'd done all morning, tears stung my eyes and busting her out of there was exactly what I wanted to do.

I love being inside the loop. When you live in Houston, that phrase has an entirely different meaning. In that sense, I love living inside the loop, but what I originally meant is that I love being inside the loop as a writer, because I'm reading a lot of unpublished stories these days. Luckily, they're all very good! Last weekend I read an extremely enjoyable romance novel, which I'm happy to say is on its way to its publisher as we speak. I have a feeling the editor there will appreciate it very much. Not only appreciate it as good work, but appreciate getting it. Another novel recently appeared in my in-box, which I'm really looking forward to reading, because I always enjoy this writer's work. And then there are a slew of unpublished short stories that I need to read. Some of them I've read before, but I know I'll love reading them again. But a few of them are new to me, which is extremely exciting considering the people who wrote them.

I wish I could name names. Oh, well.

Last Friday, my friends Amy and James came over for dinner. It was really great. They live in Maine and happened to be in the area, so they dropped by. Yes, they blindfolded themselves en route to The Compound to protect our privacy, which actually made them fit right in while driving in Houston. It was wonderful to spend time with them and show them where i live. James is a landscaper, so we walked the vast grounds of The Compound and talked about various plants, growing seasons, and my blue thumb. (It's blue, because the grass keeps dying.) Rex was ecstatic to have new people to jump on. Amy even let him lick her face. I think he wanted to go home with her. The only downside to the evening was that I forgot to take pictures. Now they're going to have to come back, so I can remedy that.

Speaking of gardening, last week I bought 1500 ladybugs from one of the area nurseries to spread throughout the flower beds. I'd never done that before and I highly recommend it. Not only do they eat aphids, but it's really cool to have hundreds of ladybugs crawling on your hands. I felt like Edward Ladybughands.