greygirlbeast: (Humanoid)
I forgot, yesterday, to include a link to the interview I gave to the Brown University Bookstore newsletter.

Rainy and cloudy and cold in Providence today.

Almost all of yesterday was spent on the interview for, which was actually fun, for the most part. I dread the comments it will elicit, though. I can't help but dread that sort of thing, those wild, unfiltered comments. Anyway, I think I'm going to rescind my moratorium on interviews, as I think it's only attracting interviews I want to give. Maybe if I say, sure, I'll give more interviews, I'll give interviews until the proverbial cows come home, people will stop asking for them, and I can get back to the business of just writing. I think I wrote more than two thousand words yesterday, but they don't count, as they were all interview answers. I also went through a mountain of old WoW screencaps for my favorites of my two mains, Shaharrazad and Kalií, which I'm supposed to send back with the interview answers. It's insane how many screencaps I've taken over the last year.

Yesterday, my complimentary copies of Jonathan Strahan's Eclipse Three arrived. The collection looks excellent, and includes a new sf story of mine, "Galápagos." I urge you to pick up a copy. The street date is tomorrow, October 28th. This is one of those anthologies in which I am especially proud to have been included.

We have begun a new round of eBay auctions, still trying to recoup what went out to the IRS a couple of weeks back. We're about halfway to our goal. Please have a look. Thank you.

Last night, Spooky made an excellent apple pie with apples we picked on Sunday.

And, speaking of Sunday, here are photographs of the abandoned house on Old North Road. Spooky has learned that it was built in 1888. I could tell, from the field-stone foundation, that it was very old, but I'd not thought it quite that old. Spooky will be posting more photos of the house, the ones she took in sepia, and I'll link to those tomorrow:

25 October 2009 )
greygirlbeast: (talks to wolves)
The warmish weather is still with us here in Providence. Did I mention the warmish weather yesterday? Maybe I didn't. I was able to open my office window and leave it open until after dark (there's even a photo below). We've already reached today's high of 69F. A couple of years ago, if you'd told me I'd reach a point in my life where I'd characterize 69F as "warmish," I might have laughed. Anyway, the cold temperatures return tomorrow.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,395 words on this story for Sirenia Digest for which I still have no title. It's sort of a cockeyed take on "Little Red Riding Hood," and there's not a great deal in the way of plot. I'm not in the mood for plot, only hallucinogenic dreamquest surrealism. I may find THE END today, which means I also need to find the title.

Yes, I know that I said I'd be doing no more interviews for a while, having just finished the one for the South County Independent, but then I was contacted by someone at, who asked to interview me about my interest in World of Warcraft for their "15 Minutes of Fame" series. And I'm too big a nerd to have possibly declined. Also, they did Cat Valente a while back, and I remember envying her such a geeky honor. So, yeah. One last interview. Forgive me. I'm weak in all the right places.

The latest round of eBay auctions is going fairly well, and I thank everyone who's bid thus far. Screw you, IRS, and your goddamn self-employment taxes that take my money to pay for bombs to be dropped on Iraqi civilians while I can't afford decent health care. Which is to say, please have a look.


I was delighted, yesterday, by this story about Maurice Sendak's reaction to parents who are fretting over whether or not Spike Jonez' Where the Wild Things Are will scare their kids:

"I would tell them to go to hell," Sendak said. And if children can't handle the story, they should "go home," he added. "Or wet your pants. Do whatever you like. But it's not a question that can be answered."


Last night, I finally got to see Chris Nahon's recent live-action adaptation of Hiroyuki Kitakubo's short animated film, Blood: The Last Vampire (2000). I'm not what you'd call a huge animé fan, but I am very fond of the original Blood (I haven't seen the spin-off series). When I saw the trailer for Nahon's film sometime back in the spring, the waiting began. Unfortunately, the film never showed on a screen near Providence, or if it did, we failed to notice. I had to wait for the DVD release, and for Netflix to send it from our queue. It's good film, and a great piece of eye candy. Also, Clint Mansell (whom I adore) lends his talents for the soundtrack. I don't think Nahon's adaptation is quite as impressive as Kitakubo's short, but it's very enjoyable all the same. I was a little disappointed with the creature effects, which are rather lackluster and not nearly as interesting as in the original, but Saya's showdown with Onigen almost made up for them. So, last night was sort of like having Kindernacht on a Wednesday (traditionally, it's a Friday-night affair).


And here's the photo I mentioned in the first paragraph, the view from my open office window yesterday afternoon (it's kind of grainy, but you get the idea):

greygirlbeast: (talks to wolves)
Still cold and rainy here in Providence.

All of yesterday was consumed by two interviews. I began work on them around 12:30 p.m., and I did not finish until about 7 p.m. So, that's pretty much a six-and-a-half-hour interview. As many of you know, I do everything I can to avoid live interviews, preferring to do them via email. The interviewer sends me a batch of questions, which I then answer. This way, I am far more articulate. My few attempts at live interviews have been unqualified disasters (in my opinion; see the November 2008 Locus interview, for example), with the possible exception of the film interview I gave Frank Woodward for the documentary Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown. The two interviews yesterday, one was for a newspaper, the South County Independent, and the other was for the Brown University bookstore's newsletter. When all my answers were written out, my replies came to 5,783 words. By comparison, on an average writing day I do about 1,000 words. These are the last two interviews I intend to give to promote The Red Tree, the last two I intend to do anytime soon. I am all out of answers. I will be getting a call from the reporter with the South County Independent on Sunday evening, to go over the article and answer a few follow-up questions, but that shouldn't be so bad. Not like yesterday. Yesterday was murder. I think the vodka, Red Bull, and nicotine were the only things that got me through it.

Today, I begin work on Sirenia Digest #47.

To help offset the tax expenses, we've begun a new round of eBay auctions. Spooky got a few things up yesterday, but many more items will be added today. So, please do have a look and bid if you are so able. Every little bit helps. I will sign and personalize all books.

By the way, here's a new review of The Red Tree from the Brown University bookstore blog.

Also, I begin to suspect that we're never actually going to finish editing all the footage for the book trailer, and so I'm thinking I'll soon be posting a very incomplete cut of the trailer. At this point, it's about four months late.

Last night, we watched more Weeds (into Season Four now), and very late, we watched The Hunger for the thousandth or so time.

Time to make the doughnuts.
greygirlbeast: (Ellen Ripley 1)
Winter seems to have come to Providence last night. A low below freezing, frost warnings. I'm sure it'll warm up a little again, but...can't pretend it's "late summer" any longer. Cloudy and foul looking out there today.

Which is why Spooky made me get out of the house yesterday. We both knew no writing would be getting done, so there was no point in hanging about here. I'll go "back to work" tomorrow, after we spend today cleaning the place a bit. We've both been so busy, the clutter has gone wild. But yeah, tomorrow is all interviews: The South County Independent and the Brown University bookstore's newsletter. Then, on Saturday, I need to get started on Sirenia Digest #47. I am truly in no mood for interviews, but there you go.


Actually, not so much to tell. I'm still trying to get untired, so it was a low-impact day out. I just wanted to see some autumnal trees. Spooky suggested Wickford. As we were leaving Providence, we saw the most remarkable sky. I took photos (below), but they fail to capture the weirdness of that sky. It was all about color and contrast and a peculiar flatness. It was a videogame sort of sky. Some trick of sunlight and clouds and high-altitude ice crystals, I suspect. In Wickford, there weren't many interesting trees. I think we'll have to head out towards Conancut Island for that, or north towards Woonsocket. But we walked about the harbor and window shopped. We visited the worst witchcraft shop in New England. Truthfully, it's not a witchcraft shop, and I shouldn't dignify it with that label. This is the place that had never heard of athames. Just a big ol' New Age place. Lots of Buddha pop, crystals, chakra crap, chicken soup for the fluffy bunnies. They do "aura" photography and interpretation. That sort of nonesense. I mostly only go in there because it seems to make the employees nervous, ever since I explained athames to them. Anyway, yeah...we walked around and looked through dusty shop windows and at antiques and old houses and boats on the water. Wickford turned three hundred years old this year. The tide was coming in. The sky went from sunny with clouds to flat and leaden. I visited my favorite Wickford boat (again, photos below). That was about it. We were home before six p.m.

Last night, after Night Three of Spooky's patented four-night soup, we watched David Lynch's Inland Empire, which I'd been avoiding because I knew it would do a number on my head. And it did. A stunning, brilliant film. Mother and I are still collating. Also, I read the latest Buffy the Vampire Slayer trade paperback collection (the comic), Predators and Prey (Vol. 5). Other than Lovecraft Unound, I've been working my way through the September '09 Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, and, over the last few days, I've read: "A New Species of Apateodus (Teleostei: Aulopiformes) from the Upper Cretaceous Niobrara Chalk of Western Kansas, U.S.A.," "The Anatomy and Systematics of Colepiocephale lambei (Dinosauria: Pachycephalosauridae)," "Diprotodontid Footprints from the Pliocene of Central Australia," "Cranial Mechanics and Functional Interpretation of the Horned Carnivorous Dinosaur Carnotaurus sastrei," and "A New Beaked Whale (Odontoceti, Ziphiidae) from the Middle Miocene of Peru." We got in some WoW after David Lynch. We both needed something familiar and mindless, and WoW fills that bill. Our Draenei characters made Level 49.

And that was yesterday (and etc.).

Now I'm going to go help Spooky unclutter the house. Here are some photos:

14 October 2009 )
greygirlbeast: (Bowie3)
The LJ will now be known as "Unfit for Mass Consumption," until I grow weary of that title. At least it's an accurate description of the blog, and its author, and her writing. By the way, if you can tell me the film that title references, you win...absolutely nothing.

I've just received the illustration for "Shipwrecks Above" from Vince. So, I'm hoping that subscribers will have Sirenia Digest #46 by midnight EST.

As for yesterday, and the night before yesterday, and the day before that...

All of Monday was spent tweaking the ms. for The Ammonite Violin & Others, getting it ready to send to Subterranean Press. It needs at least one more day of tweaking, which I expect is what I'll be doing tomorrow. I did decide that the collection will be dedicated to Diane Arbus, and that the next one will be dedicated to Henry Darger, because it just seems right. Oh, there was also interview-related business on Monday. Turns out, I have two more to do, both in October, and then I'm saying "no" to everything until after I write the next novel. Well, unless it's Oprah fucking Winfrey or The New Yorker or something of that stripe. Not that The New Yorker and Oprah fucking Winfrey are of the same stripe, but there you go. Anyway, here's a link to one of the most recent interviews. I think it's actually one of the better I've given recently, if only because I'm so sick of doing them that it's a bit more "open" than usual.


Monday night, we discovered that Netflix is streaming Joel Schumacher's Flatliners (1990). I'd not seen it since the original theatrical release, and I wanted to see how well it had aged over the last 19 years. It's not too dated, and I still find it enjoyable. But I do think a really sublime premise was wasted on this film. One gets the feeling that the director or writer or who the hell ever got his paws on this rather grand premise (med students exploring what lies beyond brain death), but had absolutely no idea what to do with it, and so coughed up something flaccid (after death, we will all be haunted by our guilty consciousnesses).


Yesterday, not much work. There was a veil of anger I could not seem to think through (it's been with me a lot lately), so we took in an afternoon matinée of Jonathan Mostow's Surrogates. Again, great idea, not so stunning execution. Yes, someone needs to make a good sf thriller about the logical consequences of Second Life and the concept of robotic avatars, but, sadly, this is not it. Which is not to say that Surrogates is a bad film. But it's not very bright (which is what it most needed to be). Mostly, it's an okay sf/action flick, and I'd say wait for the DVD. It has some good moments here and there, though they mostly serve to remind one of the unrealized potential. There are some good visuals, and Bruce Willis rarely bores me. But the science has holes you could toss a small planet through (I'm thinking Mercury). We're told, for example, that something like 98% of all humans on Earth (about fourteen years from now) are using surrogates. And I immediately thought, how much do these things cost? Surely, inflation will continue in this future, and a surrogate is an infinitely more complex piece of technology than is, say, an iPod, iPhone, or the best available laptop. So, what charitable organization saw to it that the three billion or so people worldwide living below the poverty level (working from the World Bank's current estimate of people now living on less than $2/day and projected rates of population growth in developing nations) were provided surrogates? Now, maybe this is a future with far fewer people, and one without rampant poverty, but if so, we're not privy to that information.


Last night, we watched Dominic Sena's Kalifornia (1993), again because I was curious to see how well the film's held up after so many years. Much better than Flatliners, but then, it was a much better film to begin with. Neither Spooky nor I had seen it since it was new. But it still packs a wallop. Brad Pitt's Early Grayce is a joy to watch (a disgusting joy, admittedly), and utterly overshadows poor David Duchovny, who'd not yet grown much of a personality. Juliette Lewis gives one of her best performances, and Michelle Forbes (of whom I'm oddly fond) rounds out the foursome with one of her few genuinely good performances. The cinematography tries a bit too much to look like a Tony Scott film, but the script is sharp enough to make up the difference. So, yeah, still a very fine film, even with the unnecessary epilogue and Duchovny's sleep walking.

We also watched the new episode of Heroes, and another episode of Pushing Daisies. Yesterday, I really wasn't up to much but watching.


I had a fairly severe seizure yesterday at the market. It's one of the few that's happened any place public, and it left us both deeply shaken. It was violent, but brief. No one did anything stupid, like call an ambulance. Back home, I slept an hour or so, and felt a bit better.

And now, I take my platypus in hand and....
greygirlbeast: (Ellen Ripley 1)
A rainy grey day here in Providence. And I'm on Day 3 of the Everlasting Migraine. Or Day 4. It's all beginning to blur together, like overlapping pools of melted wax.

Yesterday, we drove down to Peace Dale Public Library, where I had a 3 p.m. meeting with a reporter from the South County Independent. My dislike of live interviews is well enough known, but it actually went well. We sat and talked until about 4:30 p.m., mostly about The Red Tree and "The Dead and the Moonstruck." And I do believe that will be my last interview for a while. Well, unless fucking Oprah calls or something of that magnitude. Ah, now there's a question. If I were invited to appear on Oprah (and, of course, there's a greater chance I'll be named pope), would you lose all respect for me if I accepted the invitation?

Grey today, yes, but yesterday, the sky was carnivorous, with only a few straggling wisps of cloud. The clouds only managed to make the sky more threatening. It was a clear, crisp early autumn day, the trees just beginning to take on colors other than green. Not the sort of day I like being out and under the sky, but there you go.

And here it is, already the 27th. I have to finish up with Sirenia Digest #46. Waiting on artwork from Vince for "Shipwrecks Above" before I begin layout. And I have to begin my YA Mars story, which is due on November 1st. I think it might be called "XX."

Thanks for all the comments to the last entry. I did read them all, even if I was not up to replying to them all. This one made me smile (from [ profile] fusijui):

I'm appalled at your cynical attempt to milk the Brachiosaurus scandal for attention. That radical scientists are attacking the ENTIRE BASIS for traditional Linnaean family values is a crisis of Western civilization, NOT an opportunity to boost your readership. If your readers were not degenerates and clapping zombies, they would have already swamped this so-called blog in healthy renunciations of the trendy Giraffatitan agenda.

And this one, as well, for entirely different reasons (from [ profile] tetar):

We are delicate with you about commenting too much, for fear of disturbing you, for fear of your thorns, and for fear, at times, of your art. It is a fear born of respect. Our dread is to guard your poise, and to avoid intruding. Know that we are here, eyes greedy for your words. Know we're with you in this dark. I don't know what else to say and feel I have probably said too much. Namaste.

Thank you.


We binged on Calfifornication last night and the night before, and have now seen all of Season One. Which we loved. Hank Moody is my newest hero.

I've been reading the latest Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, and, since my last entry, have finished "Bone histology and microanatomy of Alamosaurus sanjuanensis (Sauropoda: Titanosauria) from the Maastrichtian of Big Bend National Park, Texas" and "Hadrosaurid dinosaurs from the latest Creatceous of the Iberian Peninsula."


And now, please have a look at Spooky's Dreaming Squid Dollworks Etsy shop. She's been getting lots of new things up in time for Hallowe'en and Samhain.

There are more photos from Tuesday:

22 September 2009 )
greygirlbeast: (white)
A cool night last night. We slept with the windows closed. A cool day today. I could even have my coffee hot. Tropical Storm Danny has us in his sights.

By the way...I was under the impression that TS/Hurricane names were only used once. Yet, there was a Hurricane Danny in July 1997. Played merry havoc with the Gulf of Mexico.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,035 words and finally finished "Werewolf Smile." The piece started as an idea (conceived in the Peace Dale Public Library on August 20th), intended to be a 2,000-word vignette. But, by the time I reached THE END, it had grown into a 7,435 word short story. So, that's a little something extra for Sirenia Digest subscribers this month. Today, I'll be starting a second piece for #45, based on an illustration by Vince Locke (I'll post the illustration tomorrow), but I think we're talking trilobite sex. Regardless, this second piece has to be short, the vignette I mean it to be. My intentions have to count for something, as I'm very, very short on time.

Regardless, I'm glad to be done with "Werewolf Smile," as it was taking me someplace darker than even I am generally comfortable going. Then again, that might sound like hype, and truthfully, all this shit's subjective. Darkness is like eroticism, in its penchant for subjectivity. What you find painfully dark (or unbearably sexy), might have no effect on me. What takes me to the edge, might well leave you cold.

Please have a look at the latest round of eBay auctions. Bid if you are so able and inclined. Thank you. We tend to offer the hard-to-find books more cheaply than you will find them elsewhere.

No work on the website last night. I was just too tired after finishing the story. Maybe tonight.

Also, if you've not yet picked up a copy of The Red Tree, please do so, whether it's from Amazon or some other source. Every sale counts. Also, I'll repost the link to the recent Subterranean Press interview, which is mostly concerned with The Red Tree.
greygirlbeast: (The Red Tree)
Today the weather is a little cooler, but the heat will be back tomorrow. And then it's supposed to cool off again on Thursday. Frankly, I just want a day cool enough in the House that we can do normal things, like clean and cook.

My recent Subterranean Magazine interview is now online: Feeding the Tree - An Interview with Caitlín R. Kiernan.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,152 words on "Werewolf Smile," but did not find THE END. This has turned out to be one of those pieces. I meant it to be a vignette, and it's turned into a full-fledged short story. But I must find the ending today, as I still have a second piece to write for Sirenia Digest #45. This is, by the way, another story about my mysterious recurring, fairy-tale obsessed painter of the grotesque, Albert Perrault. I started wondering how many times he's shown up in stories. Here's the list I've come up with (in chronological order):

1) "The Road of Pins"
2) "La Peau Verte"
3) "Rappaccini's Dragon (Murder Ballad No. 5)"
4) The Red Tree
5) "Last Drink Bird Head"
6) "Werewolf Smile"

I am fairly certain there are other examples that aren't coming to mind. This is what happens when you write as much as I do. You lose track of characters. Anyway, if his first appearance really is "The Road of Pins," he's been in my head since 2001, and "Werewolf Smile" might be the closest I've come to writing about him directly.

A thought that just crossed my mind, and I present it disconnected from all the thoughts that inspired it: Increasingly, I feel as though I'm writing for some past generation, some past decade. Maybe the 1950s. Maybe even further back. It's a strange sensation. Some new expression of my long-standing temporal dysphoria, or a fear that most people who read no longer read in a way that's conducive to the way I write.

Yesterday, [ profile] blakesrealm asked:

This is just a personal curiosity thing ... Does it matter how a book is bought, in terms of recording a sale I mean? My wife and I bought our copy at our local Borders store with one of their coupons (in this case it was 40% off of a paperback) they email on occasion. Does buying it with a discount coupon change the type of sale it is, or is a sale a sale?

All sales of new copies of The Red Tree are equal. It doesn't matter if you buy it from Amazon, another online bookseller, a big-box brick and mortar store, your local independent/mom and pop, or the dealer's room at a con. Roc printed X number (the number is unknown to me) of copies of the trade paperback, and they all need to sell. But it truly does not matter who you buy them from. A sale is a sale is a sale. Well, unless you find it used somewhere (truly used, as in previously owned and being sold by a previous owner); those don't count, as it's a resell. But thanks for asking.

The current round of eBay auctions continues. Please have a look.

And the platypus says we're out of time for now. And I need more coffee...
greygirlbeast: (The Red Tree)
I'm running late today, after inexplicably sleeping too much. And the dreamsickness has been much worse than usual. Only now is it starting to fade. Imagine, a worldwide high communicable, plague of inevitably fatal dysentery, the whole world shitting itself to death, only it isn't funny. Yeah, I don't know where I get this stuff.

A couple or three things I want to mention before I forget. First, Frank Woodward's Lovecraft documentary, Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown, will be released on DVD October 13th. It features interviews with me, Neil Gaiman, Peter Straub, Ramsey Campbell, John Carpenter, Guillermo Del Toro, Stuart Gordon, S.T. Joshi, and others. Also, my first ever interview with a gaming slant is now online. Finally, there's a short "writing of The Red Tree" essay up at (usa), "The Genesis of The Red Tree."

Yesterday, I did 1,312 words and finished "January 28, 1926." I have Dr. Muñoz to thank for keeping the office cool enough that I could actually work. I also signed a bunch of bookplates for Barnes and Noble Towson Circle, in Towson, Maryland. So, if you live in or near Towson, be aware that there will soon be signed copies of The Red Tree at Barnes and Noble Towson Circle. Oh, and I signed a whole bunch of books for eBay. Today, if I can shake off the nastiness, I have to get Sirenia Digest #44 together. Or mostly together.

The Very Special eBay auction continues.

I'm getting reports, from as far away as the Netherlands and as near to home as Brooklyn, that The Red Tree is already showing up on bookstore shelves and arriving from pre-orders. So much for street dates, I suppose. Which is cool, only I sort of like having benchmarks, being able to say, here, this is release day. It's official. The book is out. But, hey, that's just me.

Cloudy today, but hot. I assume storms are inbound.
greygirlbeast: (The Red Tree)
As of last night, or so I am told, the cache of evidence displayed on the website has grown slightly. Myself, I'd take this whole matter with a grain of salt. A few photographs and pages of typescript, and what does this amount to? Well, I suppose that is the question.

Yesterday, it rained. The temperatures stayed in the 60sF, I think. It felt like March all over again, and so did my mood. Some sun today, and that's a relief.

Another interview yesterday (third in a week), and another today. These things really start to wear on me. I can only talk about myself so much before I begin to feel like an absolute jackass. It's not quite the same as doing the LJ, not quite, though there are times when I'm making an entry here, and, honestly, I want to say, "Hey, Kiernan! Shut it! We've heard enough, okay?" Lines from a Sarah Mclachlan song run through my head. Everybody loves you when you're easy. Everybody hates when you're a bore. I'm not easy. I'm never easy. But, you never, ever turn down an interview. Never. Well, unless it's with The Watchtower or FOXNews or something insane like that. This was drilled into me early in my career by two writers with far more experience than me. I won't name them here. One said, "You have to be an interview whore. Never turn down an interview." So, I have another interview today.

Some day soon, I may go back to just being a writer. Wasn't that sufficient punishment? Personally, I prefer to cloak my autobiographical statements in veils of fiction, in pretty words.

But...I do have an announcement. It looks as if I will only be doing one reading/signing to promote The Red Tree. It will be at Pandemonium Books & Games in Boston. Well, technically, it's in Cambridge. 4 Pleasant Street, Cambridge, Mass. And it will be August 6th. I'll post more details when they've been worked out. If you're anywhere in the Providence/Boston area and want to see me do a raeding from The Red Tree, this may be your only chance. Also, note that the store will have my books for sale, but I'll sign anything you bring (no limit). I'll be making an appearance in NYC in October, but that's to support Ellen Datlow's Lovecraft Unbound anthology.

Oh, and T-shirts are probably a go, but I think we're nixing the sticker idea. Details TBA. Meanwhile, if you want to help promote the novel, there are two things you can do (aside from buying multiple copies of The Red Tree): 1) print out and distribute copies of the flier that you can download at the website. Just click "Feed the Tree." 2) Spread the URL for the website everywhere. Repost it in your own blog, LJ, on Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, any place at all. Write it on a bathroom wall. Every single copy sold is a victory. Thank you. Spread the word. Feed the Tree.

The current round of eBay auctions is almost over. But it's not too late to bid on three of the items.

Last night, we watched the director cut of Zack Snyder's adaptation of Watchmen, and I liked it even more than the theatrical cut (which, you may recall, I loved almost unconditionally). So, that was a bright spot in the grey smudge of yesterday. Well, a grimly bright spot. True, I'd have been happier if we'd seen more of Silhouette, but there you go.

And now it's time to answer questions....
greygirlbeast: (chi 5)
Gagh, I can't wake up today. I think there was just too much work yesterday, too many different sorts of work. We had actually talked about getting out of bed and making the 11:45 a.m. matinée of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, but, well, that didn't happen. We're aiming for tomorrow, instead. And this needs to be short, because the day ahead of me is long and baffling and has many twists and turns, and doesn't even involve actual, you know, writing. The writing will likely resume tomorrow. It pretty much has to, or I'm going to find myself disastrously behind.

Quick recap of yesterday. Well, there was a piece I had to write for my editor, about the writing of The Red Tree, something for the Penguin website. That actually turned out rather well. She was pleased with it. And after that, I had an interview, which also went well, I think. The older I get, the odder interviews seem to me. The questions all begin to bleed together, and I find myself wanting to talk about quasars or stag beetles or plate tectonics or just about anything at all except my books and writing. No, I have no idea why, really. And there was a lot of email yesterday, more than usual, and it looks as though today will be much the same. Actually, I must have written at least 3,000 words yesterday, just none of it fiction. Did I say "Gagh"? Spooky and I both put in a good bit of time getting things ready for the re-relaunch of the website.

Speaking of which, here is a small but, I think, valuable piece of advice to the readers of this blog. If you don't approve of how I've done something —— the website, for example —— there is a couth and appropriate recourse which will allow you to express your opinion. Email me. It's not at all hard to find my email address, but, just in case I'm somehow mistaken on that count, I'll post it here again: greygirlbeast(at)gmail(dot)com. Email me and tell me your thoughts, if you feel the need to do so. I'll read the email. I might even write back. Hell, I might even agree. However, if, instead, you blurt out something in the comments here on the LJ, you will discover that I am far less receptive to your advice. In fact, odds are, I will delete the comment, and if you've been rude enough, I will ban you from commenting in the future. This very scenario actually occurred on Friday morning, as I was trying to get out the door for Readercon, which is why I closed down comments to one particular entry. If the most tactful way you are capable of expressing yourself is to tell me something "sucks," and to tell me publicly, yes, you will be banned.

Now, this sort of thing has only happened a very few times. My ban list on LJ is extremely short. Maybe six or seven people, at most, over five years. I like comments. I like comments a lot, but I don't like rude and unsolicited criticism. Thank you.

A brief aside, for whatever it's worth, a shout out to [ profile] ericmvan. You've done a marvelous job with Readercon, and I, for one, completely understand and sympathize with what you're saying about not being able to keep up this pace, needing to scale back for a year while a team is trained to do the job.

Also, I'm reposting the following, as it only made it into yesterday's entry as a postcript: Thanks to Franklin Harris ([ profile] grandmofhelsing) for bringing this Readercon write up to my attention ("Some important things/people that I saw/met/learned/heard about at Readercon" at I quote: "I didn't talk to Caitlín Kiernan, but I watched her swanning around in a tentacled mask and grey lipstick, and I felt awe. It is so important that cons have freakish people at them." I'm going to take this as a compliment. Did I "swan" around? There is an Old English meaning of the word, "to wander about without purpose, but with an air of superiority." So maybe I did swan around. Bjork and I, we swan. Also, the lipstick was green. Regardless, good to be mentioned, and yes, I am a freak, and I'm pleased the author included the fada in my name.

Which reminds me of something funny that came up at Readercon. Years and years ago, someone actually referred to me as "the Oscar Wilde of fantasy." Yep, they really did. As [ profile] readingthedark said this past weekend, now I only have to be considered "the William Gibson of science fiction, or the Stephen King of horror."

And how come I never saw the page devoted to my writing that's up at It includes one of the best reviews I've ever read of Daughter of Hounds. I haven't yet had time to read their review of Silk. Actually, Spooky read me the review of Daughter of Hounds late last night, after she stumbled upon the page.

And, finally, we're trying to raise just a little cash to help out with the book trailer by beginning another round of eBay auctions. Have a look, and bid if you are able and so disposed. And yes, I'm covering all the expenses of the video production myself. I can't recall if I've said that already or not. to milk the platypus.
greygirlbeast: (Eli1)
Okay. Back to work today.

The last couple of days were nice. Sonya ([ profile] sovay) came down from Boston on Tuesday evening. Spooky and I met her at the train station, then the three of us had dinner at an Indian place on Wickenden Street. Later, back home, we made a double feature of "Once More, With Feeling" (from Season Five of Buffy the Vampire Slayer) and Repo! The Genetic Opera. And Sonya and I sat up late, talking about books and writing, mostly.

Yesterday, the three of us saw the matinée performance of Laura Schellhardt's play Shapeshifter, at the Trinity Repertory Company in the Dowling Theater on Washington Street. It was wonderful, an Orkney village confronted with a swan, a selkie, and a dragon, and the consequences of allowing (or forcing) them to live among humans, as humans. After the play, we went to Benefit Street, to the Providence Athenaeum, and I met Geoffrey Goodwin ([ profile] readingthedark), so that he could finish up his interview with me (place and date of publication TBA). It's wonderful, sitting downstairs at the Athenaeum, surrounded by the scent of old books and old wood, with the ghosts of Poe and Lovecraft. It went very well, and, afterwards, we swung back by the house to get Sonya's things. Her train back to Boston left Providence about 7:20 p.m.

So, yes. A very good, if somewhat exhausting, two days. Last night, Spooky and I had leftover Chinese, watched three episodes of The X-Files, and she read me another chapter from The Voyage of the Narwhal, but I had trouble staying awake.

A quick thank you for gifts, to Melissa, Geoffrey, Sonya, Jada, and whoever sent me the copy of Serenity: Better Days. Thank you all. Also, my thanks to everyone who wished me a happy -05th birthday (mostly on Facebook). Someone asked what "-05" means. Simply, a sum of years I wish not to name, plus five.

If you've not already, please consider picking up a copy of the new-trade paperback edition of Alabaster and/or a copy of the the mass-market paperback of Daughter of Hounds.

Here in Providence, it's been grey and chilly since Tuesday. I say it feels more like March, than latest May, but I'm new to these parts and still making the adjustment.

Oh, and my thanks to Derek, for sending this exquisite link.

Finally, could someone please send me a Dreamwidth invitation?
greygirlbeast: (Ellen Ripley 1)
This morning, stuck in a dream I genuinely do not want to remember, I'm listening to ABBA. The hope was that ABBA was absurd enough to dispel the dreamsickness. But, so far, it's only adding a surreal fucking soundtrack to my recollections of the nightmare. Having written "The Z Word," you'd think I'd know better.

Yesterday, we made it to page 249 of The Red Tree. I'm not good with tedium, not good at all. We very much need to finish with this round of line edits today, so I can begin to address the more substantive issues raised in the editorial letter, but my mind reels at the thought of forcing my way through five more chapters of the most minute mistakes possible. We still have 148 pages to go. Argh.

So, the book that will include my comments on Second Life as a tool for fiction writers is Jeff VanderMeer's forthcoming Booklife: Strategies and Survival Tips for 21st Century Writers (Tachyon Publications, September-October 2009). As to exactly what I said, you'll have to wait for the book's release. Though, I will admit here, I didn't pull any punches, and that I continue to view SL as an untapped resource for writers, and, perhaps, as an inherently untappable resource, given the reluctance and/or inability of most of the "inhabitants" of SL to engage in fully immersive, simulationist roleplay, the sort that has the potential to create the interactive stories I've tried to foster there. As it stands, SL is, sadly, very little more than just another social-networking/dating service.

I'm getting reports that some people who've pre-ordered A is for Alien from Amazon are encountering problems with their orders. I've been told that some in the U.S. are being informed their orders will not ship until the middle of March, though subpress is shipping the book now. I've gotten word from a reader in England who pre-ordered the book months ago, but says that Amazon is now refusing to ship it to the UK. I exchanged email with Bill Schafer about all this an hour or so ago, and I am told more copies of the book have been sent to Amazon. But it takes time for Amazon to process and ship them out to buyers. Hence the delay. As for the UK problem, I honestly have no idea what's up. But I will reiterate that supplies are running very low, and there are presently no plans for a reprinting, so you should order now, directly from Subterranean Press. I'm disheartened that people are having trouble with Amazon, and I do apologize for that (though, obviously, I have no control over what Amazon does).

Also, I thought I should repost the link for the "A is for Alien in 60 Seconds" article at

As I said yesterday, A is for Alien is very near to selling out. The limited edition is down to less than 25 copies, and 75% of the regular trade edition's printing has now sold. And my very grateful thanks to everyone who has ordered the book.

Last night, we watched Wes Anderson's Rushmore (1998), certainly one of the most brilliant psychonerd movies in the history of film. And Shaharrazad reached Level 60.

It's getting late, and the platypus is giving me the hairy eyeball. But I thought I'd leave you with one last image from Monday's trip to Moonstone Beach. Here we have proof positive that the seas do indeed harbour a heretofore undescribed family of iron squid:

Ferropetrateuthidae )
greygirlbeast: (Blood elf 2)
An especially unnerving dream this ayem, and I've not been this dreamsick in——I don't know——weeks. I'm trying to focus on the sunlight in my office, the music, the coffee, these words. Anything but the events of the goddamn dream.

I think the micro-vacation has turned into a nano-vacation, as I'm going to spend today assembling Sirenia Digest #38. This month, subscribers get two new stories, "The Thousand-and-Third Tale of Scheherazade" and "The Belated Burial," and, the former will have an illustration by Vince. This is, you'll remember, the Edgar Allan Poe tribute issue, so there will also be art by Harry Clarke, I think, and there might be a very special surprise. I hope to get the issue out to subscribers before midnight tonight. If you are not a subscriber, that's easily enough remedied. Just click here.

The recent short interview I gave regarding A is for Alien, to SCi Fi Wire/, will be up on February 2nd, I think; I'll post the link as soon as I have it.

As for yesterday, I spent most of it in bed. We watched Wes Anderson's Bottle Rocket (1996). Anderson is one of my favourite living directors, but I'd never seen Bottle Rocket (and still haven't seen Rushmore [1997]). Anyway, I loved the film, which is no surprise. The man is frakking brilliant. Also, I got some reading done: comic strips by Windsor McKay, papers in the latest Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology. I didn't sleep, which had sort of been the plan. Spooky got takeaway wonton soup for lunch, from our regular Chinese place. There was a small seizure, which, of course, did nothing to make me less exhuasted. Then, last night, I got back to WoW after mostly avoiding it the last couple of weeks. Shaharrazad made Level 57, and earned the "accomplishment" for completing 500 quests. Mostly, I've had her running low-level missions to become exalted with Undercity. I am not a power leveler. I figure by the time Spooky and I finally finish The Burning Crusade, we'll be able to pick up Wrath of the Lich King dirt cheap. June or July, maybe. After WoW, there was some good rp in Second Life, my paraplegic vampire. And after that, I went to bed, but proceeded to watch two episodes from Season Two of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. This is called avoiding sleep.

I think I've decided to proceed with the podcast idea. Likely, I'll record two or three stories from early issues of Sirenia Digest. I'll first make one available exclusively to subscribers for free, then offer them all via iTunes. Also, I'm going to have someone local make mp3s of all the old Death's Little Sister recordings, and get those up on iTunes (more as a curiosity than anything else).

And now, it's time to start assembling the Digest.

They're starting to open up the sky.
They're starting to reach down through.
And it feels like we're living in that split-second
Of a car crash.
And time is slowing down.
(NIN, which I quote here against the goddamn dream)
greygirlbeast: (Bowie3)
Overwhelmed by dream this morning. The insomnia finally broke, as the snow broke (causal connection or coincidence, I don't know), and I was assailed by dreams I won't repeat here. I slept almost nine hours. Now, I feel like my body is trying to recollect how to breathe. The sun is out, a white hole bored in a too-blue sky, a single white eye staring out, and it's blinding, shining off all that snow. The temperature is 18F (with the wind chill at 1F). Spooky says there won't be much melting today.

And yes, this is my 2,000th entry this LiveJournal since it was begun back on April 15th, 2004. I shudder to think how many millions of words, how many days worth of composition. And, of course, that's just LJ. This journal was begun to mirror my now moribund Blogger journal, which was begun in November 2001, and so there are surely another two thousand entries over there. Taken together, it's a damned peculiar document.

I feel like this is one of those entries where there's too much that needs to be said, and too little time to say it. I am reminded of Dark City, when Dr. Schreber is about to inject John Murdoch with the memories that will allow him to best the Strangers. Schreber says, "I'm sorry, but I have no time to do this the right way." But at least that statement can serve as a starting point.

I should have gotten this next bit up days ago, but what with the snow, the tooth pain, and the insomnia, I kept forgetting. Here's the deal: For a limited time (I'm not sure how limited), Locus is making a special offer to my readers. Simply put, you may order the issue with the interview I did for Locus (December 2008), postage free (save $3.00), or get it completely free with a one-year subscription. To receive this special offer, follow this link. Also, you may see the cover from the relevant issue behind this cut (and it's also a link):

LOCUS offer )

Day before yesterday, an idea for a new story came to me. Not a vignette, but an actual short story, one that would work quite well for Sirenia Digest. A Dracula story, as it happens. Something about the three brides who were left behind, and then killed later by Van Helsing. Then, yesterday, the crux of the story came to me. The thing that I suppose some people would call the "plot." I'm never clear on exactly what a "plot" is supposed to be. Anyway, this would be a story wherein we learn that the brides were the vampires who, in fact, infected Dracula, not the other way around. That they were the true source of power, and that when Dracula departs for London, he is fleeing, and he leaves them Harker, hoping to distract them just long enough to make his escape. The story would be set a hundred or so years later, and the narrative would be fragmented, representing the inability of these ancient creatures to perceive time the way that mortals do. All of that came to me yesterday morning in a bright flash (this sort of thing does not usually happen to me). I sat down to write, and all I could find, instead of the beginning, was the title, "There Are Kisses For Us All." Suddenly, I was afraid that so much of this story had occurred to me because I'd either already written it, or because someone else had already written it. I suspected Angela Carter, and took Burning Your Boats down off the shelf, thinking if this were the case, I knew exactly where to look.

I read both "The Scarlet House" and "The Lady of the House of Love" aloud to Spooky while she sorted a box of fabric scraps, and I was relieved to see I'd not lifted the story from Carter. Also, though, I was amazed at these two marvelous tales, and how they play one off the other, as the author has a first and then a second try at the same problem. "The Lady in the House of Love" was first published (in The Iowa Review) in 1975, while "The Scarlet House" was first published later, in 1977. I don't know which one was written first, but, clearly, in both examples, Carter was working through the same set of concerns. And, fortunately, those concerns share very little ground with what I hope to do with "There Are Kisses For Us All."

So, today I will try to make a beginning....

And, of course, today is Cephalopodmas, the final part of my November/December holiday triumvirate (Jethro Tull Season/Solstice/Cephalopodmas). I'd meant to write a new carol this year, but never got around to it. Hell, Spooky and I never even got around to procuring one another Cephalopodmas gifts. I suppose that means we'll have to...get creative...tonight. Anyway, yes, a very Merry Cephalopodmas, Cthulhu damn us everyone.

Last night, there was World of Warcrack, and Shaharrazad, my blood elf warlock, reached Level 43. Suraa, Spooky's blood elf paladin, is now at Level 44, because I haven't been playing quite as much, and so she's gotten a little ahead. Also, I'm very annoyed that I've gotten my skinning skills up to 300, which means I qualify for "Master Skinner" or whatever. Only to be awarded that title, I have to reach the Hellfire Peninsula in Outland (the remains of the orc homeworld), BUT, I need to be Level 58 or higher to pass through the Dork reach Outland. Blizzard excels at placing the cart before the horse. Anyway, we also read from The Historian last night.

The current eBay auctions continue. Please have a look.

And now, kiddos, it's time to make the doughnuts.
greygirlbeast: (white)
The snow should begin in another half hour or so. I'm sitting here, sipping coffee, staring out my window, waiting. There are small birds out there, flittering busily about. At least, their flittering presents the illusion of business. The illusion or the impression. I appears we may be snowed in all weekend.

I have my pain pills, and coffee, and the peppermint Altoids that make the cough better. So, there you go.

I think this is the most exquisite bit of song lyric, from the Editors' "Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors" (probably, I've already quoted it in an earlier entry):

Pull the blindfold down,
So your eyes can't see.
Now, run as fast as you can,
Through this field of trees.

Those lines, they might be the first words whispered to the first woman by a sadistic god trying to explain what it will be like to live. Or they might be the mercy of a serial killer. They might only be a fraternity game. No, this isn't headed anywhere in particular. This day isn't headed anywhere in particular. Except for the snow.

I'm trying to find the first vignette for Sirenia Digest #37. I've been trying to think about cats, but keep coming back to vampires. I think it's the tongues. I have always thought that vampires would have rough tongues (and I wrote them that way in The Five of Cups). It just makes sense. Werewolves do not have rough tongues.

We went out for groceries yesterday afternoon, and I was amazed to see that, here in Providence, the first mention of snow does not lead to markets bereft of bread and milk.* And the cold Outside rendered everything so amazingly still. Even the cars on the road, though moving, seemed perfectly still. The river seemed still. I watched a woman sitting on a corner; she was smoking a cigarette, and even the smoke she exhaled seemed still. Few things are as ominous as this sort of pervasive stillness. But, it was peaceful, too. Ominous peace, I suppose. The sunlight was like spilled orange juice.

Last night, we read the first two chapters of The Historian, which I'm quite pleased with, so far.

Nice and much appreciated emails yesterday from a reader in New Hampshire and another in Roskilde, Denmark. The email from Roskilde came from Lars Ahn Pedersen, who knew the name of the woman who took the photographs for the Locus interview. Apparently, she's Amelia Beamer, which I should have remembered on my own. Oh, the New Hampshire email was from "Michael B in frozen Manchester." Everywhere, it's still.

I should wrap this up. Please do have a look at the current ebay auctions. Spooky has added Letter V of Frog Toes and Tentacles. The book comes in a handmade (by Spooky) crushed velvet "cozy," lined with red silk. Only a few of these cozies exist...maybe six...and we've not offered them since 2006, I think. We will likely offer only one or two in this round of auctions, and then there will be no more for a long time. Have a look. Bid if you are so disposed. Thanks.

Oh, and there's this peculiar jot of frippery:

Haiku2 for greygirlbeast
of the forsaken
it's good to me it's
very odd that i've
Created by Grahame

* Spooky just informed me the situation would have been different had we gone to Stop & Shop. So, never mind.
greygirlbeast: (sleeps with wolves)
Wow. Somehow, I managed to sleep 8.5 hours last night and this ayem. At a stretch. Without waking up even once. I didn't open my eyes until after noon. Amazing. Now, if I can only manage that about 13 more times....

I awoke to discover a smattering of wintry precipitation, the first I've seen in New England. A tiny bit of melting snow, some ice. The fireplace is reassuring.

Sirenia Digest #36 went out late, late last night, or, rather, early, early this ayem. Gordon Duke ([ profile] thingunderthest) and I were still working on it (thanks to the wonder of gmail chat) after midnight. I think it's an especially good issue, if I do say so myself (and I just did), so I hope other people enjoy. I was really pleased to get John Santerineross. His work is simply brilliant. I wish he'd do a tarot deck. Anyway, please do post your comments and thoughts on the issue. I'm especially curious how readers will react to "Dancing With the Eight of Swords."

I have the issue of Locus with my interview (December 2008, Issue #575, Vol. 61, No. 6, pp. 84-86). Not sure when the street date is. The article's called "Transmutations," which pleases me. You can see the cover image here. My thanks to Liza Trombi (Executive Editor), who conducted the actual interview during ReaderCon 19, back in July, and to the girl who took the photos (I think her name was Amanda, though, strangely, she's not credited in the magazine), because I've looked far worse in published photos. Also, my thanks to Tim Pratt (a senior editor), who edited the rambling conversation into something coherent. I was both sick and exhausted that day, and it amazes me I managed to make any sense at all. My copies of the magazine actually arrived day before yesterday, but I was angry about the Avon delaying the opening of Låt den rätte komma in, and also trying to finish "Dancing With the Eight of Swords," so Spooky hid them from me until this morning. She is a wise woman.

I also spoke with Bill Schafer about A is for Alien yesterday, which will go to the printer soon. The end sheets and cloth binding will be black. Well, for the regular edition the endsheets will be white. The foil embossing on the cloth with be red. Oh, and Amazon has The Red Tree up for pre-order, even though it's not due out until August 4th, 2009. No, I don't actually expect anyone to pre-order the book this insanely early. I haven't even written the epilogue yet! But pre-orders on A is for Alien are immensely appreciated, especially pre-orders of the limited edition. Thanks.

Okay. I'm going to go forth and do nothing whatsoever.
greygirlbeast: (Ellen Ripley 1)
I can still be amazed. For example, how yesterday went from being a perfectly dreadful excuse for a Hallowe'en, to one of the best I've had in recent memory. And all thanks to a suggestion from [ profile] prynnesneedle, who proposed that Spooky and I check out The Steel Yard's annual Hallowe'en iron pour. Which we did, but more on that momentarily.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,340 words on "Metamorphosis C" (and I really have to find a better title). The story is deep in dream. I'm coming to love this one. It's far more concerned with disjointed imagery than coherent, linear narrative. This is, partly, a response to approaching a subject that could easily turn out lurid and flatly pornographic (or worse). Sometimes, we must come at stories sidewise, from some position they are least expecting. We must use tact and strategy. I'm not sure if that's the Royal We or not. Sometimes, we must be abstract, impressionistic, realizing that mere representation is not sufficient to the task at hand. The "shape" of this story is beginning to remind me of Kate Bush's The Ninth Wave (though it's actually being written to David Bowie's Outside). I'm keeping the futuristic trappings to a minimum, and the science is being presented as obliquely as possible. This story returns again to the horror of body and mind, the dread of the prison of flesh, which I am, obviously, never far from. It's a conundrum for me. I am simultaneously mortified and joyous, on the subject of the flesh. I suppose that this story is a return to the problem of morphological freedom. Anyway, yes, it should be finished tomorrow evening, and for those who may have missed the announcement earlier this week, Sirenia Digest #35 will be late. Well, it already is, actually. Finishing The Red Tree on time, there's your culprit. The new issue will go out on November 3rd, which means you get two issues this month.

Also, yesterday, there was some business with Bill at subpress regarding A is for Alien, and more talk with folks from Locus about my interview (look for it in the December issue). I got yet another royalty check from Candlewick Press for "The Dead and the Moonstruck," the story that just keeps on paying (it appears in the YA antho Gothic! Ten Original Dark Tales, by the way).

And when all that was done, disgusted with being "at home," we dashed out into the chilly twilight. It's going to be a day or two before I get all our photographs edited, so, until then, a video clip from last year's iron pour will have to suffice. It really was a marvelous evening, and very much suited to the sabat. We sat in the grass, beneath the open sky, only a few feet from the showers of molten steel raining down across the ground, bathed in the heat from the liquid metal and the blast furnace. There were even zombies! And pumpkins flung with a trebuchet. And all this amongst the old warehouse's over on Sims Avenue. The Iron Guild is one of my new favourite things, so, again, thank you [ profile] prynnesneedle. If you will email me your snail-mail address (to greygirlbeast[at]gmail[dot]com), I will send you a signed book, to show my gratitude for your suggestion having saved Hallowe'en/Samhain for me and Spooky.

I should also thank [ profile] tinkbell for kindly inviting us to a big party, with bands, in Olneyville. But I think our mood last night was better served by fire.

Oh, here's the video:


After the pour, and a late dinner, we watched Alfonso Cuarón's adaptation of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004). It's almost certainly the most artful of the Harry Potter films to date (love the iris shots), and also the best suited to Hallowe'en. And after that, there was a little WoW. Mithwen (my night-elf fighter) reached Lvl 30, the first of my characters to do so, and also got most of her hair cut off. The girl has definite gender issues, but I think she's starting to work through them. She just needs a bigger...sword. So, yes, all that glumness, and it was a truly grand Samhain, regardless.

Now, I write. C'mon, platypus. Oh, and a Hopeful New Year, to all those reading this who mark November 1st as the beginning of the year. Or, at least, I shall wish you a Somewhat Less Grim New Year. That's probably to best I can honestly manage.
greygirlbeast: (chi6)
So...yeah, the BBC2 interview for The Culture Show went well, I think. We did it this afternoon (for me, at least it was afternoon), in the Abney Park laboratory. The episode will air next Saturday, if you happen to get Scottish television and would like to know what a NeoVictorian Nebari/Gallifreyan time-traveler has to say about the relevance of Beowulf to the modern world. I have no idea how it's going to come across on the screen, but, if it works out, maybe I have a new medium for doing live interviews.

I have a long entry I want and need to make, but right now I'm just too fried. I'll save it for tomorrow morning.

Oh, but I will note that someone at Locus is very fond of "The Ape's Wife", and my thanks to Sonya Taaffe and Sean Wallace for alerting me to the review, which reads:

"'The Ape's Wife' by Caitlín R. Kiernan (September) is a majestic novelette imagining varying scenarios for the climax of King Kong: does Ann Darrow, the beauty played by Fay Wray, truly return to New York, or does she stay on Skull Island? Is she marooned, a high priestess, or (back in America) an embittered, aging alcoholic, otherwise an older woman pondering Kong's skeleton, now a neglected museum exhibit? Is Kong god to a destroyed Manhattan? These possibilities progress through Ann's dreaming mind powerfully and very memorably."

Oh, and speaking of Beowulf, how about a letter from a reader, just to round it all out? Jason Schmus writes:

I recently picked up your novelization of the Beowulf script, and am enjoying it so far, but that little dedication at the beginning is driving me nuts. My high school Latin is twenty plus years behind me, and the little that remains serves me only to fill in crossword puzzles, translate the odd motto, or to work out unfamiliar word derivations. I just don't remember enough to puzzle it out. Something something defend us from the wolves?

The Latin phrase in question is Talibus laboribus lupos defendimus, which translates as "By such labours do we ward off the wolves."
greygirlbeast: (Bowie3)
Yesterday, I did 1,781 words. And if that's not getting back on the horse, I don't know what is.

[ profile] curt_holman's Creative Loafing interview is out. If you're in the Atlanta area, you can read the hard-copy version, though the online version is quite a bit longer.

And the signature sheets for Tales from the Woeful Platypus just arrived. Thump, on my porch. Because the UPS guy can't be bothered. So, I'll have to get to those sometime today or tomorrow and get them back to subpress. There are still copies of the trade hardback available, at this writing.

Sometimes people do very nice things. For example, a reader who wishes to remain anonymous, and so to whom I shall refer simply as the "kindly but anonymous ichthyologist," wrote yesterday afternoon to ask if, in light of the theft of Spooky's iBook, I had any use for a spare 13" G3 500MHz iBook, with a 15GB hard drive and 512 MB ram. I admitted that it would be enormously helpful at this point, and it will be arriving here on Friday (which is tomorrow, I see). I am left somewhat speechless at such generosity and wish the kindly but anonymous ichthyologist had allowed me to thank herhimit by name. Now, we can get back to work on the website redesign and get the eBay auctions going again and attend to other things that have been being ignored. Thank you, kindly but anonymous ichthyologist.

Someone in the U.K. asked yesterday about the availability of Daughter of Hounds in Britain. As there is no British edition, the best I can suggest is online ordering. You may acquire it from, for example, by following this link. Otherwise, it might turn up in some bookshops, here and there.

I would like to ask, at this point, that if you have purchased and read Daughter of Hounds and if you enjoyed it, that you please, please spread the word, in whatever way you might. Recommend it to a friend or family member (but make them buy their own copy). Mention it on your LJ or blog. At this point, every little bit helps. Give copies as belated Xmas/Solstice/whatever gifts. Ask your library to get a copy. I have never before felt so certain that the remainder of my career as a novelist depends upon the sales of a particular book. I thank you, for whatever you may do.

Last night, we watched Neil Burger's The Illusionist, adapted for the screen from Steven Millhauser's short story "Eisenheim, the Illusionist." And I found it delightful and beautiful. The cast was superb — Edward Norton, Paul Giamatti, Rufus Sewell, Jessica Biel & etc. The cinematography, with its muted palette and gaslight flicker, was perfection. As was the Philip Glass score. This is one of those 2006 films I wish I could have caught in the theatre, as it was certainly one of the better films of the year. Later, we read more of Christopher Priest's The Prestige, which kept us up until 2 a.m.

The platypus insists I stop journalizing now and get to work. Venomous spurs have been bared, so I must obey. But...there is a photo (behind the cut), just Hubero in a sunbeam, something of yesterday worth remembering.

Mr. H. P. Wu )


greygirlbeast: (Default)
Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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