greygirlbeast: (white2)
Any email that begins "Dear Beloved Friend" (or that has those words in its subject line) is either from a funeral parlor, evangelical Xtians, or an East-African money laundering scam.

I managed to get to sleep by three ayem this morning, and slept eight and a half hours, which is all but unheard of, as me and sleep goes. Yesterday's mood was so black, just before midnight I gave up trying to do much of anything. But, I'm getting ahead of myself, having begun the wrong way round.

It's raining today. I already miss the sunlight of yesterday. I didn't used to mind the rain.

Yesterday I was supposed to write more on Blood Oranges. Instead, I spent pretty much the whole afternoon dealing with the bonus section of illustrations that will be appearing in the limited edition of Two Worlds and In Between. I'd not been told we couldn't use color illustrations (because they have to be mechanically tipped in, etc. and etc.), so I'd included Ryan Obermeyer's marvelous cover for The Dry Salvages (it's there on his website; just use the menu until you find berliner dom). So, as I wasn't about to do the painting injustice by having it reproduced in black and white, I had to find a new piece to replace it (which wound up being a second Dame Darcy drawing from In the Garden of Poisonous Flowers. And there was more to dealing with the art, and more, and more.

And then my agent called...and we talked a lot. About the NEWS THAT IS SO GOOD, SO COOL I can't talk about it yet. After that, I was shot for the day. We had an early dinner, then headed out to the RISD museum for a FREE showing of Stanley Donen's Funny Face (1957). And then we strolled through the museum's temporary "Cocktail Culture" exhibit, and then we came home again.

I tried to rp, but the scene just kept feeling flatter and flatter, and I knew it was my fault and finally bowed out. I lay on the floor in the front parlor for a while, watching Spooky playing Alice: The Madness Returns, which is actually very beautiful. But the black mood grew blacker, and eventually I crawled off to bed. My pills let me sleep.

And that's yesterday, kittens. Today, the black mood is still with me. I'll sew something from it, which is usually the way of things.

Whiner: "Why are your stories always so dark?"

Me: "I make the best I can of what I'm given, that's why."

Whiner: "You're just not trying hard enough. You dwell on the darkness."

Me: "Go fuck yourself."

Now, that said, please do have a look at Round 2 of the Big Damn eBay Auction. Thanks.

Comments would be a kindness, here in the fading, last days or months or years of LiveJournal. Then again, now that we have Facebook, where communication apparently thrives in the absence of capitalization, proper spelling, and punctuation....*

Bound and Gagged,
Aunt Beast

* I'm not talking about people who misuse punctuation and capitalization. I'm talking about people who can't be bothered to use any at all.
greygirlbeast: (Eli2)
Only five hours sleep last night and the night before, and I'm feeling it. Add to that the fact that winter ended just last week and we've now fast forwarded to July, so my office is sweltering, and I presently feel just a little bit crappy. And sweaty. And sleepy.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,697 words, beginning and completing the second piece for Sirenia Digest #67, which is called simply "Untitled 35." By the way, "Untitled 35" is the 90th piece of short fiction I have written specifically for the digest. Which sort of blew my mind, when I did the math. Anyway, the vignette gets back to the roots of the digest. In fact, this whole issue does. Anyway, Vince is currently working on an illustration for the other story appearing in #67, "Figurehead."

I'm making this entry on the Asus laptop, Zoe, as I've never written anything on her before, and I'm curious to see if I'm as clumsy with this keyboard as I feared I would be. So far, I'm fine.

I have a number of almost, but not quite completely, edited projects piled on top of me that have to be attended to as soon as the digest goes out, before I get back to work on Blood Oranges. The changes to the galley pages of Two Worlds and In Between, and the Crimson Alphabet chapbook. And there's The Drowning Girl, which needs a couple of tweaks. And...stuff I'm too groggy to remember. But it all has to be taken care of ASAP.

Some email yesterday with [livejournal.com profile] kylecassidy regarding our impending work on the visual accompaniments for The Drowning Girl. We spoke of crow masks and nuns.

Spooky spent almost the entire day having new tires put on the automobile, and returning overdue library books to the Athenaeum. Well, almost all day on the first thing. The belated book return was, I expect, quick by comparison to sitting at the tire place for three or four hours.

Oh, did I mention it was hot? If not, well, it is. Hot. Here. Which is mostly just funny, because we were having to use the fireplace about a week ago.

Last night, about 10:30, we escaped the sweltering house, crossed the river, and then drove willy-nilly about College Hill, and all the way over to the southern end of Gano Street, where I'm setting part of Blood Oranges. I needed to see it at night. Now, I need to see it at twilight. The interstate looms above it there, and tawdry houses crouch in ominous shadows. Sorry. Just had an attack of Lovecraftitis. All over College Hill, the sidewalks were littered with the crap the deserted apartments of college kids excrete at the end of each school year. We saw two girls wheeling enormous wheeley bin things down the road, evidently cleaning out studios at RISD. On Benefit Street, we saw a very tall boy in a dress, attired rather like Dame Darcy. As Spooky said, he didn't look bad in a dress, but it was a curious sight, there beneath the streetlights. And then, a few minutes afterwards, we threw a hubcap. I assume there's no connection between the Dame Darcy boy and the throwing of the hubcap, but, rather, that someone at the tire place did a poor job of putting the thing back on. Anyway, Spooky managed to retrieve it, so all's well that ends well. It was wonderfully cool Outside, and the air smelled clean (though I expect it wasn't).

In Rift, there was more very good rp. Enthlye, Artemisia, Celinn, and Selwynn, at Lantern Hook in the Droughtlands. Lantern Hook, as I may have mentioned, is essentially a sietch, down to the reservoir. Anyway, the Order's future was discussed, as was Selwyn's sudden change of gender. But, yes. Loving the rp. I've not cared as much about an rp character as I do about Selwyn in quite some time. And it's amazing how Telera lends itself perfectly to rp, whereas Azeroth simply doesn't. Mostly, I think it's a matter of Rift being willing to take itself seriously. As someone said last night in general chat, "It's like WoW, without the suck and fail."

And I read "A new enantiornithine bird from the Lower Cretaceous of western Liaoning, China" and "The osteology of Chubutisaurus insignis del Corro, 1975 (Dinosauria: Neosauropoda) from the 'middle' Cretaceous of central Patagonia, Argentina," both in the January JVP. And tried not to think about sunrise.

Okay, make an end to this entry. Later, kittens.

Perspiring,
Aunt Beast

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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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