greygirlbeast: (Default)
Not as much sunny Outside today as cloudy. And 46˚F.

Yesterday, two more interviews. Oh, and this. Which wasn't precisely an interview. But there was no work. No writing that wasn't answering questions. Four interviews (and this) in two days, and we're on the seventh day of a short month – longer by one day, thanks to leap year – and today I have to get back to work, and work means writing, not answering interview questions. Actually, my answering interview questions is probably now a legitimate part of my "job," but it's not writing. Today, I'm going to write. Or something like it. Tonight, after dinner, I'll deal with the next interview.

News from Subterranean Press is that Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart will be out sometime in May.

I have arrived at a curious, but, I believe, useful, new monetary standard to be employed by freelance authors. Forget the dollar. The basic unit of currency is the pizza. For example, someone pays me three-hundred dollars for a reprint, that's ~15P (based on an average large pizza price, with three toppings, of $20). Say your book deal drops twenty-thousand dollars into your lap (minus your agent's 15%); that's ~850P. This new standard will serve us far better. Sell nothing, ever, for less than at least 1P.

Since last summer I've been struggling to explain the relationship between Blood Oranges and its impending sequels (they do impend) and genuine ParaRom. No, do not use the label "Urban Fantasy." Once upon a time, Urban Fantasy had dignity. ParaRom stole the term (I don't know if it was the writers, editors, publishers, or an elaborate conspiracy of the lot). ParaRom, or PR. Anyway, the correct word I belatedly found yesterday is subvert. That is, Blood Oranges et al. is meant to subvert ParaRom. That's asking a lot of any poor book/s, but someone has to throw herself on the grenade.

Last night, Spooky and I played Rift for the first time since, near as I can tell from my notes, December 19th. That's, what, forty-nine days ago? The game remains beautiful, and it was good to be back. A good break from SW:toR. See, I didn't leave Rift because I was bored. I left because trying to run an RP guild – which meant writing more after I was done writing for the day, plus trying to get people to show up for RP – had sort of soured me on the whole thing. And then SW:toR arrived, all fresh and shiny and unsullied. Last night, I realized how much I'd missed Rift. BUT, because of the "free-to-play" Rift-Lite, our server has been overrun by idiots who cannot comprehend that it's an RP server, and there was a serious (and reasonable) fucking case of Gnerd Rage going down in general chat last night. I ignored it (I ignored everyone), and Indus (my Level 43 Eth warrior) and Dancy (Spooky's Level 43 Kelari cleric) quested and closed rifts in the Droughtlands and Shimmersand. What I didn't see was any evidence that there's been an exodus of players. There were high-level players everywhere. Many more than when I left, so the news of the game's recent troubles may have been...exaggerated. Anyway, for now, I think Spooky and I will be jumping back and forth between the two games – since we have no actual social life.

The no-sleep demons found me last night. Monsier Insomnia kept me awake until after five ayem (though I was in bed by 2:15 ayem). I didn't wake until after noon (or afternoon, if you prefer).

And one last thing. I'm missing the South fiercely. Part of it's this shitty Providence winter. Part of it is...well...complicated. I do not miss the people or the culture. I miss the land. And I'm sick of missing the South, because there is no dividing the people from the land. In the main (though not universally), the people are not worthy of even the smallest fraction of my longing. They showed me hatred, with rare bits of tolerance. By comparison, in New England I have found a mix of acceptance and people who simply know how to mind their own business. In the South, very few people know how to mind their own business. Indeed, throughout most of America, this is the case. Anyway, last night I got to thinking on the silly phrase "Southern hospitality" (which always baffled Spooky). It's not that "Southern hospitality" doesn't exist; it's that it's a highly conditional phenomenon. Conform, and we'll be relatively hospitable. Fail to conform, and we'll bedevil you. At last I left, and I am better off for it. But I cannot shake this longing for the land.

I've written far too much, says the platypus. I've written nothing at all. Gotta try to work.

Here, There, and the Other Place,
Aunt Beast
greygirlbeast: (Eli2)
A sunny, slightly chilly day here in Providence.

And I need to be far more awake than I presently am. And yet, I've already managed email. Go me.

Yesterday earned a W (=Work; X=Wrote, L=Lost) in my day planner, a definite improvement. I spent the day talking through my thoughts on The Next Novel, working title Blood Oranges. Spooky was kind and sat and listened. In my head, it's coming together. Many disparate elements coalescing to form a story, which is pretty much how it always happens. This time: Little Red Riding Hood, art crimes, Albert Perrault, La bête du Gévaudan, serial killers, lycanthropy, Outsider art, sculpture, painting, fetish, film making, and so on. The Next Novel will have some things in common with The Red Tree, more so than the previous books. And it will be another first-person narrative, though not in journal form. Of course, now I have to assemble all these ideas into a synopsis for my editor, which is absolutely the second worst part of writing a novel (the worst part being the weeks following its release). I suspect I may be able to finish this book by May '10.

And speaking of The Red Tree, we have entered the fifth week since its release, and I'm going to be putting some energy into one last push to sell out the first printing of the trade paperback (which would greatly increase the likelihood that I continue to write novels). There will be some more work on the website, more interviews, more local bookshop appearances, and, we hope, a finished cut of the short film that Spooky was working on when her motherboard blew. And then, at the end of October, active promotion of The Red Tree will officially cease.

How can you help, assuming you'd like to help? Word of mouth, by using your blogs, Twitter, Facebook, etc. Someone asked yesterday how I feel about fan art, and I replied, you have my blessings. If you loved the book, let others know, however you feel comfortable doing that. And, though it's a lot to ask, buying a second copy of The Red Tree for a friend or family member would be an enormous help. Thank you. You guys have done a lot already, and I am grateful.

Spooky and I also talked over a Mars YA sf story I have to get written by November 1st. It'll be set on the same Mars as "Bradbury Weather," and will deal with the trails of being a teen heterosexual in a society that has become, of necessity, one composed entirely of lesbians.

I think the best part of yesterday was discovering Deep Juan's Pizzeria, which led to an hour or so of silliness on Twitter. A Lovecraftian pizza joint, with mythos-themed pies. For example, here are a few that made the cut (ha, ha...):

1. At the Mozzarella of Madness (featuring the Sauce Out of Thyme)
2. Cthulhu's Revenge (one of the few I've worked out the ingredients for, including fried calamari and clam strips, a jalapeño pesto sauce, and muenster cheese).
3. The Baconomicon
4. Goat Cheese With a Thousand Young
5. Herbert West-Regurgitater Special
6. The Unnameable
7. The Polyperoni (obviously, lots and lots of pepperoni and pearl onions)
8. The Sausagoggoth
9. Pickman's Pineapple
10. Anchovies Over Innsmouth
11. Extra Fungi from Yuggoth

Sides include Elder Wings and Fish Sticks. And, of course, Deep Juan's "Thing on the Doorstep" delivery insures that each pizza will be delivered precisely a Shadow Out of Time, or you get to keep your soul. Still designing the boxes, which, naturally, will be cardboard tesseracts, to hold each non-Euclidean slice. I think I see a T-shirt in this whole affair....[livejournal.com profile] scarletboi?

Okay...there's much work to be done. Come on, platypus; it ain't over til it's over.
greygirlbeast: (chi4)
So, yesterday didn't begin well at all. It began black and grumpy and not wanting to take me anywhere but down. I'd had two fruitless days trying to start the new vignette for Sirenia Digest #4, which should be finished already because Vince has to have time to illustrate it. For two or three weeks I've had this Dracula thing in my head, a piece about Mina which assumes Stoker's novel ends an entirely different way. But after the research and two false starts and two days with the green lady, it just wasn't happening. Mostly, I'd realised that it was a short story, and possibly even a novella, not a vignette, and realising this left me frustrated and at a loss for what I would write about instead. After breakfast, I took a very hot bath and washed my hair, and then there was a helpful blue pill, and then a Red Bull, and then Spooky and I took a long walk. By the time we got back to the house my shitty mood had pretty much broken apart. I did a Wikipedia entry on the ankylosaur Struthiosaurus, and then we went to Candler Park to get slices at Fellini's (mushroom and spinich).

Before we left home, I'd had Spooky call Piercing Experience for me to see if I needed an appointment to have my labret redone. I removed it way back in the spring of 2000, after a long illness when I'd been seized with the need to purge my body of metal. But I've been wanting it back for a long time now, and wanting other piercings as well. Turned out I didn't need an appointment, so after our early dinner we walked to PE. After examining my scar, Robert, who was to do the piercing, decided he could most likely dilate to old hole and there'd be very little actual new piercing involved. So, I picked out my jewlery, a fourteen gauge spike (implant-grade titanium) in teal, and Spooky and I were shown to a room. And just as Robert was putting on his gloves, someone switched the stereo from a Prince CD to the Resevoir Dogs soundtrack, Stephen frelling Wright and K-BILLY'S super sounds of the seventies — "Stuck In The Middle With You." I was trying not to laugh, but then Robert started in with the little dance Mr. Blond does right before he cuts the cop's ear off, and it was just too perfect. Anyway, the whole thing went off without a hitch. There wasn't even any pain today. And I've been reminded, again, how good piercing can be for me. I believe I'm going to have a bridge piercing (a horizontal surface piercing near the top of the nose, between the eyes) done next month, as soon as my labret is fully healed.

And after that, because Amanda Downum ([livejournal.com profile] sosostris2012) is a sweetheart and had sent me and Spooky tix to the Sisters of Mercy show, we drove across town to the Roxy. I don't know how the tour's been going, what sort of reviews its been getting, but last night it was wonderful. The Warlocks opened. Neither of us had heard them before, but they're something along the lines of My Bloody Valentine or the Jesus and Mary Chain, sort of...spacey, trippy, crunchy, totally drad. And the Sisters were in really fine form. Spooky was delighted that they did a Sisterhood song, "Giving Ground." The only annoying incident, and it was only mildy annoying, was a drunk chick in the line to the bathroom who kept insisting that I was "somebody." Finally, she promised me she wouldn't tell anyone, that I was "somebody," just as a stall opened and I was able to escape her attentions. The whole thing was giving me flashbacks to the day at LAX when some idiot decided that I was Marilyn Manson and could not be convinced otherwise. But, yeah, a wonderful evening, so thank you Amanda. You sooooo rock.

Okay. The Oscars tonight. More later. Oh, and [livejournal.com profile] matociquala has found a use of "eco-gothic" dating back to 1996, in a description of Stephen Palmer's novel, Memory Seed.

Profile

greygirlbeast: (Default)
Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

S M T W T F S
    1 234
56 7 891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
26272829   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 23rd, 2017 08:06 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios