greygirlbeast: (white2)
Late last night, just after 2 ayem, a bad seizure. I was walking out of the bathroom, and then, a few minutes later, I was lying on the floor of the front parlor. When I could talk again, I asked Spooky if it was bad, and she said, "You've had worse." Small mercies. I went to bed not long afterwards and slept about eight and a half hours, which is more than I've slept at a stretch in ages. This morning, I'm sore and disoriented. I suspect I got a lot of bruises.

I cannot shake the feeling that my fits are something I should not be discussing publicly.

The sun is bright this morning, and the sky is that shade of blue. Terrific thunderstorms last night, hard rain and wind howling around the edges of the house.

Not much to say about yesterday. There was more line editing to be done than I'd expected, mostly pertaining to format. But now B is for Beginnings (the chapbook that comes free with the limited edition of A is for Alien) should be as "corrected" as it's going to get. I still need to go through the collection itself one more time, mostly looking for formatting errors. We read over what has been written on "Some Notes on an Unfinished Film," and Spooky likes it, and she says I should finish it. I sent it to [livejournal.com profile] sovay, who also says finish it. So, I suppose that I will. Part of me wants to set it aside (again), and write something much simpler for Sirenia Digest #35. A simpler narrative structure, I mean. After the decidedly not simple structure of The Red Tree, all those epistolary antics, my preference would be something along the lines of the vignettes from Frog Toes and Tentacles or Tales from the Woeful Platypus. But...here's this story already begun, and I'm already running late, and I don't really have any ideas at the ready for vignettes.

After the editing and reading yesterday, I read and rested, even managing a nap late in the afternoon. Spooky went out into the world and slew a wild pizza for dinner. I fretted about The Red Tree. It rained. Ba da pa pa.

I want to go back to bed, but the platypus says that's not an option.
greygirlbeast: (Bowie1)
I have to get back to the writing today. There's not time for the lack of focus and absence of motivation that has been gnawing at me. I'm going to try to do my first bit for the collaboration with [livejournal.com profile] sovay today, for the next issue of Sirenia Digest (subscribe, subscribe, subscribe), because, on the other side of that story, I still have to complete Tales from the Woeful Platypus this month.

I did manage to clean my office yesterday.

There's rain on its way, blowing in from Alabama. Right now, there are clouds and wind.

Once again, I find myself not quite in the mood to "blog." I keep getting distracted by things outside the window. Perhaps, the last few days, my little ring-tailed lemur world has been too, too mercifully quiet. Conflict breeds drama. Tranquility breeds short blog entries. The sleep of reason breeds monsters. But you probably knew that already.

Last night, we watched To Kill a Mockingbird (1962).

Yesterday, [livejournal.com profile] activistgirl asked me if the answer to the riddle in "The Well of Stars and Shadow," the riddle that Mr. Jube asks the thing from the lake at the end of Wampee Creek, was "coffin." But I think it's probably best if I don't answer, one way or the other. All things considered. One never knows when something might come knocking at the door late one night, and there should always be a few unanswered riddles close at hand.

Oh, and the platypus just nipped at my left ankle and sneered and ordered me to remind you that Amazon.com is offering Alabaster and Daughter of Hounds for a paltry $27.70. Also, says the platypus (who's much more talkative today than am I) that it would be a great idea to request that your local public library get both books. Also, says the platypus, someone out there should find the asshole who thought green ketchup was a good idea and string himherit up by...

Hold on.

I'll get back to you. I need to have a talk with this mouthy platypus.

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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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