greygirlbeast: (Eli2)
I seem to be developing a new loathing for "weekends" (id est, Friday night-Sunday), and I begin to guess why.

Comments would be good today, if anyone still reads LJ on Saturday.

Today, I have to get back to writing "Sexing the Weird," which I truly need to finish by tomorrow evening. Yes, it's about sex, and the weird, and weird sex. But maybe not how you think. Or maybe exactly as you think.

The only work yesterday were a couple of last minute corrections to the galley pages of The Drowning Girl. Then we had to rush out to the UPS place at Wayland Square to be sure the thing would be back in NYC on Monday morning. Forty-two dollars and some number of cents to get it there by then.

Anyway, after that we wondered...er, wandered (though I wonder a lot) about Providence for a little while, as late afternoon faded to twilight, just watching the last remnants of the day and the last remnants of autumn. I'm beginning to realize that autumn will never cease to make me melancholy. Doesn't matter if it's beautiful, but that should be obvious to anyone who stops and thinks about it. Indeed, the beauty of autumn may lie near the heart of why it inspires a sense of melancholy in me.

We drove up to Blackstone Park, but it was too cold to walk through the woods. We'd not dressed for that much cold. We took the road that leads south (well, we were going south; the other lane leads north), between the Seekonk River and York Pond. I glanced over at the shadows darkening the still waters of the pond, and spotted a lump moving across the surface that I first mistook for a large turtle (despite the chill), but soon realized was a beaver. Oh, before Blackstone Park, we stopped in at Myopic Books, which is next door to the UPS Place. My favorite used bookstore in Rhode Island. I was good. All I got was an 1883 book on the sea, Ocean Wonders: Our Summer at the Seashore and Lakes by William E. Damon (D. Appleton & Co.; New York; the book is inscribed in a beautiful, looping hand, "Lotie H. Palmer 1884") and a much less old children's book on horseshoe crabs, The Crab That Crawled Out of the Past by Lorus and Margery Milne (1966, Atheneum; New York). Looking at these books now, I think, gods, remember when there were innumerable publishers in Manhattan. Now there are about six. To the detriment of almost all authors. Anyway, I was good, as I said, and didn't get a couple of pricey books on the evolution of birds that I also wanted.

We got dinner from Mama Kim's Korean food truck. It was parked in the usual spot, near the corner of Thayer and George. It was almost dark. Spooky went to get the food (I had three gochujang sliders), and I sat on a bench, smoking and thinking about the ancient buildings around me. The silhouette of some Brown University tower was visible to the northwest. Spooky's still sad she didn't get the little fish-shaped, sweet-bean pancakes. They seem too peculiarly reminiscent of something Xtian for my comfort.

Later, too much freaking Rift. But we were finally able to "buy" the cool cold-weather outfits at Chancel of Labors.

Later still, we watched an odd film, Daniel Myrick's The Objective (2007). It was almost pretty good. Well, it probably was pretty good. But there was this horrid voice over, which felt tacked on, whether it was added in post production or was part of the original screenplay. It seemed to exist to a) tell us the plainly obvious and b) make the film seem more like Apocalypse Now. Anyway, voice over aside, great idea and some nicely unnerving imagery, especially the final shot. Then I finished reading John Steinbeck's The Log From the Sea of Cortez, because I only had twenty pages to go, and I was determined to finish (even if it did mean staying up until almost five ayem). Wonderful, wonderful book. Then there were the dreams, some oddly, disturbingly sexy, others oddly, pleasantly disturbing, and still others just odd.

Here are a couple of photos, the The Drowning Girl (+ cat hair!) and the 1883 book:

Covers )


Oddly,
Aunt Beast
greygirlbeast: (Bowie1)
The weather is quite a bit cooler today than on Sunday, which is a relief. We had rain yesterday, and might have rain again today.

By now, all subscribers should have Sirenia Digest #19 in their inboxes, as Spooky mailed it out last night. I do hope to see some feedback here, about "The Steam Dancer" and "The Daughter of the Four of Pentacles." Don't be shy.

There was a question asked in the comments section of yesterday's entry, which I thought I would answer here. [livejournal.com profile] humming_along asked:

I have a question that's entirely unrelated to this post. I've found that some of your titles are available through some of the overstock websites at crazy-low prices, and I wanted to know if you still make royalties off those sales, or benefit from them in any way other than knowing that they're being read.

This might seem like a simple, straightforward question, but it isn't. On the one hand, books are expensive, and I love used bookstores, and, in theory, I have no problem with people buying my books from used bookstores. However, I have a rather old-fashioned idea of what constitutes a used bookstore. A true used bookstore sells used books, not overstock and/or remaindered titles that are, for all intents and purposes, new books. In the latter case, when the books in question are clearly remaindered (usually, there's a red mark that identifies remaindered books, but not always), I have to say that no, I would prefer you buy my books new, because I will see no royalties from those sales and they will in no way benefit my standing with my publisher. Worse still, if we're talking about the trade paperback editions of Threshold, Low Red Moon, and Murder of Angels, please be aware that the books that are showing up in "overstock websites at crazy-low prices" are the direct result of my former editor's incompetence. I refer you to entries I made while in Rhode Island early last August. There is an explicit provision in my contracts with Penguin that allows me an opportunity to buy, at a significant discount, an unlimited number of any remaindered print run before stock is moved out of the warehouses and sold off to places like Chapter 11. In the case of these three books, I was not notified until after the fact (and then only because I asked) and so had no opportunity to purchase copies of the books, which I could have offered for a profit via eBay or distributed free (I have done both with remaindered copies of the tpb edition of Silk). So...please, I do ask that you wait and buy these three books new as they are released in mass-market paperback format over the next ten months or so. The new edition of Threshold is already available, and you can now pre-order Low Red Moon. Silk (4th ed.) will be released in December 2007, and Murder of Angels will be released in April 2008. These are inexpensive paperbacks, only $6.99-$7.99 via Amazon.com. Sorry that was such a long-winded answer, but there you go.

Yesterday evening, we managed to solve the router problem, and Spooky and I are now the proud owners of a PC frankenpooter that will allow her to better manage eBay and Sirenia Digest, and which allows us to enter Second Life simultaneously. My thanks to Jim and Jennifer, who supplied most of the hardware, and to Byron who went to all the trouble to haul it over here and get it up and running. I will say, however, that having a PC in my house only strengthens my twenty-year long conviction that Macs are far superior machines. I think we are naming this new beast Victor. Or maybe Moreau.

A good walk last night, after the rain had cooled things off, and we stood in the twilight spotting bats. Later, we watched Roger Michell's Venus (2006), which I found a beautiful, bittersweet film. I read "Plaeoenvironment and paleoecology of Majungasaurus crenatissimus (Theropoda: Abelisauridae) from the Late Creatceous of Madagascar" (the second portion of JVP Memoir 8). Later still, we met for the first time in Second Life, which was more than a little surreal. By the way, I suppose there's no reason not to share my inworld blog, "Parallax: The Journal of Professor Nareth E. Nishi."

Right. Time to make the bloody doughnuts.

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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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