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The Dinosaur of Sinclair Avenue
Jan. 7th, 2006 11:41 amThe headache finally let me go sometime early last night.
Spooky and I read through "Bainbridge" yesterday afternoon. With great relief, I can say that I like it and that it holds together. Which is sort of amazing. Three separate, alternating narratives, related but never overlapping for 70 pages. First there's Dancy and the old church south of Bainbridge, Georgia. Then there's Dancy's mother at age fifteen in Pensacola Beach, Florida in 1982. Then there's the court of the Glaistig, Queen of Immolations, in the hublands (which lie at the center of the hemispherical world I introduced in Murder of Angels). But it seems to work, and "Bainbridge" certainly manages not to be "just another" story about Dancy showing up to kill a monster. In case I don't note it anywhere in Alabaster, this story was written to Aimee Mann, Nick Cave, Gravenhurst, and the Wedding Present. This is one of those stories I'd have never, ever gotten written without the music. I'd hoped to do the read-through and the corrections yesterday, but barely got started on the latter. So that's what I'll do today.
Last night, we rented The Cave. I didn't expect very much from it, but I apparently expected more than it was able to deliver, because I was disappointed. Zero characterization. A climax that just feels like another meandering scene. Not much to say that's good. It steals many of it's best bits from better films, such as Pitch Black (from which it takes an entire line of dialogue, and with which it shares Cole Hauser). Even the monster effects were so-so. Oh, well.
The cold is wearing on me again, making me want to stay in bed, pushing me down. I really have to get better at this. If I'm ever to escape the South, I have to form new associations and reactions to cold weather. At any rate, here are the photos from Thursday's walk that I promised I'd post, including two of the "Dinosaur of Sinclair Avenue" (behind the cut):
( I think she's a very photogenic sauropod. )
Set me aflame and cast me free,
Away you wretched world of tethers...
Spooky and I read through "Bainbridge" yesterday afternoon. With great relief, I can say that I like it and that it holds together. Which is sort of amazing. Three separate, alternating narratives, related but never overlapping for 70 pages. First there's Dancy and the old church south of Bainbridge, Georgia. Then there's Dancy's mother at age fifteen in Pensacola Beach, Florida in 1982. Then there's the court of the Glaistig, Queen of Immolations, in the hublands (which lie at the center of the hemispherical world I introduced in Murder of Angels). But it seems to work, and "Bainbridge" certainly manages not to be "just another" story about Dancy showing up to kill a monster. In case I don't note it anywhere in Alabaster, this story was written to Aimee Mann, Nick Cave, Gravenhurst, and the Wedding Present. This is one of those stories I'd have never, ever gotten written without the music. I'd hoped to do the read-through and the corrections yesterday, but barely got started on the latter. So that's what I'll do today.
Last night, we rented The Cave. I didn't expect very much from it, but I apparently expected more than it was able to deliver, because I was disappointed. Zero characterization. A climax that just feels like another meandering scene. Not much to say that's good. It steals many of it's best bits from better films, such as Pitch Black (from which it takes an entire line of dialogue, and with which it shares Cole Hauser). Even the monster effects were so-so. Oh, well.
The cold is wearing on me again, making me want to stay in bed, pushing me down. I really have to get better at this. If I'm ever to escape the South, I have to form new associations and reactions to cold weather. At any rate, here are the photos from Thursday's walk that I promised I'd post, including two of the "Dinosaur of Sinclair Avenue" (behind the cut):
( I think she's a very photogenic sauropod. )
Set me aflame and cast me free,
Away you wretched world of tethers...
