Winter's Soggy Revenge (a fable).

Yesterday, Winter decided she'd had quite enough of that little bitch Spring showing up on stage a good six weeks before her cue. Which is to say, it was very cold yesterday. It's even colder today, and wet. There was some sleet this morning, and I feel bad about all those blooming, growing things that have been caught betwixt and between the seasonal kerfuffle. Looking at the long-range forecast, it may stay cold for quite some time, and I'll admit I allowed myself to be spoiled by the freakish weather of the last couple of weeks. But it is the first week of February, and this chill is proper. Winter has a point.

Yesterday was so-so, what with being half-asleep and all (a good night's sleep last night). But I began the third vignette for Sirenia Digest #3, a piece which will likely be titled "Eisoptrophobia," which gives a bit away, but beats "Untitled 18." It may not be quite as overtly erotic as "Bridle" and "Untitled 16," but I figure that's okay. It'll be what it needs to be. The application of force is rarely a good thing in fiction (no matter what you may have heard). Hopefully, I'll be done with "Eisoptrophobia" sometime this afternoon. And we also read Chapter Five of Daughter of Hounds yesterday. It may be my favorite chapter in the book, so that went well. We are now approximately halfway through the novel. I've found no major problems with the text so far, which is kind of amazing considering how chaotic things were around here while most of it was being written. I begin the think I may soon be caught up for the first time in months.

The other day — Friday, I think — I came across the poetry file on my iBook and spent an hour or so feeling down about how I let that part of my writing get away from me. Indeed, in the last thirteen years or so, the time I've been writing professionally, I've only completed three or four poems. And only one of them, "Zelda Fitzgerald in Ballet Attire," has been published (in Tales of Pain and Wonder, 2000). I spent three years on that one poem. Which is one reason I don't write poetry. My approach to it was entirely different than to prose. It was something beyond meticulous. While I was still living in Athens, I did allow a professor at UGA, someone connected with The Georgia Review, to see "Zelda Fitzgerald..." (an earlier draft than the one finally published). He was known as an excruciatingly critical man who never shied away from an opportunity to cast aspersions, and I expected, and honestly half hoped, that he'd tell me it was crap. But he liked it. Anyway, I don't know why I'm going on about poetry just now. It's most likely a road not taken. Maybe I'll get back to it someday. I was just feeling glum about all those unfinished poems, I suppose. But you can't do everything, not if you want to do anything well.

I'm not sure there's anything else to yesterday. It was a day. I did finally finish the Lufengosaurus paper in the new JVP, then read "The postcranial anatomy of the megalosaur Dubreuillisaurus valesdunensis (Dinosauria Theropoda) from the Middle Jurassic of Normandy, France," and then began reading "New information on the skull of the enigmatic theropod Spinosaurus, with remarks on its size and affinities." Spinosaurus aegyptiacus is a truly marvelous beast, and the new material may indicate that it was the largest of the known theropods, larger even than the tyrannosaurids and carcharodontosaurids, coming in at 16-18 metres in length and possibly weighing 7-9 tons.

Today, filming begins on Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Which is a Good Thing.

My thanks to the folks who've offered to help me gather up all the mp3s that were lost when my iPod crashed on Saturday. I may or may not take you up on it. We'll see. Also, my thanks to everyone who's taken part in last night's poll. Last time I checked, there were 134 votes "yes" (96.4%) and only 5 "no" votes (3.6%). In this instance, I shall likely go with the majority (though that's never a foregone conclusion). I very much appreciate the comments, especially those from people concerned that discussing my magickal/metaphysical beliefs could lead to trolling. But the way I see it, at this point I've been trolled for just about everything else. I've been trolled for being queer, for voting Democrat, for using unconventional grammar and writing "unsympathetic" characters, for being an environmentalist and a goth, for being a feminist, for vegetarianism and hating George W. Bush. I've been trolled for bad-mouthing creationists, for slandering fundamentalist Xtianity and the war against Iraq, for being a morbidly rabid Farscape fan, and, hell, I was even severely trolled once (in the bad ol' days of usenet) just because I liked A.I.: Artificial Intelligence. So, I figure I might as well be trolled for being a witch. Anyway, yeah, thanks. I may go with the suggestion to close some of the entries to comments. I'm not necessarily looking to debate these things, it just seemed odd to keep omitting them like I've been doing. In those cases when I disallow comments, you can always say what's on your mind in the species_of_one community or in your own LJs or blogs or wherever else might seem appropriate.

Okay. It's 1:26 p.m., and there's a a platypus with my name on it...