"You have set something in motion..."
May. 16th, 2008 11:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Not quite awake, though I bloody well ought to be. What good is raisin/cinnamon toast with organic cream cheese and a glass of Gatorade if it doesn't wake you up?
Yesterday, I wrote 1,083 words on Chapter One of The Red Tree. Mostly, how Sarah Crowe met "Amanda Tyrell."* I think this is the last scene in the chapter. Another day or two of writing. After the writing, I packed eight boxes of books, before admitting I was too tired to pack anything more.
But the office is damn near done. I've never written in an empty office before, all the shelves bare of books. Almost all of them. Only fourteen days left until M Day. Fourteen Days. Two weeks. Two of those days will be lost to a couple more day trips to Burningspam (to see my doctor, then to retrieve my belongings from the storage unit), so, really, we have only twelve days remaining in which to pack, etc. And I have only six writing days left before the move. Wow. Fourteen days. 336 hours. Well, no, because it's already 11:30 ayem, so more like 324.5 hours. 19,470 minutes. 1,168,200 seconds (give or take). Spooky's gonna smack me when she sees this breakdown.
It rained all day yesterday.
Later, sometime After dinner, we...well, never mind that part. But after that part, we watched a whole bunch of the special features on the Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street DVDs. Helena Bonham Carter is cuter than anyone has a right to be. Later still, Spooky read to me from House of Leaves — mostly the section on Karen Navidson's short films What Some Have Thought and A Brief History of Who I Love. I still find the Hunter S. Thompson comments priceless. Then Spooky fell asleep, and I read to myself from Ronald Rainger's biography of Henry Fairfield Osborn — Chapter 6, "The Museum, the Zoo, and the Preservation of Nature" — until about 3 ayem.
And I'm two doses into the antibiotic, and, of course, they frell with my stomach. Stupid tick.
Oh, and before I forget again, I post the following for the kindly, T-shirt making aliens over at Ziraxia (who brought you the Stiff Kitten Ts):

Shiny! You must have one. You must. And right now, they're on sale for only $12.99 (through Monday, when the price goes back to $16.99). Though, I will say that I think "No Power in the 'Verse" would be a better campaign slogan. Maybe we can use those on the bumper stickers and yard signs.
350.org.
* We never learn "Amanda's" true name in the book, as Sarah only uses a pseudonym when referring to her.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,083 words on Chapter One of The Red Tree. Mostly, how Sarah Crowe met "Amanda Tyrell."* I think this is the last scene in the chapter. Another day or two of writing. After the writing, I packed eight boxes of books, before admitting I was too tired to pack anything more.
But the office is damn near done. I've never written in an empty office before, all the shelves bare of books. Almost all of them. Only fourteen days left until M Day. Fourteen Days. Two weeks. Two of those days will be lost to a couple more day trips to Burningspam (to see my doctor, then to retrieve my belongings from the storage unit), so, really, we have only twelve days remaining in which to pack, etc. And I have only six writing days left before the move. Wow. Fourteen days. 336 hours. Well, no, because it's already 11:30 ayem, so more like 324.5 hours. 19,470 minutes. 1,168,200 seconds (give or take). Spooky's gonna smack me when she sees this breakdown.
It rained all day yesterday.
Later, sometime After dinner, we...well, never mind that part. But after that part, we watched a whole bunch of the special features on the Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street DVDs. Helena Bonham Carter is cuter than anyone has a right to be. Later still, Spooky read to me from House of Leaves — mostly the section on Karen Navidson's short films What Some Have Thought and A Brief History of Who I Love. I still find the Hunter S. Thompson comments priceless. Then Spooky fell asleep, and I read to myself from Ronald Rainger's biography of Henry Fairfield Osborn — Chapter 6, "The Museum, the Zoo, and the Preservation of Nature" — until about 3 ayem.
And I'm two doses into the antibiotic, and, of course, they frell with my stomach. Stupid tick.
Oh, and before I forget again, I post the following for the kindly, T-shirt making aliens over at Ziraxia (who brought you the Stiff Kitten Ts):

Shiny! You must have one. You must. And right now, they're on sale for only $12.99 (through Monday, when the price goes back to $16.99). Though, I will say that I think "No Power in the 'Verse" would be a better campaign slogan. Maybe we can use those on the bumper stickers and yard signs.
350.org.
* We never learn "Amanda's" true name in the book, as Sarah only uses a pseudonym when referring to her.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-16 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-16 09:07 pm (UTC)Offtopic, but I had a thought today that there is so much science in Lovecraft that he is more like a successor of Verne than Poe. Critics always compare him to Poe, but I don't buy it.
While it is true that Lovecraft's later work is proto-sf, and very important proto=sf, at that, there is a period of his work that is fairly recognized for its likeness to Poe, just as there is a period that bears a striking resemblance to Dunsany. It is clear from Lovecraft's own writing that he was imitating much of Poe, consciously, and even the sf still carries a great deal of Poe's influence. I don't see much reason for comparison with Verne, except that Verne helped to father the sf tradition that Lovecraft eventually moved towards (but the same could be said for Wells et al.).
And yes, that was waaaaaaaay off topic. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2008-05-17 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-17 02:57 pm (UTC)Sorry please don't ban me like Wikipedia did ;-(
It takes A LOT to get banned from this journal. In all the many years it has been up, I've banned maybe six or seven people. So, no worries. ;-) However, the matter of Poe's influence of Lovecraft is right there in print, in Lovecraft's own words. Research often helps in avoiding uncomfortable situations.