greygirlbeast: (The Red Tree)
[personal profile] greygirlbeast
Merce Cunningham, the choreographer, has died at age 90.

Somewhat balmy day here in Providence. I should have already put my hair up, but I haven't. After this entry, if I can last that long. The sky is a dappled mix of clouds and blue.

Yesterday, I began a piece I'm calling "January 28, 1926," and wrote a very respectable 1,346 words. So, quite a good writing day. Sirenia Digest #44 is quickly coming together. Late last night, Vince sent me a sketch, his plan for the illustration for "Vicaria Draconis," and it's looking great. So, yes, two new vignettes this month, plus a new guest poet who shares my love of cephalopods.

A new page has appeared on the website, under evidence. It showed up on Saturday night, actually, but I decided to wait and see if anyone else noticed it before I said anything. This seemed more prudent. But, to my knowledge, no one has noticed it. Under evidence, read back over Plate XV, then note the links at the bottom of the page. Not the one on the left, nor the one on the right, but the one in the center. And no, that's not the book trailer. And if all these answers are beginning to vex you, be patient. The questions are coming.

Last night I made the mistake of perusing what's called "paranormal romance" on Amazon.com. If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you've already heard my reaction. I seem to live in some sort of self-imposed state of literary asylum. I had no idea there was so much of this crap, or that it sold so well, or that it was so awful. I go to some of the bestsellers, which are, by the way, bestsellers, and cannot read a single sentence aloud without laughing, a reaction I'm fairly certain the authors were not trying to elicit. I'm not talking badly written; I'm not sure this stuff is written, at all. And no, I won't name names. That's poor form. But looking at all this junk, I felt so utterly, oddly defeated. Just seeing how people are lapping up this pablum, I never wanted to write another word (and yet, here I am, babbling away). Several things occurred to me, scanning the pages of Book 15 in a series by some woman who brags about writing three novels a year (on average). One of the thoughts is something that I've been saying for many years, that vampires are no longer monsters, no longer an incarnation of the Other. They have, instead, become primarily a socially acceptable expression of humanity's collective, if latent, necrophilia. Much the same way that zombies are in danger of becoming clowns, vampires are the daemon lover no one really wants to admit is a demon.

And a second thought, I'd be willing to bet you green folding money that a high percentage of the women (and men) who get off on "paranormal romance," who find all this werewolf/vamp/angel/mermaid/fairie/dragon/fluffy-bunny "otherkin" soft core so very titillating are also staunchly anti-GLBT. For example, we could start with a certain Mormon...oh, wait. I said I wouldn't name names. But, you know where I'm headed with this. I'll fuck a dead man (or woman) who drinks blood, this undead serial killer, and I really get off on stories about crime-fighting werewolves doing the nasty with dragons who are actually fairies pretending to be twentysomething human women with anorexia. But, ewwwwwww, men with men? Women with women? Transsexuals? The Bible says that's wrong.

Anyway, damned depressing stuff. [livejournal.com profile] grandmofhelsing observed that "paranormal romance" is "erotic horror" that is neither erotic nor horrific, which seems about right. And I suppose this is one reason that Sirenia Digest doesn't have a million subscribers. I know I'm shooting myself in the foot, sure, but I feel it's my sworn duty to write books and stories and vignettes that would never in a million years appeal to the consumers of "paranormal romance" (I shall not again call them "readers"). There is awe and wonder, terrible beauty and mystery, in the dark places, but you'll never see any of it if you're afraid to turn off the lights.

Only nine days (counting today), until the release of The Red Tree. Have you had another look at Plate 15 yet?

Oh, and the Very Special Auction continues.

And now I must go remember unpleasantries that may have occurred early in 1926, and late in 1919, and write it all down.

Date: 2009-07-27 05:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] greygirlbeast.livejournal.com

Said mormon's writing is clearly a fad, and that fad will go away to something else soon. In the meantime, those of us (the many, the proud) who read her book to see what the hooplah was all about, still want to come home to your stories when we're done laughing at the crowd.

I only had to read the first three sentences...never made it any farther.

I was thinking last night, how long will she be remembered? I'd like to think she'll be remembered as a sort of mass delusion, like the harmonic convergence and pet rocks. A sort of cautionary recollection. But these humans, I can never figure out what they'll do next.

Date: 2009-07-27 05:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ministry-victim.livejournal.com
You see, there are those in my literary circle who don't understand my fascination with finishing everything I start. They think it's a mild case of OCD. They're wrong, though. I just have this weird fixation on bad trainwreck fiction.

Date: 2009-07-27 05:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] greygirlbeast.livejournal.com

You see, there are those in my literary circle who don't understand my fascination with finishing everything I start. They think it's a mild case of OCD. They're wrong, though. I just have this weird fixation on bad trainwreck fiction.

Though I have a rather high pain threshold, it doesn't translate to wasting time on fiction that makes me hurt to read.

Date: 2009-07-27 05:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ministry-victim.livejournal.com
Agreed.

And that being said, I kinda feel sorry for the guy who got roped into playing Edward Cullen. I mean, he must've really liked the attention during the first week of shooting the first movie, but after awhile it's gotta get old. He's in Vancouver right now, shooting the third movie, and I remember when he shot scenes from the second movie in the back lot of the mountain resort I work at.

The teenage girls I could understand, but I was continually surprised at just how often their 35-40 year old mothers and sisters would line up at the gates and scream over their daughters like fangirls in the 50's spotting John Lennon for the first time.

It was scary.

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Caitlín R. Kiernan

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