Caitlín R. Kiernan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greygirlbeast) wrote2010-08-31 12:51 pm
greygirlbeast) wrote2010-08-31 12:51 pm
Entry tags:
I am a specialist at clearly delineated ambiguity.
The world is made of suck. Isn't that what kids these days would say, if their world was, indeed, made of suck, as opposed to being covered in teh awesome sauce? Is "awesome sauce" one word or two?
No sleep until four this morning, and then the dreams were a carnival ride. What, in the UK, was once called a ghost train. Maybe it still is. I don't know. I may have slept seven hours, but probably less. But at least I did it without drugs. Sonata, it turns out, is no less fraught with unpleasant side effects than is Ambien. These are drugs with sharp edges, wrapped in thin velvet.
It's a sharp fucking world.
I didn't leave the House yesterday, so its been six days now. I spent the entire damn day trying to find the end of "Fairy Tale of the Maritime," trying to find it without breaking the story. Spooky read the whole thing aloud to me, and I simply could not hear it. The rhythm was escaping me. I heard the words, but not the cadence. The ending seemed inscrutable and beyond my reach. I had Spooky call Sonya (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sovay), and ask if she'd read it. She said yes, so I emailed it to her. She didn't hate it, which was a relief (Spooky had already not hated it, but artists can never trust their lovers on such matters, never, ever).
I wrote and erased nine hundred words. I wrote and kept another five hundred and fifty-eight words, and that's what became the ending of "Fairy Tale of the Maritime." It's sort of like whimsy on a bad dose of Lovecraft. Or Lewis Carroll on a good dose of Ketamine. Or it's nothing like either of those things. Anyway, now all I have to do is assemble Sirenia Digest #57, which I will be doing tomorrow, because Spooky refuses to allow me to go another day without leaving the House. My apologies ahead of time to subscribers, but the issue won't be out until September 1st or 2nd.
I presently exist in a state of abject terror, so far as the month of September '10 is concerned.
Last night we watched the first film in the BBC4 Red Riding trilogy (based on David Peace's quartet of novels of the same name). The first film, shot in 16mm and directed by Julian Jarrold, is In the Year of Our Lord 1974. And it was fucking brilliant. It achieved a level of sheer weird creepiness that I tend to think only David Lynch is capable of achieving. I can see myself becoming as obsessed with these films as I am with House of Leaves or Lost Highway or 1. Outside. And, of course we still have two films to go: In the Year of Our Lord 1980 (directed by James Marsh) and In the Year of Our Lord 1983 (directed by Anand Tucker).
I think I'm about to begin reading Neal Stephenson's The Diamond Age: Or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer.
I should go. The mothmen say so, that's why.
Oh, wait. There's a comment following from my post on A is for Alien and my SF work that I found especially insightful, and that I want to post.corucia wrote:
I think that you have similar issues with the reception of your SF as Peter Watts, of 'Blindsight' and 'Starfish' fame (http://www.rifters.com/crawl/). His work is even more dystopic and hard SF, and he's had trouble with recognition and sales, even though he often gets very favorable reviews (he's currently up for a Hugo for his novelette 'The Island'). I suspect that both of you are butting up against one of the fundamental differences between SF and fantasy - at some deep level, readers can dismiss fantasy as true fiction, no matter how disturbing it may be, but at that same level the reader can't as easily dismiss SF, because it is supposed to be grounded in reality. Thus, the bleaker SF can have a fundamental impact that fantasy cannot, leading to an unconscious rejection of the SF. I'll further argue that the better the science grounding of the SF, the more likely it is to be avoided if the conclusions resulting from it are too disturbing. As most readers don't have a strong science background, it's harder for them to identify flaws that might allow them to dismiss something that appears to be rationally-based, whereas fantasy always has the underlying unreality that permits dismissal.
Okay, mothmen. I'm finished now.
No sleep until four this morning, and then the dreams were a carnival ride. What, in the UK, was once called a ghost train. Maybe it still is. I don't know. I may have slept seven hours, but probably less. But at least I did it without drugs. Sonata, it turns out, is no less fraught with unpleasant side effects than is Ambien. These are drugs with sharp edges, wrapped in thin velvet.
It's a sharp fucking world.
I didn't leave the House yesterday, so its been six days now. I spent the entire damn day trying to find the end of "Fairy Tale of the Maritime," trying to find it without breaking the story. Spooky read the whole thing aloud to me, and I simply could not hear it. The rhythm was escaping me. I heard the words, but not the cadence. The ending seemed inscrutable and beyond my reach. I had Spooky call Sonya (
sovay), and ask if she'd read it. She said yes, so I emailed it to her. She didn't hate it, which was a relief (Spooky had already not hated it, but artists can never trust their lovers on such matters, never, ever).I wrote and erased nine hundred words. I wrote and kept another five hundred and fifty-eight words, and that's what became the ending of "Fairy Tale of the Maritime." It's sort of like whimsy on a bad dose of Lovecraft. Or Lewis Carroll on a good dose of Ketamine. Or it's nothing like either of those things. Anyway, now all I have to do is assemble Sirenia Digest #57, which I will be doing tomorrow, because Spooky refuses to allow me to go another day without leaving the House. My apologies ahead of time to subscribers, but the issue won't be out until September 1st or 2nd.
I presently exist in a state of abject terror, so far as the month of September '10 is concerned.
Last night we watched the first film in the BBC4 Red Riding trilogy (based on David Peace's quartet of novels of the same name). The first film, shot in 16mm and directed by Julian Jarrold, is In the Year of Our Lord 1974. And it was fucking brilliant. It achieved a level of sheer weird creepiness that I tend to think only David Lynch is capable of achieving. I can see myself becoming as obsessed with these films as I am with House of Leaves or Lost Highway or 1. Outside. And, of course we still have two films to go: In the Year of Our Lord 1980 (directed by James Marsh) and In the Year of Our Lord 1983 (directed by Anand Tucker).
I think I'm about to begin reading Neal Stephenson's The Diamond Age: Or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer.
I should go. The mothmen say so, that's why.
Oh, wait. There's a comment following from my post on A is for Alien and my SF work that I found especially insightful, and that I want to post.
corucia wrote:I think that you have similar issues with the reception of your SF as Peter Watts, of 'Blindsight' and 'Starfish' fame (http://www.rifters.com/crawl/). His work is even more dystopic and hard SF, and he's had trouble with recognition and sales, even though he often gets very favorable reviews (he's currently up for a Hugo for his novelette 'The Island'). I suspect that both of you are butting up against one of the fundamental differences between SF and fantasy - at some deep level, readers can dismiss fantasy as true fiction, no matter how disturbing it may be, but at that same level the reader can't as easily dismiss SF, because it is supposed to be grounded in reality. Thus, the bleaker SF can have a fundamental impact that fantasy cannot, leading to an unconscious rejection of the SF. I'll further argue that the better the science grounding of the SF, the more likely it is to be avoided if the conclusions resulting from it are too disturbing. As most readers don't have a strong science background, it's harder for them to identify flaws that might allow them to dismiss something that appears to be rationally-based, whereas fantasy always has the underlying unreality that permits dismissal.
Okay, mothmen. I'm finished now.
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Sometime, now or another day, would you be willing to talk about what it feels like to you when a story is breaking, and how you find your way to righting the story (when you can)? I don't know if it's a broadening of my reading or perspective, but lately I have a harder time telling when stories are breaking. I see more possibilities for what they might become and how to tell them, and so the standard for non-breaking seems to shift from story to story. I often think about Murder of Angels in reference to this, and all the different worlds and possibilities that show up in there.
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Sometime, now or another day, would you be willing to talk about what it feels like to you when a story is breaking, and how you find your way to righting the story (when you can)?
I could try, but it's a slippery matter.
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Hope you have a refreshing time Outside.
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Especially when they are right.
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Especially when they are right.
Yep.
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We love love love the BBC series 'Being Human'. It has great characters that are amazingly captivating and makes me think for days after each episode. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend.
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We love love love the BBC series 'Being Human'. It has great characters that are amazingly captivating and makes me think for days after each episode. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend.
We'll check it out.
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Science fiction is what you cut your teeth on and fantasy is more meat and potatoes.
Another thought I'll have to ponder. My instinct is to say that, in my opinion, it's the other way round. But it may be we're working from different operative definitions of fantasy.
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I would even go so far as to say I enjoyed it.
And it was fucking brilliant.
The entire trilogy played at the MFA earlier this summer and I couldn't get to see it. DVD posthaste. Thanks.
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I would even go so far as to say I enjoyed it.
Thank you. Soon, you'll see THE END.
The entire trilogy played at the MFA earlier this summer and I couldn't get to see it.
It really is "teh awesome."
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I am properly chagrined and ashamed.
Though neither of you was really involved. You both were kind of around while inappropriateness was happening, like lesbian Tom Cruises at an Eyes Wide Shut orgy of me.
...I have no idea what I just said and will heatedly deny having said it.
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...I have no idea what I just said and will heatedly deny having said it.
Ah, but we were there...
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I'll leave it to you and Spooky to argue over which of you was guilt and which was shame.
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I'll leave it to you and Spooky to argue over which of you was guilt and which was shame.
I'm definitely guilt.
no subject
Ah.
Well played.
Insomnia/
Re: Insomnia/
Thanks. I'll have a look.