"I've always been the coward."

[greygirlbeast]

I awoke about nine p.m., hot and sweaty and sick from having taken a Valium and two Sonata, but then only slept five hours. I awoke to relive, it seems, an especially grotesque day from October 1990.

It's just me, or it's everyone, or it's only some people, but even after forty-seven years, I've no idea whatsoever.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,236 words on a new vignette, "The Granting Cabinet."

I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to keep up these journal entries during Readercon. Back in March, I promised myself I'd make an entry every day for six months. But I'm not about to pay the hotel's exorbitant charge for internet access, so I really have no idea how I'm going to make it happen. Not that anyone much still reads LJ – they're all too busy with the easy, instant gratification and minimal compositional prerequisites of Twitter and Facebook – but it's important to me, if only because it's a promise I made to me.

Maybe I'll spend the day lying on the kitchen floor. The view from there isn't so bad.

Here are the photos from Saturday that I'd wanted to post yesterday.





View to the north from Beavertail. A couple of the aforementioned students on the right.



A dog belonging to the students.



The sea churning below where we'd stretched our blanket.



A shot Sonya took while wading. View to the southwest, towards Narragansett.



Spooky and I, in the sun. View to the northwest.



Sonya and fishermen (who caught nothing but seaweed). View to the southwest.



A very wonderful beetle that we found crawling on Spooky's foot.



As we left, Sonya spotted this very cool book on the dashboard of the car parked next to ours.

All photographs Copyright © 2011 by Caitlín R. Kiernan, Kathryn A. Pollnac, and Sonya Taaffe.

Comments

[greygirlbeast.livejournal.com]

I never cared for Gulf Shores

When I was young, the Gulf was beautiful, more beautiful than any shore I've ever swum from. It was clear and warm, and the beaches were the whitest sand.

[strange-selkie.livejournal.com]

I distinctly remember it being that way when we first moved South, when I was 9 or 10; but when I was 23 and living with my mother in Birmingham again after the attempt at heteronormativity and graduate school, well-meaning friends spirited me away a couple of times to throw me in the water before my metaphorical flippers parched, and it had become very broke-down and sad.

[greygirlbeast.livejournal.com]

and it had become very broke-down and sad.

This is the way of all the world now. Only a matter of when.