Caitlín R. Kiernan

And I said to Spooky just now, before she ran off to catch the kettle because it was whistling, "I want to scream. I want to scream very loudly. I want to scream so very loudly that blood flies out of my mouth before I'm done." And she said, "I think in this neighborhood it wouldn't be a good idea."

Yes, well.

Anyway.

Still more editing today, because I did not finish with the Daughter of Hounds typescript yesterday. Indeed, yesterday was a perfect proof-reading/editing nightmare. I had nine items on my "loose threads" list. Number one seemed simple enough, until Spooky realized that it was the tip of a continuity-error iceberg that might have sunk at least a dozen Titanics. Somehow, I'd misplaced about twelve hours. In the book, what should have been Sunday was Monday. And this sort of thing, a small, small stone dropped on still water, and then there are ripples that race away through the 7.5 cm. depth (page one to page six ninety-one) of the ms. becoming a goddamn tsunami. Which is to say, it was bad. No. It was worse than bad. And cursing myself and cursing Spooky for having found it and cursing in general and then still having to fix it when all the cursing was done took almost two hours, and I still had eight items remaining on the "loose threads" list. Once Monday had been made Sunday and Tuesday was Monday and Wednesday was Tuesday and there was still Wednesday and the whole mess finally ended on Thursday, February somethingoranother 2010, after all that, about three p.m., I got dressed and we went for a walk. Not so long a walk as the day before. But I had to get away from the ms. long enough that the desire to toss my iBook out the office window and burn all copies of the ms. and then begin slicing off bits of myself had passed.

Later, I found titles for chapters three, six, and eight (though I may change three today). I found epigraphs for Part One and Part Two. I added a new scene near the end of the book. I wrote a little foreword thing explaining the appendices. And realized one thing was missing from my list, so, when all was said and done, about six p.m. yesterday, I still had five items remaining on the list. Plus, we need to proof the appendices. And who knows what the frell else. I shall be tweaking this thing until sometime on Monday when it finally goes away to my editor in NYC.

This weekend, I'd hoped to make either the Georgia Mineral Society's annual show or the 2006 Atlanta Celtic Festival in Duluth. Of course, both these things would have required me to travel OTP, so maybe it's better this way.

Byron came over for Dr. Who last night, and we had calzones and watched some of G4's coverage of E3 and talked dren about how badly Morgan Webb dresses and how you can tell Olivia Munn is reading the teleprompter and how Adam Sessler totally dorks out whenever he does an interview and how much we miss Leo and Screen Savers and Call for Help. I will say that I think the last two eps of Dr. Who have been truly extraordinary television sf. I mean, Farscape extraordinary. Christopher Eccleston. It's such a shame we only get him for one season. But, as Byron pointed out last night, at least I have a new favorite Doctor now (sorry, Tom Baker). Of course, it's also good to know that this role won't ruin Eccleston's career, and that he'll go on to do other wonderful things, and won't have to spend the next thirty years eking out a living by signing photographs for fanboys at cons.

Er...let's see. The good news is that a polar bear/grizzly hybrid has been discovered in the wild for the first time. But the bad news is we only know this because some 65-year-old cocksucker from Idaho murdered it. It seems to me that with all the frelling Viagra® and various other dick-enlarging and stiffening and augmenting crap on the market now, old men from Idaho would no longer need to journey to the Canadian Arctic to murder bears with high-powered rifles in order to prove their "manhood" has not yet waned. What I want to know is when does human season begin, and may I please use nothing more than a pointy stick and a dull grapefruit spoon to bring down my quarry?

I'm still watching the Sirenia Digest poll and hoping to see some more votes. My thanks to everyone who's voted, and my apologies to non-LJ people who can't vote without first becoming LJ people. I don't make the rules. If I did, that bear would still be alive.