greygirlbeast: (Eli6)
Yesterday was the sort of day I spend looking for the story, but not actually writing the story. I finally sat down and re-read a couple of chapters of Michael E. Bell's Food for the Dead: On the Trail of New England's Vampires (Carroll and Graf Publishers, 2001), specifically chapters 11 ("Relicks of Many Old Customs") and 12 ("A Ghoul in Every Deserted Fireplace"). It helped get my head where my head needs to be. I'd wanted to head back to Newport, back to the old library, but the weather was shit, bitter cold, and besides, this is the weekend of the big-ass Newport St. Patrick's Day fiasco. So. This weekend I try to get the story started. If it hasn't happened by Monday, we go back to Newport. Oh, I did find a title, "As Red as Red." I think one thing that I'm having trouble with here is shaping a story that's equal parts werewolf and vampire tale (and no, not in the quasi-moronic Underworld sense).

So, yeah, yesterday was mostly spent sitting in the big chair in the front parlour, in a marvelous pool of afternoon sunlight, pretending it's not still winter out there, reading.

An unexpected, but very welcome, royalty check arrived from my German publisher. It seems the German translation of Threshold is selling well. So, maybe I still have a shot at Werner Herzog.

I washed my hair. I didn't leave the house.

Last night, after dinner, we watched Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later (2002), which we'd not seen since its theatrical release. I still find it a marvelous, impressively paced, and splendidly tense film. I do wish people wouldn't think of it as a zombie film, as it clearly isn't. The "infected" are not "running zombies," as they're not dead. The most interesting thing last night was watching the various "alternative" endings. The first is, I believe, clearly the original theatrical ending (it was labeled "alternative theatrical"), the one that test audiences likely found "too grim" or some such malarky. After escaping Major Henry West's (Christopher Eccleston) compound, Selena (Naomie Harris) and Hannah (Megan Burns) manage to get the gut-shot Jim (Cillian Murphy) to an abandoned hospital, but despite Selena's efforts, fail to save his life. However, he has managed to tell them about the plane he saw before rescuing them, and the film ends with Selena and Hannah setting off into an uncertain, but possibly not hopeless future. It's just a better ending, and it fits better than the theatrical-release ending. It closes a circle. Jim awakes in a hospital to the end of England, and the film closes after he's died in another hospital. There was also another "radical alternative" ending that was never filmed, but which Danny Boyle and Alex Garland present, via storyboards, a completely different possibility for the final third of the film, one where the soldiers are not introduced. It was interesting, but as Boyle and Garland admit, never would have worked. After the movie, we read more of Holly Black and Cecil Castellucci's Geektastic: Stories from the Nerd Herd. I neglected to mention, yesterday, that this book is actually making me miss Dragon*Con, and I thought that was impossible.

There are books I really should be spending more time and energy promoting. I mean, that is the primary reason this journal exists. So, remember that next month Subterranean Press will be releasing the trade paperback edition of Alabaster, which collects all the Dancy Flammarion stories (except for "Highway 97"), complete with all Ted Naifeh's artwork. Also, if you haven't read yet read Daughter of Hounds, well, what are you waiting for? No, it's not necessary to read the earlier books first. Daughter of Hounds is a fine place to begin.

And now, the word mines.
greygirlbeast: (white)
Because, you know, you can only write "yesterday I didn't write anything" so many times. It gets old. But yesterday I did write, 1,332 words on a piece called "Scene in the Museum (1896)" for Sirenia Digest #21. It did about 300 words the day before. I'm getting back in the saddle, as they say. I am striving, presently, to write an erotic tale that has neither fantasy nor sf elements (though it has a murder-ballad edge); we shall see how that goes.

The heat continues, though we did get a brief respite yesterday, and it won't be too terrible today — only 90F right now, with a heat index of 98F, high forecast at 96F. But if the meteorologists are to be trusted, the worst of August will arrive later this week. I went five days without leaving the house. Last night, Spooky pushed me out the front door and we had a good and bat-haunted walk. Then, later, we went out again to try to catch a glimpse of this year's Perseid shower, but between the inescapable light pollution of Atlanta and the humidity (which was making a glowing haze of the former), little could be glimpsed of the sky, and no meteors were seen. I think it was about 2:45 a.m. when we came in from not seeing meteors.

Nothing much to say about the last couple of unblogged days. Besides the writing. We're working our way through the Matrix trilogy again: The Matrix on Saturday (nine years already?), then The Matrix Reloaded last night. They hold up well, and the second film is, I think, far better than I gave it credit for being at the time of its original release. I'm still reading bits and pieces of Anaïs Nin, and yesterday Spooky picked up a copy of Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters (1998), a sort of modern Victorian erotic novel. We seem to be swaying in that direction these days. Well, that and wooden legs with secret compartments for the stowing of Derringers. I've been getting by on absinthe, iced coffee, Red Bull, pink lemonade, and as little food as possible. Byron came around on Friday night for Dr. Who and didn't leave until sometime after one a.m. It's official: David Tennant has grown on me. Now Byron's in Chicago for a week of job training, so we shall be even more reclusive than usual. On Friday, I guess it was, I read all of Mike Mignola's Jenny Finn, which I'd been meaning to get to for forever. We've had quite a bit of Second Life, though I closed the Palaeozoic Museum until August 17th, while I prepare the cephalopod exhibit. And really, those are the highlights.

This week, I have to decide on the cover artist (likely to be a photographer) for the forthcoming subpress edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder.

I've been pointed towards the blogs of various members of Abney Park: [livejournal.com profile] robert_from_ap, [livejournal.com profile] abneyangel, [livejournal.com profile] nathan_fhtagn, and [livejournal.com profile] magdaleneveen. My thanks to [livejournal.com profile] ellyssian and [livejournal.com profile] chenderson for those links!

Though I think I have made this announcement already, I'll make it again, to avoid confusion: No, I will not be at Dragon*Con this year. I'm too busy, too far behind on deadlines, and, at any rate, I think the days of conventions are behind me.

Okay. It's 12:39, and I must get back to the writing. I'd still love to see more comments on Sirenia Diigest #20!
greygirlbeast: (Nar'eth4)
I do wish it were not necessary to make this announcement. But. Regrettably, I shall not be attending Dragon*Con this weekend. I was unable to come to a satisfactory agreement with the convention programming staff regarding my scheduling and advised them today that I would not be coming. No ill will on my part, just a lot of confusion. Maybe next year. Maybe not. I apologise to anyone reading this who will in anyway be inconvenienced by my decision. I especially apologise to Jada, Sissy, Kat, Jean-Paul, Rogue and Jessica, Ted and Kelly, and Voltaire, as I was very much looking forward to spending time with all of you.

Ah, well. There's too much frelling work to do, anyway.

Hasn't anyone out there received his, her, or its copy of Alabaster yet?
greygirlbeast: (chi2)
Asleep too late, up too early. Blegh.

Today, we'll finally finish proofreading the galleys for Alabaster. We did "Les Fleurs Empoisonnèes" yesterday. It was good to see that I still love this story, written way back in 2001, but the errors we found were annoying. On p. 28, "early sixth century BC," which ought to be "early Sixth Century B.C.", for example, with B.C. in small caps. Or the fact that Dancy is mysteriously wearing tennis shoes, when she's wearing boots in all the other stories and in Threshold. And I will not even get started on the punctuation. And, I think, this is a nice segue way...

Sometimes, like this morning, trying to make the Life of a Writer, or at least the life of this writer, interesting is an effort that entirely eludes me. Yesterday, for example, we proofread. Wow. And there was all the frelling busyness, which I won't get into. I start yawning just thinking about it, and yet I get up each morning and try to make it interesting. 99% of what I do involves sitting at this desk, either pecking on the iBook, looking up obscure bits of this or that, or staring out the damn window. And I'm of the opinion that this is pretty much the norm for writers. Which is to say, I'm having a lot of trouble this morning fashioning an entry that won't put everyone to sleep (and I'm hardly awake myself).

We had a nice walk yesterday. Spooky found an empty luna moth (Actias luna) chrysalis.

Really, that was the highpoint of the day.

Mostly, these days, I'm trying to look forward to the trip to Rhode Island this summer and to Dragon*Con. This will be my twelfth Dragon*Con. I should get a special badge or a cake with candles or a least a celebratory orgy. Jada's talking about coming down this year. That would be cool, as I haven't seen her since May 2003. The Crüxshadows will be there, and I haven't seen Rogue and Jessica since...wow...since Dragon*Con 2004. Ted will be there, and we've talked about doing an Alabaster panel. I might spend a day as Nar'eth, or I might do a drow costume, or perhaps a fairie, or maybe I won't costume at all. I'd love to do a half Nebari, half Klingon. How cool would that be? In the trade, we call this filler. Or padding. Anyway, yes, I will be at Dragon*Con this year and will be myself for at least part of it. You are all invited. I'm doing so few public appearances these days, having pretty much lost interest in such things, I can honestly say that it's a rare opportunity to meet me face-to-face.

Okay. Enough with the dilly-dallying. Where's my red pen...

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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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