greygirlbeast | Entries tagged with nothing in particular

Sirenia Digest #5 (Vol. 2, No. 4) has gone out. I do hope people are pleased with it. This was a hard one, for a number of reasons, none of which I quite feel like saying aloud. As always, comments are welcome. And it's not too late to subscribe and get this month's issue. In fact, subscribe today and you will get a free copy of the trade paperback of Silk, signed and, if you so desire, inscribed to you (or someone else). Also, on the last day of April, I'll draw one name from April's new subscribers and that person will win a signed copy of the Italian edition of Threshold — La Soglia. Just click here, read the FAQ, and then subscribe. Thanks.

We had storms last night, and the day is grey and damp. The leaves glow, anyway.

There really isn't much to say about yesterday. I worked all afternoon on Sirenia Digest. I didn't leave the house. It's been a while since I let a whole day go by without stepping outside. Today, I have last minute layout work on Alabaster to attend to, and there are some e-mails I should answer. Beyond that, I don't know. The taxing situation, alluded to earlier, was resolved yesterday. It's much too early to say whether or not it was resolved for the best, but it has left me with work that has to be done by Monday. I need to start the Dancy vignette, too.

I don't know yet whether or not the print-run on the Alabaster limited will be extended. I'll let you know just as soon as I do.

At midnight last night I was getting ready for bed and noticed that Patton (1970) was just starting on FMC, so I was up until three a.m. And then there were strange dreams I can't now recall.

Yesterday the sun came back, and for that I am grateful (even if I have nothing but the indifferent, asentient universe to whom I can express that gratitude); it came back, and it came back warm.

We were picking flowers in Freedom Park yesterday, and there was a tree with twelve crows. Not the same tree that I'd dreamt of as being filled with crows. Another tree, farther west, at the top of the hill where the homeless people camp at night. The sound of an oak tree with a dozen crows in its branches is at once rude and wonderful.

A very strange dream this morning, and I'm afraid most of me's still there, in that dreamspace, in the emptiness left by it absence, which means I'm not much use here and now. I won't write the dream down now. Maybe tomorrow, unless it fades away and there's nothing to remember, nothing to write out, and right now that would be okay with me.

There are a couple of things I should note this morning. For one, my websites, both caitlinrkiernan.com and caitlin-r-kiernan.com, will be offline for a few days, beginning sometime today. I'm tired of looking at the mess they've become, and I hope that taking them down will motivate me to clean things up. For another, the Alabaster ARC auction ends today, in only 8 hours and 48 minutes, and yes, this really is the only one of these that I'll be putting on eBay. The "choose your own letter" Frog Toes and Tentacles auction continues apace.