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1) This is the year that you may celebrate the last year of the first decade of the new millennium. Yes, you have my permission. I wouldn't have mentioned it, but I made such a big deal, in last year's New Year's Eve post, about how 2009 wasn't the end of the first decade of the new millennium.

2) Yesterday, I wrote 1,246 words on "—30—", which I should be able to finish tomorrow, for Sirenia Digest #61. I might have written more, but I had to pause to read Michael Drayton's "Nymphidia" over again. Also, yesterday Spooky sent the Dancy Cigar Box off to the winner of the auction, Mr. Steven Lubold.

3) Heads up. The super special sale price for the limited edition of Two Worlds and In Between ends at 5 PM (EST) this evening. At this point, more than 450 of the 600-copy print run of the limited have been reserved (originally a 400-copy print run). So, yeah. Last chance to save $20 on the limited. Take heed.

4) Yesterday I also corralled the best answers to the question I asked last year on the 30th of December, "If you had me alone, locked up in your house, for twenty-four hours and I had to do whatever you wanted me to, what would you have me/you/us do?", and those will also be appearing...belatedly...in Sirenia Digest #61. Also, if you weren't reading the blog last year and would like to get in on this, you can email me a reply today or tonight or tomorrow, to greygirlbeast(at)gmail(dot)com. All answers will be published anonymously, so feel free to feel free. But no answers about how you'd spend all that time reading to me, or how you'd make me take a nap, or how you'd cook for me, force me to go Outside, or help me write, or have long conversations with me about writing and literature and dreams and magick. I'm looking for something spicier here. Although, forcing me to write or talk about writing would certainly rank fairly high on the sadism meter.

5) Two movies last night. I was sort of in a crime/thriller/noir headspace. We began with Richard Shepard's Oxygen (1999), because we're determined to see everything in which Adrien Brody has ever appeared. Not bad, though Brody was by far the best of it. Next, we watched D.J. Caruso's The Salton Sea (2002), which I liked quite a lot, really. Vincent D'Onofrio can always be counted on to add something wonderfully weird to any film in which he appears, and this was no exception. The very ending felt tacked on, though, as if maybe the studio execs got skittish of the bleak ending we almost get before the film unconvincingly tries to fake you out so that Val Kilmer can walk away into the sunset. Also, I find it odd Caruso would make a film titled The Salton Sea, in which horrific events have occurred at the Salton Sea, but fail to take advantage of the surreal landscape surrounding the Salton Sea. Still, I liked it.

6) I'm not gonna bother with any actual "best of" lists this year, if only because the Lamictal has made such a mess of my short-term memory. I strongly suspect I've not yet seen all the best films of 2010, but I'm going to say that the best films of 2010 that I have seen are (in no particular order) Black Swan, Inception, Shutter Island, and The Social Network. I also adored Tim Burton's version of Alice in Wonderland and Kick Ass. Turns out, a lot of my favorite films from 2010 were released in 2009 (Neil Jordan's Ondine comes to mind). My reading habits are too spotty to say much at all about the best books of the year, though I did adore Patti Smith's Just Kids and Kristin Hirsh's Rat Girl. As for music, my listening habits have been even spottier, but, off the top of my head, my favorite album was probably Broken Bells' self-titled release.

7) Most years, I give the whole idea of New Year's resolutions the middle finger (which I was recently amused to hear described as the "Massachusetts State Bird," which is fair, given that the Rhode Island State Bird is the Dunkin' Donuts Cruller). Anyway, this year I actually do have a few resolutions, which I mean not only to make (which is easy), but to keep (which is hard). For starters, unless I'm too sick, I will leave the House at least once every four days. I've also decided to work harder at witchcraft and magick, which is one of the parts of my life that's been sort of lost in the chaos of the last two years. I'm going to read a lot more and game a lot less. And so on and so forth. You get the idea.

8) One of the coolest things I can say about 2010 is that I only got sick once (we're not counting my long list of chronic maladies here, just contagions). Back in January, I caught some sort of hideous bug when I did a reading in Brooklyn, and was down for a few days, but that was it. Garlic and hot, hot peppers, you rule.

And now, it's time to make some Rhode Island state birds....
greygirlbeast: (Bowie2)
The sort of nightmares that came this morning, the sort that leave me dreamsick and ill-rested, I think that I've called them spectacular in previous entries. This is not inaccurate, in that they surely present spectacle.

There was too much work yesterday, all day and well into the night. I wrote 1,018 words. Spooky did a very complicated photo for the website redesign, then did some work on it in PhotoShop, only to discover I'd left a crucial element out of the composition, so it has to be reshot today. Then we went back to proofreading Low Red Moon for the mmp edition due out in August and made it through Chapter Ten ("The Pool of Tears") and Chapter Eleven ("Lullaby") — pp. 206-263 in the Roc tpb.

Actually, we had a long walk late in the afternoon, almost dusk, before the proofreading started. Back to Freedom Park, west past the wax-myrtle bushes all the way to Freedom Parkway, then north and east, following North Ave. back towards home. The weather was warm, 65F, and I could walk in a tank top. But it was determined that North Ave. at "rush hour" is not suitable for walking, as the fumes from automobiles cannot possibly help but negate any healthful benefits. Spooky and I made chili for dinner, with lots of lime and Jose Cuervo Especial.

As we near the end of Low Red Moon, the deck chairs thing isn't bothering me quite as much. No doubt, it's still just as true, but I think I've allowed myself to become more caught up in the story and the characters instead of dwelling on the futility of hoping for a wider readership. In this book more than anything else I've ever written, there are moments when the brutality of the events in the novel — the brutality of that fictional history — leaves me feeling oddly ashamed and angry with myself. One of those little voices in my head, not so different from Narcissa's ghosts, murmurs, It didn't have to be like that. It could have gone differently. But I know that's a lie. Or, rather, I know that if I'd dodged the truth of the story I was telling, I'd have written a lie, a deeper lie than the superficial lie of all fiction. Be true to the story, not your conscience. Be true or get a job flipping burgers. Truth is the only thing I have to offer at the end of the day. My truths. They will not always be the same as your truths. Reading yesterday, I kept seeing all these "unrealised realities," how it all might have gone, how it might have been less brutal, if I'd simply allowed myself to lie about the whole thing.

I think there may still be a few copies of the limited edition of Tales from the Woeful Platypus available, but I'm not sure. I expect they'll all be gone by the end of this week, at the latest.

When the work was finally done, we watched the first part of the Sci-Fi Channel's mini-series, The Lost Room. It was better than what I'd expected. What I'd expected was the sort of thing Vertigo's publishing these days. It's a little bit better than that. The influence of House of Leaves is everywhere, right down to the rumbling growl we hear each time the door to room is opened or shut, each time it "resets." And I'm pretty sure that Elle Fanning is Dakota's clone. I'm left wondering how many Fanning's will follow. Perhaps there will be one available when the Dancy movie is finally cast. Anyway, we'll be watching the rest of The Lost Room. It has promise. I'm just hoping the ending lives up to the premise. I'm hoping, if there must be resolution at the end, the writers came up with something that will actually surprise me. I'm not usually like that. I don't often ask for originality and tend to feel that the quest for novelty is one of the less endearing traits of science fiction literature and film. But in this case, I know there will be more explanation of the phenomenon than is called for, so it better be some revelation that's worth the spoiling of a perfectly good mystery. In fact, that could be my rule of thumb for resolution in dark fantasy and sf: if there must be resolution and explanation, it must be something worth its weight in mystery. Most times, I'd be content with the mystery (as in House of Leaves, for example).

Okay. The day isn't going to get started until I end this entry. So —

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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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