greygirlbeast: (Narcissa)
So, first off, yes, The Ammonite Violin & Others has been nominated for a World Fantasy Award in the category of Best Collection. And yes, I am surprised and very pleased. Richard A. Kirk (who did the cover and endpapers for The Ammonite Violin & Others) is also nominated for a WFA this year, in the category of Best Artist. And! He's the Artist Guest of Honor at the 2012 World Fantasy Convention in Toronto. So, don't we fucking rock? My thanks to everyone who sent congratulations yesterday, including the 200+ who did so via Facebook. Soon, we will be listing copies of the sold-out collection on eBay to commemorate the nomination.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,749 words on Chapter Five of Blood Oranges, and the wolfulous aspects of Siobahn Quinn's nature made their first appearance. May I write as well today.

We had dinner from the farmer's market. Spooky brought back a huge tomato, four ears of corn, peaches, and a length of kielbasa (from pigs born, raised, and slaughtered out on Connanicut Island). A locavore's feast, it was.

And now, from the Ministry of the Truly Fucking Embarrassing, the van finally came back from the shop on Tuesday, as you know, and yesterday afternoon Spooky discovered a cache of unmailed eBay packages in back, mostly hidden by a beach towel. And our eBay customers must be bloody saints, because no one has said, "Hey, my book's a month late!" Thank you for that. Anyway, amongst said packages were the signed signature sheets for Two Worlds & In Between. Now, I signed all 600 of the damned things way back on May 19th (and if you look at this entry, you'll see a photo of me doing it). And then...well...shit happens. I lost track. I'd feel worse about this if anyone at Subterranean Press had noticed the pages hadn't arrived. They'll go into the mail today, along with the tardy eBay packages, and all the more recent eBay packages.

Here's a new and very brief interview with me, on the occasion of the reprinting of "Charcloth, Firesteel, and Flint" in the forthcoming A Book of Horrors (even though I am not a horror writer), edited by Stephen Jones. Yeah, I go for the danishes every time. Especially if they're cherry and cream cheese.

I should also mention another anthology, Halloween (Prime Books, edited by Paula Guran), which will be reprinting "On the Reef."

Okay...that's a lot of announcements. Enough for one day. The platypus is looking askance, the lowly fucker. But I will say Rift RP is going very well. We had a great scene last night, and my thanks to everyone in our guild, Watchers of the Unseen, who took part. Despite a sort of rocky beginning, the scene quickly became what was probably the best large-scale group RP (as opposed to one-on-one) I've done since my days in the late, lamented Dune sim on Second Life (ca. February 2008). Sure, last night was all mages and warriors, but what the hell. Oh, and one very troublesome rogue.

Yeah, platypus. Keep your panties on. Comment, kittens!

Undefeated,
Aunt Beast
greygirlbeast: (Default)
Just as the last of the snow was melting, it snowed again last night. Not much here in Providence, but more up north.

Yesterday, I wrote another 1,068 words on the last chapter of The Drowning Girl: A Memoir. I think I'm terrified. The book is a house of cards, and I'm stacking more on top, and pulling cards out from the bottom, and somehow I have to keep the whole from toppling over. And there's to be a lot of sexual energy at the end, and it has to absolutely not become pornographic (not because I have anything against porn, but because that's not what this is meant to be).

Thanks to the awesome Richard A. Kirk, who sent me a copy of his illustrated novella, The Lost Machine. It's beautiful. You should order a copy. I say so. Also, there's a forward by Mike Mignola! In case you're unaware, I've worked with Rick on...let me see...five books, five books since 2000. Most recently, he did the amazing cover for The Ammonite Violin and Others.

Today, I think there's going to be a very small adventure, and then work, and a little work after that. I think.

---

Selwyn made Level 13 last night, and Shaharrazad is only five quests (out of 86) away from having the Blade's Edge Mountains achievement (and so one achievement nearer Loremaster). Too much gaming. And, mostly, I'm having some weird worldshock, jumping back and forth between Telara and Azeroth. The latter being bright and cartoonish and silly, the former being so rich and urgent and possessed of depth. Oh, and there was about an hour of rp with a friend in Telara last night. She's another mage, named Enthlye. We sat on the docks at Kelari Refuge and had a conversation. It was very good, and I can see Rift lending itself to good rp, once you learn the lore. Well, actually, Enthlye talked and Selwyn scribbled on the planks with a stub of charcoal. When she made the jump from the future to the past, something went wrong, and she has no tongue. I've also discovered that Selwyn prefers to work magic with a sword, instead of a staff.

And, also, I really wish that people on SL and in MMORPGs would understand that roleplaying isn't writing. It's acting. And no, it's not collaborative writing. That's what actual writers who write together do. RP is theater, improvisational theater, and if you understand this one simple fact, you can make it good and rewarding. But to call it acting is like calling the act of writing a novel acting, which it isn't, no matter how deeply I immerse myself in a character. Now, you can write stories based on or inspired by rp (I've done that), but that happens after the actual rp, and it's writing, not rping.

Honestly, it feels like there are these people who want to be writers, but either they have no talent or they won't sign off a damned game or social dohicky or whatever long enough to endure the intense solitude of writing, so they're trying to change the definition of writing to include what they're doing.*

---

I'm loving The Hunger Games more and more and more.

Okay, must take meds and finish coffee.

*Postscript (4:45 p.m.): To quote my post of January 28th, "1) Do not assume that because I express my views that I'm obligated to defend those views to you or engage in a dialogue, or even listen to your views. And I will exchange the favour."
greygirlbeast: (Default)
Two nights (well, mornings) in a row now, I've slept more than eight hours. Amazing.

Yesterday was, in large part, given over to email and other bits of business related to the "Best of" volume. I think that tomorrow I will most likely be posting a table of contents. There are only a couple of details left to be ironed out. Regarding the art section in the lettered and/or numbered state, I'm very pleased to report that both Richard Kirk and Vince Locke are on board. I still have several other artists to speak with, but Rick and Vince are the heart of that part of the book.

I did get some writing done yesterday. I wrote a new poem, "Atlantis," which will go out to those people who so kindly donated to help me get Spooky's birthday present this year. Each will get the poem, on a good paper stock, numbered and signed. I sent the poem to [livejournal.com profile] sovay and [livejournal.com profile] nineweaving, and their reactions were heartening. It's good to write something that I can see is good. That might sound odd, but it doesn't happen as often as you might think.

Plans have been finalized for my appearance at the H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival and CthulhuCon this year (October 1-3) in Portland, Oregon. I may also arrange an offsite book signing. So, if you're one of the many Portland people who've been asking me to make an appearance in that area, you got your wish, and I hope to see you.

---

Last night, [livejournal.com profile] wolven posted this about "Sanderlings," and I want to repost it:

Thank you for this story; it keeps unfolding, in my mind. Particularly The Boy on the beach. Watching the transition, watching The End, Clara's only interaction with the "Outside World;" and, throughout their interaction, after the light in the room, I kept hearing the line "whatever it is that Sanderlings eat." The colour, the Life leeching simultaneously into and out of Mary.

But always the boy. Always his civil, pitying response. The Recording "Angel" holding vigil over all that Clara has lost the ability to appreciate, in her choosing to not see the terrible things. This vigil feels like... an inventory, or a survey, or an engaging and deep meaningful rumination on that which will soon be passed on to him. There's no malice, there. Just an inevitability and a weight.

As the only perspective external to the house, it is... arresting.


Oh, and I came across this thoughtful, articulate, respectful, and utterly wrongheaded review of The Red Tree.

---

Last night, we watched the last two episodes of Season Three of Nip/Tuck. It was a good finalé, but not nearly as powerful as the end of Season Two, which was one of the best hours of television I've ever seen.

I also got in some very excellent rp in Insilico. After failing an empathy test, Xiang 1.5 has managed to elude capture by IPS officers by signing on with a salvage ship called Beowulf. IPS jurisdiction doesn't extend to ships in orbit. The captain obtained, through highly questionable means, a new shell for Xiang, a chassis that's mostly organic, all blood and bone and muscle, and her positronic matrix was transplanted. The process was successful. Her ident chip was replaced and her AI completely shielded. She can finally pass for human. She's signed on as security with the Beowulf, assuming the rank of Master Chief Petty Officer and a new name, Grendel Ishmene (her choice, not mine). Her new body was designed for military use, primarily offworld black-ops wetwork, so...wow...I am going on about this. Sorry. On those rare occasions when rp in SL works, it's wonderful.

The platypus is glaring at me with his beady black monotreme eyes. I dare not disobey.
greygirlbeast: (white)
Last night, I learned that The Ammonite Violin & Others has made the cover of Publishers Weekly (Volume 257 Issue 27 07/12/2010). It should go without saying that I am quite entirely pleased and somewhat gobsmacked. Here's the cover (the largest image I could find):



You can read the cover story here. And there's also a nice profile of Subterranean Press in the same issue, which you can read here.

Sadly, not only do I not have a subscription to Publishers Weekly, we spent part of the morning calling bookshops in Providence and Warwick, including the Brown University Bookstore, and were unable to find anyone who carries it. So, if some kind reader could please send me a copy, I would obviously be very, very grateful:

P.O. Box 603096
Providence, RI 02906

I need to let Rick Kirk know...
greygirlbeast: (Default)
Today is mine and Spooky's eighth anniversary. We would go to the shore, were it not also the weekend of the Fourth.

Another six and half hours spent editing "The Maltese Unicorn" yesterday, but now, finally, it is pretty much done. I wrote approximately 1,500 words yesterday. Hard to be sure, since it was done in bits and pieces, here and there. Tomorrow, we'll read over the entire story— start to finish —and I'll tweak a few more things, and then it goes away to the anthology's editor again, and I will futz with it no more. It was an utterly, completely exhausting writing day.

Yesterday, my contributor's copy of Swords and Dark Magic, edited by Johnathan Strahan and Lou Anders, arrived. It contains my story "The Sea Troll's Daughter," and stories by many fine authors. I am very pleased to have been given the chance to be a part of this book.

Also, to all those people who chipped in for Spooky's birthday present, I haven't forgotten that I owe you a poem. It's coming.

Spooky began a new round of eBay auctions yesterday, including one of the mega-ultra scarce Salammbô T-shirts that were printed for the original release of Tales of Pain and Wonder, way back in 2000. We only have three or four of these left (I think a hundred were made), including the one that's being auctioned. The art, of course, is by Richard A. Kirk.

I found two titles yesterday. "The SEA is Lovely, Dark and Deep" and "How the Moon Got Its Whiskers." Now I only have to find their stories.

Spooky and I have, belatedly, become addicted to 24. We've blown through the first ten episodes of Season One in two nights.
greygirlbeast: (Walter1)
1. I began yesterday's entry with the following line: It's a dream-kill-dream world in here..., which I attributed to David Bowie. Then someone asked which song, in particular, I was quoting, that they'd googled the quote and come up with nothing. I had it in my head the line was from "Get Real," which was originally meant to be part of Outside (1995), but didn't make the cut. Turns out, I was wrong. Indeed, I cannot presently trace the quote to anything Bowie has written— or anything anyone else has written, for that matter —and it's all gotten alarmingly odd. It's used as an epigraph in my chapbook B is for Beginnings (2009), where I thought I'd attributed the quote to Bowie. Only, I didn't. I did not attribute it to anyone. So, now I have no idea where it might have originated. Did I write it? Did I find it online somewhere, on a page that has since vanished? At this point, I can't say. But if anyone should happen to solve this mystery, I would be grateful.

2. Yesterday, I began a new vignette, presently called "Untitled 35." I wrote only 624 words, for a number of reasons. Mostly, I got started very late in the day, around 3 p.m. (CaST). However, another problem goes back to what I have often said about science fiction (yes, "Untitled 35" is sf), the problem of linguistic evolution. Very few authors have ever managed to deal with this convincingly when writing about future societies. In my eyes, even Anthony Burgess' excellent A Clockwork Orange (1962) falls short in this regard, and Burgess was a trained linguist. Anyway, point being, in this new piece, a first-person narration, I am struggling to create a somewhat plausible "future language" for a late 21st Century Boston.

Of course, it needs to remain comprehensible to readers in 2010, which hobbles me considerably. But I am always galled by futuristic sf (even the stuff I like) that doesn't at least make some effort to deal with linguistic drift and evolution. Stories set two or three hundred years in the future, in which everyone speaks perfectly understandable English, and so forth; I consider this a far worse offense than "getting the science wrong" (though, technically, this is a matter of anthropology). Ideally, films and stories set that far ahead would need subtitles and glossaries. Think of it this way: Imagine you're living in 1820, in England, and somehow happen across a copy of William Gibson's Burning Chrome. Just how much sense would it make to you?

3. The final cover design for The Ammonite Violin & Others is now up at Subterranean Press, though I've neglected to post it here. Another great piece by Richard Kirk:



4. And now, another day begins. I apparently have no say in this, which seems odd.
greygirlbeast: (walter3)
1. Sooner of later, I will stop numbering the items within my entries. Any day now, my mind will cease to be so disorganized.

2. My thanks to everyone who reported "Blue Tyson's" Amazon.com "review" of The Red Tree. Hopefully, it'll come down soon. Near as I can tell, this guy's Australian, and he got his knickers in a twist because of Kindle limitations ("georestrictions"). So, he did the rational thing, and took it out on the one person who has absolutely no say in whether or not her book is available in Australia. The person who wrote the book. Mostly, I want to say to him, dude, buy a fucking copy of the book. An actual hard copy. If you really want to read it, I mean. Stop expecting the world to be what you think you need it to be. Stop being a whining fanboy. Lately, my tolerance for whiners has fallen near zero.

3. Last night, Richard Kirk sent me the artwork for the endpapers for The Ammonite Violin & Others. It's based on "Bridle" (Sirenia Digest #3, February 2006), which a few of you might remember, the kelpie story. Anyway, the art's beautiful. I'll post it here later on, in a few days.

4. Nothing was written yesterday, and, at this point, I am near to a full-on crisis, as far as The Wolf Who Cried Girl is concerned. I should be at least a couple of chapters in by now. I have a prologue. And a deadline. The time has come to find some way to stop fucking around and write the book. I have maybe a week, at best, before I have to set it aside and pull Sirenia Digest #50 together.

5. Last night, we watched Christine Jeffs' Sunshine Cleaners, which was really very good. I'm starting to think of Amy Adams as the new Nicole Kidman. We also watched the first episode of Primeval, which was goofy, but sort of fun. The paleontology was better than average, and I only cringed and rolled my eyes a few times. It was neat that they used creatures from the Permian Period (a gorgonopsid, a pareiasaur, and what appeared to be an oversized coelurosauravid named "Rex). And speaking of movies, I was very pleased to learn that Avatar won best picture at the Golden Globes, and James Cameron best director. Oh, and that Robert Downey, Jr. got best actor for Sherlock Holmes.

6. No Montauk Club photos today. Sorry, there wasn't time this morning to edit and upload them. Tomorrow, perhaps.

I can't accept and won't concede,
In aftermath we find redemption.
The causes that are seized
And disguised as revolution.

Quell the rage that deeply seethes,
The extremes of these devotions.
Dismantle the machine,
The device of their creation.

I can't accept and won't concede
That this is who we are....
(VNV Nation, "Sentinel")
greygirlbeast: (fisting)
1. There were terrible dreams this morning; I'm trying to let them all go, forget them. The only good thing about today thus far is that I'm having coffee with chicory for the first time in many years. I've been craving it for some time, and Spooky came back from the market on Thursday with a can of French Market. So, yeah, that one thing, at least, is good. Of course, I've only been up for about an hour, so the day may yet improve.

2. There was snow yesterday, but nothing heavy. I sat here at my desk and wrote the scene that I hope will open The Wolf Who Cried Girl, and I watched the snow spiraling down outside. Here in Providence, the ground has been white all year. Anyway, yeah, I did another 1,173 words yesterday. Today, I'll finish the prologue, and try to figure out if it really is how the book begins.

3. Okay, so here's the cool news about the forthcoming Audible.com adaptation of The Red Tree. I was informed on Thursday that it will be a multi-voice production, with different readers for Sharon Halperin (Sarah's editor), Sarah Crowe, and Charles Harvey. Which pleases me enormously, as this is how I want people to hear the novel. No word yet when it will be released. At this point, I'm working with Audible.com on a few very minor changes to the text, things that worked in print that obviously won't work for audio. The footnotes, for example.

4. I promised, back at the end of December, to post the cover art for The Ammonite Violin & Others, and then it slipped my mind. But, better late than never. Richard Kirk has, of course, done something brilliant. I'm placing it behind a cut, as the jpg is rather large:

The Ammonite Violin )


5. I'm very pleased to announce that "The Steam Dancer (1896)" will be reprinted in Ann and Jeff VanderMeer's forthcoming anthology, Steampunk Reloaded.

6. I'm surprised that there haven't been more responses to last night's "If I were a summonable monster" poll, given that there have been about fifty replies to the "If you had me alone, locked up in your house, for twenty-four hours..." poll. I actually thought last night's question was far more fun. Anyway, I'll keep reading for both right up until time to begin production on Sirenia Digest #50, so there's still plenty of time.

7. My great thanks to Steven Lubold of Phoenix Comics in Fairfax, Virginia, who sent Spooky and me a number of very fine books from our Amazon wishlists. The distractions are very much appreciated!
greygirlbeast: (tentacles)
A few minutes ago, Spooky said, "I think if the Crawling Chaos offered me an apple, I'd have to run the other way." Which makes quite a bit more sense if you've seen my "Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire" T-shirt (thank you, Black Phoenix Alchemy Labs), and I know you probably haven't.

Merry Cephalopodmas, one and all.

Yesterday, I read "The Jetsam of Disremembered Mechanics" to Spooky, and then tended to an awful lot of line edits. I think it's as good a story as it's ever going to be, so today I'll be sending it to subpress. By the way, this story will appear in an anthology of short stories inspired by the works of Robert Silverberg, edited by Gardner Doizois and Bill Schafer. Not sure of the publication date, but I'll post it when I know. My piece is a sort of "prequel" to Silveberg's Nightwings (1968, 1969). Also, yesterday I received the finished cover art for The Ammonite Violin & Others from Richard Kirk, and I'll post it here sometime in the next few days. It is truly, truly gorgeous. This is going to be a marvelous volume.

When work was done yesterday, Spooky and I bundled up and ventured out into the snowy world. Mountains of snow everywhere. We made it as far as the house at 599/597 Angell Street that was Deacon and Emmie's house in Daughter of Hounds. I'd not visited it since we moved here last summer, and, indeed, not since June 28th, 2004, when Spooky and I first happened upon it while I was researching the novel. It sits directly across the street from 598 Angell Street, where Lovecraft lived from 1904-1924. And after I took a few photos (below, behind the cut), we stopped by the market, then headed back home as the sun was setting.

Last night, we snacked on strawberry hamantashen and fresh Mandarin oranges and a huge tin of chocolate cookies, and watched a couple more episodes of Fringe. I rather enjoyed "August," no matter how blatantly the "observers" are ripped off from Dark City. And after that, there was WoW. We're fifty quests into the Borean Tundra (out of one hundred and fifty), and I really, really hate the region. After questing at Vengeance Landing and Dragonblight, it's just too disjointed and garish and noisy and hokey, too much like Outland, and I just want to be finished with it and get back to Dragonblight, which actually feels like a place. We both made Level 73. Shaharrazad has let her hair grow longer, what with the cold and all.

Sadly, there was very little in the way of Soltice ritual. I'm afraid that the whole "solitary practioner" thing just isn't working for me (I've been at it for five years now), and in the coming year I am going to make an earnest effort to either find or found a coven. I may even resort to WitchVox. There has to be at least one good GLBT-friendly coven in the area, one that isn't all fluffy bunnies and white-light nonsense.

Anyway, here are the photos from yesterday:

21 December 2009 )
greygirlbeast: (The Red Tree)
It's sunny this morning, but we had a wild night here in Providence. A storm swept up from the southwest, and the Hurricane Barrier was closed for the first time since we moved here from Atlanta. It seems that the storm combined with the full-moon tides has produced some alarming seas. Today, we're driving down to Narragansett and Point Judith to see the waves (we also have to stop by Spooky's parents' place for eggs).

This year, I have so-far entirely neglected to mention the arrival of Jethro Tull Season. Traditionally, it begins the day after Thanksgiving, and it helps me survive the winter and, most especially, the horrors of Xmas.

Yesterday I worked on the "Sanderlings" chapbook, which will come FREE with the numbered edition of The Ammonite Violin & Others (Subterranean Press, June 2010). Mostly, I worked on the cover (for newcomers, I often do the covers of my subpress chapbooks) and came up with something I like. I emailed it to Bill Schafer, and he approved. Also, I wrote an afterword for the chapbook. Now, "Sanderlings" itself just needs a bit of tweaking, mostly line edits, and I have to get a couple of other images ready, and then it will all go to subpress and be out of my hands. And speaking of The Ammonite Violin & Others, last night Richard Kirk sent me a pencil sketch, an early study for his cover for the collection. I'm thinking, what a beautiful tattoo this would make:


Copyright © 2009 by Richard A. Rirk, All rights reserved.


Also, I finished reading David Quammen's Monster of God: The Man-Eating Predator in the Jungles of History and the Mind. Research for the Next Novel, and, for the most part, an excellent (and heartbreaking) book. And I signed eBay books so Spooky could send them out to auction winners.

Oh, and I finished the crossword puzzle in the December National Geographic. These little details should be remembered.

Last night, we watched Darnell Martin's Cadillac Records (2008), which was quite good. I was especially taken with Eamonn Walker's performance as Howlin' Wolf. What with the trip to Boston and all, I forgot to mention that, Monday night, we watched Erick Zonca's Julia (not to be confused with either Peter Straub's novel or Fred Zinnemann's 1977 film, both of the same name). I'd only been alerted to the existence of this film the day before, by [livejournal.com profile] sovay, and then Spooky discovered we could stream it from Netflix. Tilda Swinton gives one of the most brilliant (and unexpected) performances of her career. So, yeah, lots of good movies lately.
greygirlbeast: (Eli2)
I got absolutely nothing done yesterday. Nothing. A headache started late on Wednesday night, and by yesterday morning was a full-blown migraine. There was not even the hope of writing. I spent much of the day in bed, delirious, dozing, nauseous, and all that fun crap. Finally, very late last night, it backed off. I didn't have to use the power drill.

The month is falling away, and I'm not even sure I've got a decent beginning to my Mars story. I still have that to get written, and Sirenia Digest #47, and something proposal-like for Penguin on the next novel. So, yeah, three stories in twenty-three days. Still feasible, but only just, especially given that I'll be in Manhattan on the 27th, and have the Brown University reading on the 24th. And two interviews. I think I'm about forty-eight hours from panic. I can't panic, of course, because then I'll squander what time I have left. It all has to get done, period.

At least I have managed to get The Ammonite Violin & Others to subpress. Oh, and I have an announcement. The cover art and end papers will be done by Richard A. Kirk, the first time we've gotten to work together since he did the illustration for "Salammbô Redux" for the 3rd edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder.

And speaking of Manhattan on the 27th, I've just gotten word that the launch party/reading/signing for Ellen Datlow's Lovecraft Unbound will be held at the Soho Gallery of Digital Art at 138 Sullivan Street on the 27th (a Tuesday) at 7 p.m., with doors open to the public at 6:30. I'll be there, along with Elizabeth Bear, Michael Cisco, and Richard Bowes.

This is one of those days I just want the world to end. Sorry, but it needed to be said.
greygirlbeast: (Pagan1)
I slept about ten hours, which is really nothing short of amazing. All day yesterday was spent getting Sirenia Digest #32 out, six or seven hours work after four and a half hours sleep the night before. I will say that I think this issue of the Digest is one of the very best I've done, in terms of content and appearance. My grateful thanks to Sonya, Geoffrey, Vince, Rick, Gordon, and Spooky for making it work. Yesterday, somehow, I managed to proof and edit "Derma Sutra (1891)" (which I really am pleased with, by the way; I think I found a new flavour of me with it), proof Geoffrey's very excellent interview with Richard A. Kirk, and deal with the layout, in a state of consciousness that can best be described as zombiefied. There were a couple of lines from the interview with Rick I wanted to post here, because I just found it brilliant:

Our perception of the universe is like a tiny house floating on an endless sea. We sit inside this thing we have constructed, completely unaware of what lies outside, hoping that whatever is out there never gets curious enough to poke its nose under the door.

And if you'd like to get #32, subscribe sometime in the next week, and you'll get it.

And today is Lughnasadh. Spooky and I had planned to do a ritual out at Beavertail, but I think we're both still pretty exhausted from yesterday's Big Push, so we're playing it by ear. We'll at least bake a loaf of something, at the very least. I so desperately want to find a coven, and one reason is so that we do not have to be solely responsible for the details of ceremony on every sabbat and esabat. But, that brings me back around to either facing the not insignificant problem of finding a group that is comfortable with my unorthodox views (and vice versa) or trying to found my own coven built upon those views (Panthalassa, diminished emphasis on gender polarity, inclusion of a Divine Androgyne aspect as part of the "tripartite" Goddess, a move away from anthropomorphic deities, removal of the distinction between left- and right-hand paths, and so forth).

Anyway, when the work was finally done yesterday, I lay down on the chaise with Dr. Muñoz to try to read a few more pages of Fraser's Triassic book while Spooky fixed dinner (a stirfry of green beans, red bell pepper, zucchini, fresh basil, and ground chicken), but I dozed almost immediately. Spooky woke me for dinner. Later, but not too late, there was a really excellent bit of rp in the "Kingdom of Sand" sim (thank you Badra, Lina, Hela, and Sev), that pretty much exemplified what it is I've come to SL looking for and which sort of renewed my faith in the inherent potential of SL as an interactive story-telling tool, just when that faith was at an all-time low. In fact, I may clean up the transcript from the rp, add a few embellishments here and there, and post it behind a cut in this journal. It was really a splendid little series of scenes, first in the throne room of the palace in Ireem, then, later, in the Tower of Serpents (where the Magi practice). Nothing too profound. No fireworks. No sex. Just simple, good, solid rp/story telling. Anyway, about one a.m., I was falling asleep at the keyboard, and I crawled away to the front parlor and put Danny Boyle's Sunshine in the DVD player, as it has become one of my "comfort films." I dozed while it played, awakening for bits here and there. I remember waking to hear Cassie say, "Only dream I ever have...is the surface of the sun. Every time I shut my eyes, it's always the same." And finally I awoke near the end, as Capa is struggling in the bulky EVA suit to reach the payload, and, half awake, I lay there and marveled at the score and what a beautiful thing this vastly underrated film is (my next Mac will be named Icarus). Then I went to bed. And slept and slept and slept.

I should wrap this up. I've been ignoring email for two days, and I should ignore it no longer. Please have a look at the current eBay auctions (two of which end this afternoon), and please, please do pre-order a copy of the mass-market paperback edition of Daughter of Hounds. The platypus will probably thank you. I know that I shall.

Postcript (2:26 p.m.): It just occurred to me that I neglected to note in the new issue of the Digest that "Derma Sutra (1891)" was written entirely to just one song by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds —— "Lovely Creature." I did manage to work the title into the story, but wish I'd remembered to acknowledge the song in the issue itself. I kept count (thank you iPod) of how many times I listened to the song while writing the story —— 104 times in 4 days (that's about seven hours worth of the song).
greygirlbeast: (white3)
An email late last night from the South Korean translator for Beowulf, which is weird and cool and frustrating all at the same time. I have no idea how many languages the novelization will be translated into. A lot. That's a very safe bet. I cannot deny the frustration of seeing this sort of distribution going to a novelization instead of one of my actual novels. But I knew these things up front, so I can't really whine about it (not honestly, anyway). Same with the royalties I won't make off this book, no matter how well it does, because I signed a work-for-hire contract (no money but the advance). I went in knowingly, with open eyes. Anyway, the South Korean translator has a question about a bit of Old English, which I will try to answer later today.

I've spent the last two days on a piece for Sirenia Digest #23, a story called "The Madam of the Narrow Houses." As is often the case with the Digest, I asked Spooky for an idea, and we started talking about how I've really done nothing with ghosts. And so, I'm writing a piece about a woman who can only make love to ghosts. It's set in 19th-Century Boston, and I like it so far. I did 1,026 words on Monday, and then another 1,010 yesterday. I'm thinking I might be able to finish it today, tomorrow at the latest. I'm also thinking #23 is going to be a purposefully Halloweenish issue, as I didn't do that last October. My plan, during the writing of Joey Lafaye, is to spend the first week or so of each month on the Digest, then the rest of the month on the novel.

Yesterday, Richard Kirk sent me the final illustration for the 3rd edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder, the illustration for "Salammbô Redux" (a.k.a, "Little Conversations"). It's beautiful, and makes me eager to see the finished book. Oh, and the signature sheets for the book arrived on Monday, and I have to get to those soon, as well.

I've begun reading Carole G. Silver's Strange and Secret Peoples: Fairies and Victorian Consciousness, for Joey Lafaye. It's a book I should have read years ago, but I didn't know it existed.

Monday, Spooky picked up the new Siouxsie album, Mantaray, from Criminal Records at L5P, and though she's a bigger Siouxsie fan than am I, I'm enjoying it quite a lot. Probably the most I've enjoyed one of her albums since Superstition. I'm especially fond of track 3, "Here Comes That Day," which I swear is a theme for a James Bond film. That is, if Siouxsie were ever asked to record a song for a James Bond film, this would be it. Also, today is the first day that the new Radiohead album, In Rainbows, is available for download.

Er...yeah. Caffeine, please.
greygirlbeast: (redeye)
So, yes. Today I can make the Second Big Announcement (you will recall Beowulf was the first). In the spring of 2008, Subterranean Press will release the 3rd edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder, as trade and limited hardbacks. I am more excited about this than I have been about any project in quite some while. The book will include all the stories, etc. from the Gauntlet (1999) and Meisha Merlin (2002) editions, plus a new story and a new author's introduction. All Richard Kirk's interior illustrations will be reprinted, and my great thanks to Rick for tracking down good scans these thirteen images, as he long ago sold the original artwork to collectors. There will be a new cover (artist to be announced). It is my intention that this will be, at last, the true definitive edition of the text, and all the horrid errors that somehow crept into the Meisha Merlin edition (despite my painstaking copyediting) will be excised.

That said, many will be asking what then is to become of my plans for a free electronic edition of the book? In short, those plans have been shelved, at least for the life of the subpress edition. In the meanwhile, I will be releasing a free electronic edition of The Dry Salvages instead, under a Creative Commons license. Regardless, my thanks to everyone who volunteered, months ago, to do the annotations for an e-version of Tales of Pain and Wonder.

Yesterday almost felt like a "normal" day. The Beowulf page proofs went back in the mail to HarperCollins (well, back in the UPS). I tried to write, and spent most of the day trying to write, but in the end scrapped everything I'd done. Sometimes that happens. I spoke with my lit agent about contracts, as we have contracts in the works for my next two novels with Penguin, the new edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder, and The Dinosaurs of Mars. We had a very good walk at sunset. The sky was filled with swallows, and when we reached Inman Park, Spooky spotted the slimmest silver-grey rind of the waxing moon, just visible in the western sky. Back home, I read more of Chris Beard's book on early primates. I napped and bathed. Later, we spent two or three hours in Second Life, erecting the glass and steel walls of the Palaeozoic Museum's atrium in New Babbage. I'll post some images here soon. It is going to be amazing. [livejournal.com profile] blu_muse ("Cerdwin Flanagan") dropped in while we were building, and much virtual silliness ensued. Later still, I crawled away to bed, and Spooky read me Chapter Seven of The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket, which we have long neglected (bad kids). So, yes, a "normal" day. And I even got a good night's sleep.

Spooky just returned from the p.o., and the platypus is chomping at the bit. So I will wrap this up. Oh, my thanks to everyone who bid and bought in the latest round of eBay auctions. Okay. Onward, platypus.

Postscript (3:50 p.m.): Spooky's trying to get back into the eBay habit, as the boxes of my books are beginning to take over the house (and the money's always nice). She had relisted The Five of Cups (trade hardcover, PC), along with one of my last five copies of From Weird and Distant Shores (trade hardcover, PC) and a copy of Daughter of Hounds. Regarding the latter, I have only a very few of these to sell, so there is no "buy it now" feature. All books can be signed and personalised at the buyer's request. Just click here for auctions! Thanks.

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Caitlín R. Kiernan

February 2012

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