Caitlín R. Kiernan

The last few days, I've been thinking, What am I going to write? What am I going to say? On that day, which is this day. And looking back, I don't think there's much more, for me, to say than what I said a year ago, which is (modified):

Ten years have come and gone. And we have our memories of the horror of that day. And we have the legacy of that day, which is not only our memories of the horror of that day, and our memories of those who died.

We have war in Afghanistan. We have war in Iraq. We have the Patriot Act. We have Islamophobia. We have torture at Gitmo. We have injured and traumatized war veterans returning to a country that will not care for them. We have TSA's "guilty until proven innocent" behavior. We have new memorials, to those who were heroic, and to those who were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Everything has changed.
For in truth, it's the beginning of nothing,
And nothing has changed.
Everything has changed.
For in truth, it's the beginning of an end,
And nothing has changed.
And everything has changed. -- (David Bowie, "Sunday")

And my mind reels at the knowledge that children born that day are turning ten years old today, and they never knew the world before.

As for my personal memories of that day. I watched on CNN, unable to believe what I was seeing, terrified, crying because that was fucking New York City. It would be a week before I learned if everyone I knew in Manhattan was safe. I was living in Atlanta at the time. Kathryn was at a job interview, which was interrupted by the news. That afternoon, with fears of additional attacks and the nearness of the CDC, an obvious and especially terrifying target, we left Atlanta for Birmingham. The flashing traffic signs on the strangely deserted interstate that usually warned of accidents ahead were all reading "National State of Emergency Declared." I remember, most of all and for the first time in my life, seeing a night sky without airplanes.

(Also, you should read this post by kambriel.)

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Everyone needs to read this article, "What Teachers Really Want to Tell Parents," unless you already know how bad the schools in America are, and how much of that damage is being done by parents. When I was in elementary school, many – if not most – of my teachers had been teaching (I shit you not) for thirty or forty years. Many had taught my mother. "Today, new teachers remain in our profession an average of just 4.5 years..." And "we" wonder.

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Good work yesterday.

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Thank you to everyone who contributed to the Kickstarter for The Drowning Girl: Stills From a Movie That Never Existed. We finished with 301% of the funding we were seeking. I promise you, we'll make the best book trailer in the short and sordid history of book trailers.

In Memoriam,
Aunt Beast

Yeah, here we are eight years farther along. And I think the question that needs to be asked, on this Day of Remembrance and amid all these memorials and moments of silence, is how, after all the ensuing years of war, the men who run this country are still finding excuses to drop bombs on people in Iraq and Afghanistan? And why the American people are still finding those excuses valid?

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A chilly grey day here in Providence. It feels like late October.

Yesterday, I did a rather unsatisfying 511 words, and did not find THE END of "Shipwrecks Above." Which pretty much means I have to find it today. Yesterday was sort of a disaster, and I'm amazed I wrote as much as I did.

As we wrap up promotion of The Red Tree, I'm looking at only three additional public appearances in support of this book. They are as follows:

——Tomorrow, 9/12/09, Friendly Neighborhood Comics, 191 Mechanic Street, Bellingham, Mass. 4 to 6 p.m.

——10/24/09, Brown University Bookstore, 244 Thayer St., Providence. 7 p.m.

——10/27/09, South Street Seaport in downtown Manhattan. Still waiting on the details on this one. And it's actually not a signing for The Red Tree, but for Ellen Datlow's Lovecraft Unbound, which includes my story "Houses Under the Sea." However, I certainly will sign any copies of The Red Tree that happen to be on hand.

It is unlikely any additional dates will be added, as I'm just too busy.

Also, I'm very much hoping to sell out this first printing of The Red Tree, in the interest of writing and publishing future novels. If you've not already picked up a copy or ordered one online, please do. And repeat customers are welcome. Think of all those friends and relatives who've not yet fed the Tree.

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Day before yesterday, Spooky's laptop came back from the hospital, and last night we finally returned to WoW (after an absence of three weeks). I got my Draenei retribution paladin to Level 37, questing in the Alterac Mountains. Meanwhile, my Blood Elf warlock (Level 70) languishes in Outland. Afterwards, we watched another episode of Pushing Daises, which I'm still finding brilliant, six episodes in.

I think one thing some people failed to understand about Pushing Daises is that it's, essentially, a fairy tale for adults. And, as such, many times things do not happen because they're logical or likely or "make sense," but for no other reason than the fact that they are what needs to happen.