The day out there is, I suppose, the sort of day one calls beautiful, sunny day. But there's the sky to be reckoned with. And it isn't warm. The sun would only have me think that it is.
Yesterday I think I finally found my way over the wall and into the plot of Cherry Bomb. I wrote 1,502 words on the first chapter.
There isn't much else to be said about yesterday, but that ought be enough.
In case I haven't mentioned it here, and you don't follow me on Facebook or Twitter, I will be reading, along with
Michael Cisco, at
KGB Bar in Manhattan on October 16th. At 7 p.m., I think. And no, I have no idea what I'll read.
Latest childish and utterly cringe-worthy internet slang: "selfies." Use this if you want to remove any doubt you're a simpering idiot.
Last night Kathryn and I watched all six episodes of Hit & Miss (~4.5 hours), a 2012 British mini-series about a transsexual contract killer who discovers she has an eleven-year-old son. Directed by Paul Abbott, it stars Chloë Sevigny, and...wow. It's brilliant. Sevigny brings a vulnerable, brutal authenticity to her role that makes the series both hard to watch and impossible to look away from. See it, if you can. It's currently streaming on Netflix.
And I have to write.
Someone Please Cut the Lights,
Aunt Beast