"What purpose in these deeds? Oh, Fox Confessor, please."
Cold, cold, cold. But a smudge less cold than yesterday, and the sun is out. Cold sun. Cold sky, but at least a few clouds to hide its taste for me. I have not left the house since Saturday.
I wrote nothing on Cherry Bomb. Frankly, I'm having trouble remembering what I did. There was a meeting with my Dark Horse editor (3 p.m. CaST), and that went well. But...that's it. I must have sat in this goddamn chair all day. I must have. This chair is a genius at time dilation and at instilling forgetfulness. This is my Lethe Chair.
Last night in bed, about 3:30 a.m. CaST, I read through "Our Lady of Tharsis Tholus," which I wrote last summer, but which has only appeared so far in an issue of Sirenia Digest. Bill Schafer has claimed it for the hardback chapbook that will accompany The Dinosaurs of Mars. Reading last night I realized it needs a bit of a rewrite, and its length should probably be doubled. And speaking of The Dinosaurs of Mars, last night, after seven years, lying awake sometime after 4 a.m. CaST, I conceived of, I think, the correct narrative structure. This has only taken me 7+ goddamn years. I am beginning to think my brain does its best work after 3 a.m. It takes me 14.5 hours to wake up every day.
Currently, probably the greatest frustration that I'm encountering in my day-to-day writing is that I'm finding it increasingly difficult to hide my voice behind Quinn's. And, increasingly, I don't much care whether I do or not.
One of the most utterly fucking idiotic neologism I encounter regularly online (usually in the context of MMO RP, but not always) is "facepalm," "facepalming," "facepalmed," and all other permutations. It seems to have first appeared about 2004. Shit like this just makes me hurt. Though "om nom nom," I admit, makes me hurt more. (Thanks to Bev Vincent for finding that date).
I'm pretty much out of time, as far as this entry is concerned, unless I want to get more behind, as far as work is concerned. But I leave you with this. Consider it a hint (and not, as people on Facebook seemed to think last night, that I want you to play Guild Wars 2). Last night, Kathryn and I created two new "alts" for the game. I made Dancy Flammarion; she made Maisie Satterfield. Maisie is a hunter, and Dancy is a guardian...which seemed to make sense. Anyway, here you have excessively pretty anime versions of Dancy and Maisie. This is what they might look like if incorporated into Final Fantasy.
When Most of Them I Can Barely Keep Up With,
Aunt Beast
I wrote nothing on Cherry Bomb. Frankly, I'm having trouble remembering what I did. There was a meeting with my Dark Horse editor (3 p.m. CaST), and that went well. But...that's it. I must have sat in this goddamn chair all day. I must have. This chair is a genius at time dilation and at instilling forgetfulness. This is my Lethe Chair.
Last night in bed, about 3:30 a.m. CaST, I read through "Our Lady of Tharsis Tholus," which I wrote last summer, but which has only appeared so far in an issue of Sirenia Digest. Bill Schafer has claimed it for the hardback chapbook that will accompany The Dinosaurs of Mars. Reading last night I realized it needs a bit of a rewrite, and its length should probably be doubled. And speaking of The Dinosaurs of Mars, last night, after seven years, lying awake sometime after 4 a.m. CaST, I conceived of, I think, the correct narrative structure. This has only taken me 7+ goddamn years. I am beginning to think my brain does its best work after 3 a.m. It takes me 14.5 hours to wake up every day.
Currently, probably the greatest frustration that I'm encountering in my day-to-day writing is that I'm finding it increasingly difficult to hide my voice behind Quinn's. And, increasingly, I don't much care whether I do or not.
One of the most utterly fucking idiotic neologism I encounter regularly online (usually in the context of MMO RP, but not always) is "facepalm," "facepalming," "facepalmed," and all other permutations. It seems to have first appeared about 2004. Shit like this just makes me hurt. Though "om nom nom," I admit, makes me hurt more. (Thanks to Bev Vincent for finding that date).
I'm pretty much out of time, as far as this entry is concerned, unless I want to get more behind, as far as work is concerned. But I leave you with this. Consider it a hint (and not, as people on Facebook seemed to think last night, that I want you to play Guild Wars 2). Last night, Kathryn and I created two new "alts" for the game. I made Dancy Flammarion; she made Maisie Satterfield. Maisie is a hunter, and Dancy is a guardian...which seemed to make sense. Anyway, here you have excessively pretty anime versions of Dancy and Maisie. This is what they might look like if incorporated into Final Fantasy.
When Most of Them I Can Barely Keep Up With,
Aunt Beast