"If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall..." (9 Vicodin)
There's another two to four inches of snow on the way. But, on the other, we're supposed to see temperatures rise to 50˚F on Wednesday. Sooner or later, this stuff has to melt. Right now, it's 11˚F.
Already, the end of February. Die, winter, die.
So, Alabaster: The Good, the Bad, and the Bird has lost its artist - again. Yes, this book is cursed. Daniel Chabon (my editor) and I are in the process of replacing Joëlle Jones, who pulled out after the success of her recent Dark Horse series landed her a monthly (or another mini or something, I don't know). Briefly, it looked as if Joe Querio might be back on board. Joe was our original artist, before Joëlle. But shit happens; shit happens to us all. I'll keep you posted. I do think I'll include sketches by Joe and Joëlle in a journal entry next week, maybe on Monday. The good news, Greg Ruth has done five astounding covers, which, I believe, will outshine anything else the mini-series has to offer.
The other good news is that it looks as if my work on the screenplay will resume on Monday or Tuesday. There was a busyness-related bump, but it seems to be resolving itself.
We drove to Saugerties yesterday, a small town on the Hudson, ten miles or so east of here. Woodstock is more of a hamlet, in the parlance of the Catskills. Saugerties is much larger, but still feels very small town, and unlike many small towns, hasn't sold its soul to big-box and chain stores. We were talking about walking out to the lighthouse, but the trail was covered in snow and there was a hazard sign up. These days, I rely far too much on that fucking cane to attempt an icy, snowy half-mile walking path. The frozen Esopus Creek was an amazing thing to see, the steeples of churches rising up around the deep chasm it has carved in the native rock, the town down laid out on either side.
It was a good day, and I haven't had a lot of those lately. Last night, Spooky made an enormous dinner, and then we read and began watching the third season of House of Cards. Oh, I love you, Francis Underwood.
Here are photographs from yesterday's outing:
Before Saugerties, we stopped in at Jolly's Good Grub, a tiny local grocer specializing in English and Irish groceries.
Just east of Woodstock, view to the northwest, towards Overlook Mountain.
Here in Woodstock, a wonderful old schoolhouse that's still in use. In 1839, Birmingham, Alabama would be incorporated for another 32 years.
Offered without comment.
You want to understand wide carnivorous skies and the vertigo and terror they inspire? This church spire knows all about it. Just ask.
In Saugerties.
Also in Saugerties, the Church of Meat. I'll worship here anytime.
Back in the cabin, Hubero thinks about cooking. He seriously seems to believe that the stove is a bed.
Late yesterday afternoon, I spotted these two deer, a doe and her fawn, maybe fifty feet from my desk. It's going to be hell returning to Providence.
All photographs Copyright © 2015 by Caitlín R. Kiernan and Kathryn A. Pollnac
TTFN,
Aunt Beast
Already, the end of February. Die, winter, die.
So, Alabaster: The Good, the Bad, and the Bird has lost its artist - again. Yes, this book is cursed. Daniel Chabon (my editor) and I are in the process of replacing Joëlle Jones, who pulled out after the success of her recent Dark Horse series landed her a monthly (or another mini or something, I don't know). Briefly, it looked as if Joe Querio might be back on board. Joe was our original artist, before Joëlle. But shit happens; shit happens to us all. I'll keep you posted. I do think I'll include sketches by Joe and Joëlle in a journal entry next week, maybe on Monday. The good news, Greg Ruth has done five astounding covers, which, I believe, will outshine anything else the mini-series has to offer.
The other good news is that it looks as if my work on the screenplay will resume on Monday or Tuesday. There was a busyness-related bump, but it seems to be resolving itself.
We drove to Saugerties yesterday, a small town on the Hudson, ten miles or so east of here. Woodstock is more of a hamlet, in the parlance of the Catskills. Saugerties is much larger, but still feels very small town, and unlike many small towns, hasn't sold its soul to big-box and chain stores. We were talking about walking out to the lighthouse, but the trail was covered in snow and there was a hazard sign up. These days, I rely far too much on that fucking cane to attempt an icy, snowy half-mile walking path. The frozen Esopus Creek was an amazing thing to see, the steeples of churches rising up around the deep chasm it has carved in the native rock, the town down laid out on either side.
It was a good day, and I haven't had a lot of those lately. Last night, Spooky made an enormous dinner, and then we read and began watching the third season of House of Cards. Oh, I love you, Francis Underwood.
Here are photographs from yesterday's outing:
Before Saugerties, we stopped in at Jolly's Good Grub, a tiny local grocer specializing in English and Irish groceries.
Just east of Woodstock, view to the northwest, towards Overlook Mountain.
Here in Woodstock, a wonderful old schoolhouse that's still in use. In 1839, Birmingham, Alabama would be incorporated for another 32 years.
Offered without comment.
You want to understand wide carnivorous skies and the vertigo and terror they inspire? This church spire knows all about it. Just ask.
In Saugerties.
Also in Saugerties, the Church of Meat. I'll worship here anytime.
Back in the cabin, Hubero thinks about cooking. He seriously seems to believe that the stove is a bed.
Late yesterday afternoon, I spotted these two deer, a doe and her fawn, maybe fifty feet from my desk. It's going to be hell returning to Providence.
All photographs Copyright © 2015 by Caitlín R. Kiernan and Kathryn A. Pollnac
TTFN,
Aunt Beast