"And I was a cage, a cage to you."
Overcast and cold, 33˚F, with the windchill at 16˚F.
Today, I need to begin something for Sirenia Digest #120.
Yesterday, about 4 p.m. (3 p.m. EST), my agent called and we had a long conversation about the next novel. It's that time. It's actually long past that time. I haven't released a new novel - the Quinn books most emphatically do not count - since March 2012. The novel that should have followed The Drowning Girl has long been delayed, and I can't delay any longer. Since the summer of 2014, I'd thought that novel would be Interstate Love Song. But I'm not where I need to be to write that book. It's a Southern story, and I can't write it sitting here in Providence. So, I've finally made the decision to shelve it and, instead, go with an idea I've had since June 2013, since the long train ride down to New Orleans, Currently, I have no title, and I'm not yet ready to divulge anything about the plot. But Merrilee and I talked about it, and she's optimistic. And I'm excited. It's been a long time since I've been excited about writing a novel. I'm going to begin it in February.
I didn't sleep well last night.
I've only just seen Gary K. Wolfe's Locus review of Beneath an Oil-Dark Sea, only just last night. It made me smile.
Last night we had Progresso soup and grilled cheeses for dinner, and then watched Tom Hammock's The Last Survivors (2014). The IMDb synopsis reads, "A teenage girl fights to protect the last working well in a drought-stricken valley from a greedy water baron." Which is true. And if you only had that to go on, you'd expect a western. At it's core, that's exactly what The Last Survivors turns out to be. It just happens this drought is at the end of the world. I was also struck by obvious parallels between Hammock's film and Mad Mad: Fury Road. In some ways, The Last Survivors is the far more honest of the two films. It's certainly the more realistic, not bogged down by the over-the-top Gwar, amusement-part thrill-ride nonsense of George Miller's film. True, Hammock's film could have benefited from a stronger script, and at times the acting is a bit wobbly, which points to weak direction (this is his directorial debut), but...well, it's streaming on Netflix if you'd like to see for yourselves. I liked it. We also watched the next episode of The Expanse. I think I'm going to grow fond of this series.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast
Today, I need to begin something for Sirenia Digest #120.
Yesterday, about 4 p.m. (3 p.m. EST), my agent called and we had a long conversation about the next novel. It's that time. It's actually long past that time. I haven't released a new novel - the Quinn books most emphatically do not count - since March 2012. The novel that should have followed The Drowning Girl has long been delayed, and I can't delay any longer. Since the summer of 2014, I'd thought that novel would be Interstate Love Song. But I'm not where I need to be to write that book. It's a Southern story, and I can't write it sitting here in Providence. So, I've finally made the decision to shelve it and, instead, go with an idea I've had since June 2013, since the long train ride down to New Orleans, Currently, I have no title, and I'm not yet ready to divulge anything about the plot. But Merrilee and I talked about it, and she's optimistic. And I'm excited. It's been a long time since I've been excited about writing a novel. I'm going to begin it in February.
I didn't sleep well last night.
I've only just seen Gary K. Wolfe's Locus review of Beneath an Oil-Dark Sea, only just last night. It made me smile.
Last night we had Progresso soup and grilled cheeses for dinner, and then watched Tom Hammock's The Last Survivors (2014). The IMDb synopsis reads, "A teenage girl fights to protect the last working well in a drought-stricken valley from a greedy water baron." Which is true. And if you only had that to go on, you'd expect a western. At it's core, that's exactly what The Last Survivors turns out to be. It just happens this drought is at the end of the world. I was also struck by obvious parallels between Hammock's film and Mad Mad: Fury Road. In some ways, The Last Survivors is the far more honest of the two films. It's certainly the more realistic, not bogged down by the over-the-top Gwar, amusement-part thrill-ride nonsense of George Miller's film. True, Hammock's film could have benefited from a stronger script, and at times the acting is a bit wobbly, which points to weak direction (this is his directorial debut), but...well, it's streaming on Netflix if you'd like to see for yourselves. I liked it. We also watched the next episode of The Expanse. I think I'm going to grow fond of this series.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast