Tiddley-Pom
The last month of a very foul year. And I do not look towards 2017 with anything resembling hope. I think that I have to learn to live without hope for a while. It's sunny again today, the sky an uncomfortable shade of blue. Blue like a razor. Currently, it's 55˚F; we're having an odd little warm spell.
Yesterday, I wrote another 536 words. Let's just pretend that it's pre-2002, and all is fine. Someone asked yesterday what led to my daily average jumping from ~500 words to ~1000. I honestly do not know. It happened while I was writing Low Red Moon.
Today, at 3 p.m. (CaST) I have a meeting at the John Hay Library at Brown University to sign the paperwork that deeds thousands of pages of my papers to the Hay, finalizing the donation and establishing the Caitlín R. Kiernan Collection. All those manuscripts and letters and notebooks, plus my first Mac (Pandora), the keyboard on which I wrote The Red Tree and The Drowning Girl, Micheal Zulli's original Drowning Girl painting, and a lot of other stuff. I am grateful to the Hay, but it feels really, really weird. The archives will be accessible to researchers, once they've been curated (which might take a while).
By the way, you may now preorder Dear Sweet Filthy World from Amazon.
Last night, I was too anxious to sleep, and I was up until 3:44 a.m. (CaST) finishing Laurie Penny's Everything Belongs to the Future. The writing isn't bad, and, post-election, it's an eerily relevant book. But Penny makes an error that a lot of science fiction writers makes, and one that always ruins things for me. She mistakes the present for the future.
Okay, we have to go to Pawtucket, to the storage unit, before the meeting at Brown, so I need to get my ass moving.
TTFN,
Aunt Beast
Yesterday, I wrote another 536 words. Let's just pretend that it's pre-2002, and all is fine. Someone asked yesterday what led to my daily average jumping from ~500 words to ~1000. I honestly do not know. It happened while I was writing Low Red Moon.
Today, at 3 p.m. (CaST) I have a meeting at the John Hay Library at Brown University to sign the paperwork that deeds thousands of pages of my papers to the Hay, finalizing the donation and establishing the Caitlín R. Kiernan Collection. All those manuscripts and letters and notebooks, plus my first Mac (Pandora), the keyboard on which I wrote The Red Tree and The Drowning Girl, Micheal Zulli's original Drowning Girl painting, and a lot of other stuff. I am grateful to the Hay, but it feels really, really weird. The archives will be accessible to researchers, once they've been curated (which might take a while).
By the way, you may now preorder Dear Sweet Filthy World from Amazon.
Last night, I was too anxious to sleep, and I was up until 3:44 a.m. (CaST) finishing Laurie Penny's Everything Belongs to the Future. The writing isn't bad, and, post-election, it's an eerily relevant book. But Penny makes an error that a lot of science fiction writers makes, and one that always ruins things for me. She mistakes the present for the future.
Okay, we have to go to Pawtucket, to the storage unit, before the meeting at Brown, so I need to get my ass moving.
TTFN,
Aunt Beast