"Nothing short of fate itself has affected my decision."
On this day in 2014, I wrote, "Today is the 25th Anniversary of the World Wide Web. Which sort of makes it the 25th birthday for one stage of the apocalypse." This past election, the role that Wikileaks and Russian hackers, Julian Assange and bots, trolls and internet slander and fake news played, proved me dead on the mark. I'd hoped I was only a crank.
It's sunny and very cold. Currently, the temperature is 18˚F, with the windchill at 3˚F. We're waiting on the storm, on much more snow.
Yesterday, I typed up all the corrections for "Objects in the Mirror" and sent them away to Geralyn at Subterranean Press, and then I spent about two and a half hours on corrections to Chapter One of Interstate Love Song, but still didn't get through all the marked changes. I think it's time I set this chapter aside, stop trying to get it perfect, and proceed to Chapter Two. Except, first, I'm going to write something for Sirenia Digest #134. I can't write summer in Mississippi during a blizzard in Rhode Island, not and do it right, and I won't try.
"Were I the wind, I'd blow no more on such a wicked, miserable world." ~ Moby-Dick, Herman Melville
I really don't think that I'm a radical anything. Though I do get pretty fanatical about...well, actually not that, either.
I've begun reading Cormac McCarthy's The Crossing (1994). Lately, McCarthy is one of the few authors I have any use for. Though Herman Melville is another.
Last night, all the country went back on Caitlín Standard Time (aka Caitlín Stabilizing Time, CST), which makes everything simpler.
I promised photos yesterday, of yesterday, and here they are:
Resistance, Peace, and Compassion,
Aunt Beast
It's sunny and very cold. Currently, the temperature is 18˚F, with the windchill at 3˚F. We're waiting on the storm, on much more snow.
Yesterday, I typed up all the corrections for "Objects in the Mirror" and sent them away to Geralyn at Subterranean Press, and then I spent about two and a half hours on corrections to Chapter One of Interstate Love Song, but still didn't get through all the marked changes. I think it's time I set this chapter aside, stop trying to get it perfect, and proceed to Chapter Two. Except, first, I'm going to write something for Sirenia Digest #134. I can't write summer in Mississippi during a blizzard in Rhode Island, not and do it right, and I won't try.
"Were I the wind, I'd blow no more on such a wicked, miserable world." ~ Moby-Dick, Herman Melville
I really don't think that I'm a radical anything. Though I do get pretty fanatical about...well, actually not that, either.
I've begun reading Cormac McCarthy's The Crossing (1994). Lately, McCarthy is one of the few authors I have any use for. Though Herman Melville is another.
Last night, all the country went back on Caitlín Standard Time (aka Caitlín Stabilizing Time, CST), which makes everything simpler.
I promised photos yesterday, of yesterday, and here they are:
Resistance, Peace, and Compassion,
Aunt Beast