"May you learn the reasons why. May you live until you die."
Much cooler weather today, after that storm front. Mostly sunny, but our high was only 71˚F. Currently, it's 67˚F. No, this is not normal.
A much more productive day today. A lot more work on the ms. for the new edition of From Weird and Distant Shores. This is one of those things I went into under the delusion it would be a day or two of worth. WRONG, Kiernan. If I really push, I'll finish the big stuff tomorrow and should be able to send it to Subterranean Press on Monday. If I really push. Shoulder to the wheel and all that rubbish. I'm not really reading the stories. The oldest are from 1993, and the youngest is from 2001, so we're talking stuff I wrote twenty to twenty-eight years ago. If I start reading these stories, I will being rewriting these stories, which would not on require time I cannot spend, it would be disingenuous. The idea here is to offer readers a new edition of a book that has been out of print for two decades, not a revision of that book. By the way, June 2023 will mark the thirtieth anniversary of my first fiction sale, and I count that as the beginning of my career. So, a year and a half to go.
I did some work on the cave matrix and finished one of the most recent batches (from those nine bags that arrived on the 21st). It was a pretty barren batch. One tiny snake vertebrae, a couple of fragments of bat jaws, a few other bone fragments.
At 7 a.m. this morning, trying to wake up enough to work, I did a grim bit of math. As of today, Kathryn and I have been back in Birmingham 1,078 days (that includes today). And 441 of those days, a full 40.9% of those 1,078 days, fall after my COVID-19 self-isolation began on March 15th, 2020. During that time, as you know if you follow this blog, I have hardly left the house. On more than one occasion, I have gone over a month at a time without stepping out the door. Yes, I likely am an extreme case. But Kathryn and both got our second injections of the Pfizer vaccine on April 24th, and I'm no longer afraid of going out. There's no longer any significant danger of either of us catching the virus, even if Alabama does fall next to last when you rank US states and territories by the percentage of people fully vaccinated (only 29.2%; Rhode Island, on the other hand, is at #5, with 51.2% fully vaccinated). At this point, it's habit keeping me indoors. Sheer fucking inertia. But I am sick of it, and it's going to stop.
Oh, Kathryn says she's gonna start our eBay auctions up again this coming week, so keep an eye out for hard to find CRK books. I'll post links here, we usual.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast
1:29 p.m.
A much more productive day today. A lot more work on the ms. for the new edition of From Weird and Distant Shores. This is one of those things I went into under the delusion it would be a day or two of worth. WRONG, Kiernan. If I really push, I'll finish the big stuff tomorrow and should be able to send it to Subterranean Press on Monday. If I really push. Shoulder to the wheel and all that rubbish. I'm not really reading the stories. The oldest are from 1993, and the youngest is from 2001, so we're talking stuff I wrote twenty to twenty-eight years ago. If I start reading these stories, I will being rewriting these stories, which would not on require time I cannot spend, it would be disingenuous. The idea here is to offer readers a new edition of a book that has been out of print for two decades, not a revision of that book. By the way, June 2023 will mark the thirtieth anniversary of my first fiction sale, and I count that as the beginning of my career. So, a year and a half to go.
I did some work on the cave matrix and finished one of the most recent batches (from those nine bags that arrived on the 21st). It was a pretty barren batch. One tiny snake vertebrae, a couple of fragments of bat jaws, a few other bone fragments.
At 7 a.m. this morning, trying to wake up enough to work, I did a grim bit of math. As of today, Kathryn and I have been back in Birmingham 1,078 days (that includes today). And 441 of those days, a full 40.9% of those 1,078 days, fall after my COVID-19 self-isolation began on March 15th, 2020. During that time, as you know if you follow this blog, I have hardly left the house. On more than one occasion, I have gone over a month at a time without stepping out the door. Yes, I likely am an extreme case. But Kathryn and both got our second injections of the Pfizer vaccine on April 24th, and I'm no longer afraid of going out. There's no longer any significant danger of either of us catching the virus, even if Alabama does fall next to last when you rank US states and territories by the percentage of people fully vaccinated (only 29.2%; Rhode Island, on the other hand, is at #5, with 51.2% fully vaccinated). At this point, it's habit keeping me indoors. Sheer fucking inertia. But I am sick of it, and it's going to stop.
Oh, Kathryn says she's gonna start our eBay auctions up again this coming week, so keep an eye out for hard to find CRK books. I'll post links here, we usual.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast
1:29 p.m.