"Game over, man. Game over."
Hot and mostly sunny today. Our high was 91˚F, with a heat index of 95˚F.
I did my usual up at 6:30 a.m., writing by 7 a.m. thing this morning. And it's not like it was not a productive morning, technically. But...so near to the end of MP 1.3, I have hit a sort of wall. My descriptions feel tortured. There is no elegance in the language, and I feel there's a necessary precision that's lacking. This isn't art, no. But there is no room for clumsiness, none at all, and I am, truthfully, sorely out of practice. I can only hope tomorrow will go better, as today was utterly dispiriting.
It does not help that the entire world and the last twenty-one years of history are a stone about my neck. Two posts from Facebook, posts I made this morning.
Social media has become "Big Brother," not a single authoritarian entity, but billions of staring, judgmental eyes that, by their actions and affects, assume the same role.
~ and ~
I feel like the world has become something that craves chaos and discord, and all I want is calm
---
The afternoon's comfort film was James Cameron's Aliens (1986).
---
So, here's a thing I'm going to do. As I said yesterday, Living a Boy's Adventure Tale is going to be serialized in the next three issues of Sirenia Digest. And I want to give people who are not currently subscribers a crack at getting the issues, so we're going to put each one up on the Big Cartel shop a day or two after they go out to subscribers. They'll be $10 each, same as subscribers pay per issue (SD has not raised it's price since its first issue late in 2005). The three issues will come down in September, so this will be a limited offer. I'll let you know here when the first one goes up.
I think that's all I have for today. I was going to write something about how Alabama has made it all but impossible for me to vote, but fuck it.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
4:07 p.m.
I did my usual up at 6:30 a.m., writing by 7 a.m. thing this morning. And it's not like it was not a productive morning, technically. But...so near to the end of MP 1.3, I have hit a sort of wall. My descriptions feel tortured. There is no elegance in the language, and I feel there's a necessary precision that's lacking. This isn't art, no. But there is no room for clumsiness, none at all, and I am, truthfully, sorely out of practice. I can only hope tomorrow will go better, as today was utterly dispiriting.
It does not help that the entire world and the last twenty-one years of history are a stone about my neck. Two posts from Facebook, posts I made this morning.
Social media has become "Big Brother," not a single authoritarian entity, but billions of staring, judgmental eyes that, by their actions and affects, assume the same role.
~ and ~
I feel like the world has become something that craves chaos and discord, and all I want is calm
---
The afternoon's comfort film was James Cameron's Aliens (1986).
---
So, here's a thing I'm going to do. As I said yesterday, Living a Boy's Adventure Tale is going to be serialized in the next three issues of Sirenia Digest. And I want to give people who are not currently subscribers a crack at getting the issues, so we're going to put each one up on the Big Cartel shop a day or two after they go out to subscribers. They'll be $10 each, same as subscribers pay per issue (SD has not raised it's price since its first issue late in 2005). The three issues will come down in September, so this will be a limited offer. I'll let you know here when the first one goes up.
I think that's all I have for today. I was going to write something about how Alabama has made it all but impossible for me to vote, but fuck it.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
4:07 p.m.