The Frustrated Beast
A warmer day today. That was the good thing. Our high was 75F, and I actually have my window open again.
I slept sytraight through until 6 a.m., which hardly ever happens. I spent the next two hours trying to write the fourth interlude in The Night Watchers, but I had underestimated the degree to which it needed to be researched ahead of time. Without getting into spoilers, part of the book involves a number of films that many people claim to have seen, but which appear never to have been made. One of those is an SF/horror film from 1951 called The Wide Carnivorous Sky. And see, here's the problem with John Langan having taken that line from me (which I have heard he has now finally admitted to doing, in an interview somewhere). I knew that sooner or later I would need it, and here I need it. So, I will have to include an unintentionally provocative note at the end of the book explaining that my use of the phrase is not a tribute to Langan, as he got it from me. And look, it's been years now since I've even been angry about him doing it. I got over that long ago. But it is currently a hassle. Anyway, I spent a chunk of the day doing research for the fourth interlude, so that I can try to finish it tomorrow. I did manage to write about 500 words this morning, but most of them likely need to be rewritten. It was a frustrating morning.
I also spent some time on mosasaur neurocraniums, the beginning of a sort of refresher course I am inflicting upon myself to dust off my knowledge of the squamata braincase. But I could not find much momentum, after the abovementioned shortfall, and I honestly didn't get nearly as much done as I'd hoped.
But we did make a very good sale off the shop today, a copy of the "Mercury" chapbook, and I am grateful for that. Remenber, there's new stuff up at the Dreaming Squid Sundries shop. I swear to fuck, I honestly dared to believe that by the time I was 59 I would no longer be living from one measly check to the next. So, when you millennials and zoomers are bitching about how well off the boomers had it, please leave me out of the conversation.
On a related note, last night we began the final season of Billions.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:50 p.m.
I slept sytraight through until 6 a.m., which hardly ever happens. I spent the next two hours trying to write the fourth interlude in The Night Watchers, but I had underestimated the degree to which it needed to be researched ahead of time. Without getting into spoilers, part of the book involves a number of films that many people claim to have seen, but which appear never to have been made. One of those is an SF/horror film from 1951 called The Wide Carnivorous Sky. And see, here's the problem with John Langan having taken that line from me (which I have heard he has now finally admitted to doing, in an interview somewhere). I knew that sooner or later I would need it, and here I need it. So, I will have to include an unintentionally provocative note at the end of the book explaining that my use of the phrase is not a tribute to Langan, as he got it from me. And look, it's been years now since I've even been angry about him doing it. I got over that long ago. But it is currently a hassle. Anyway, I spent a chunk of the day doing research for the fourth interlude, so that I can try to finish it tomorrow. I did manage to write about 500 words this morning, but most of them likely need to be rewritten. It was a frustrating morning.
I also spent some time on mosasaur neurocraniums, the beginning of a sort of refresher course I am inflicting upon myself to dust off my knowledge of the squamata braincase. But I could not find much momentum, after the abovementioned shortfall, and I honestly didn't get nearly as much done as I'd hoped.
But we did make a very good sale off the shop today, a copy of the "Mercury" chapbook, and I am grateful for that. Remenber, there's new stuff up at the Dreaming Squid Sundries shop. I swear to fuck, I honestly dared to believe that by the time I was 59 I would no longer be living from one measly check to the next. So, when you millennials and zoomers are bitching about how well off the boomers had it, please leave me out of the conversation.
On a related note, last night we began the final season of Billions.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:50 p.m.