"I don't wanna die without any scars. "
A windy, stormy night, a rainy overcast morning, and then, about 2 p.m., the sky cleared and the day is now sunny. Our high was 72F.
A better day today, workwise, likely because I finally slept. I only woke two or three times last night, and I think I got about eight hours. Today I did the corrections to all the story notes in Bright Dead Star (I'd forgotten about them). Then I dithered more about the introduction and had Kathryn read it aloud to me. This really never happens. True, I don't like writing introductions and afterwords, but usually I write one or I don't. And if I write one, I like it or I don't. Worse case scenario, I ask someone else to write one, like S.T. Joshi for Beneath an Oil-Drak Sea or Jeff VanderMeer for The Ammonite Violin & Others. This is just...silly. Anyway, I am keeping it in. Just a couple more tweaks to clarify a point or two. And whereever you are Sunsan Rand, you can bite me.
Writers House sent me a contract and I signed it. I had an email exchange with Nicky Crowther, which reminds me: the PS Publishing/Dimestore Indian Press trade-paperback editions of Dear Sweet Filthy World, The Dinosaur Tourist, and Vile Affections are now available for purchase (and very affordable).
The afternoon's movie was David Fincher's 1999 adaptation of Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club. This was, by the way, the very first film that Kathryn and I ever saw together in a theatre. And watching it this time, I found myself windering if the parallel between Brad Pitt pouring lye on Edward Norton's hand was an intentional parallel with the scene in Dune when the Reverend Mother subject's Paul to the Gom Jabbar. There are striking similarities.
It actually looks like spring Outside. Bright and the first bursts of green in the trees. I woke this morning to chainsaws clearing fallen branches from our road.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
7:10 a.m.
A better day today, workwise, likely because I finally slept. I only woke two or three times last night, and I think I got about eight hours. Today I did the corrections to all the story notes in Bright Dead Star (I'd forgotten about them). Then I dithered more about the introduction and had Kathryn read it aloud to me. This really never happens. True, I don't like writing introductions and afterwords, but usually I write one or I don't. And if I write one, I like it or I don't. Worse case scenario, I ask someone else to write one, like S.T. Joshi for Beneath an Oil-Drak Sea or Jeff VanderMeer for The Ammonite Violin & Others. This is just...silly. Anyway, I am keeping it in. Just a couple more tweaks to clarify a point or two. And whereever you are Sunsan Rand, you can bite me.
Writers House sent me a contract and I signed it. I had an email exchange with Nicky Crowther, which reminds me: the PS Publishing/Dimestore Indian Press trade-paperback editions of Dear Sweet Filthy World, The Dinosaur Tourist, and Vile Affections are now available for purchase (and very affordable).
The afternoon's movie was David Fincher's 1999 adaptation of Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club. This was, by the way, the very first film that Kathryn and I ever saw together in a theatre. And watching it this time, I found myself windering if the parallel between Brad Pitt pouring lye on Edward Norton's hand was an intentional parallel with the scene in Dune when the Reverend Mother subject's Paul to the Gom Jabbar. There are striking similarities.
It actually looks like spring Outside. Bright and the first bursts of green in the trees. I woke this morning to chainsaws clearing fallen branches from our road.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
7:10 a.m.