Howard Hughes abides.
Yesterday was a somewhat better day off than was Sunday, thanks primarily to Spooky's insistence that we actually do something. Many ideas were bandied about, but we finally decided to head up to the Phoenix and Dragon on Roswell Road, where we get most of our witchy-type supplies. It's a pretty cool place, if you manage to ignore all the fluffy New Age junk. So, that was productive and mostly enjoyable. For dinner, we wound up at the Vortex at L5P with Byron, who stuck around for Heroes. Unfortunately, this week's episode wasn't nearly as intriguing as last week's. Clearly, the show's creators have heard of science, they just don't seem to understand it very clearly. I admit, though, I did sort of enjoy watching Sylar go all Carrie White on his mother; I'm pretty sure Sylar and Hiro are the only reasons we continue to watch this series. Fortunately, there was also strawberries and vanilla ice cream, which made the mediocrity somewhat less insufferable.
We made plans to meet up with Byron later this week for a matinee of Spider Man 3, and to see 28 Weeks Later on Friday, and then he left, and about 11:30 p.m. we drove over to Videodrome and rented Antonia Bird's Ravenous (1999), because we were both in the mood for something of that sort. I'd forgotten what a really wonderful film this is, certainly one of the best pieces of cinematic dark fantasy/weird fiction of the last decade. Grand performances from Robert Carlyle, Guy Pearce, and Jeffrey Jones, and Michael Nyman and Damon Albarn's score is exquisite. Plus, it's hardly even possible to tell that it was filmed in Slovakia, nowhere near the Sierra Nevada.
So, yeah, that was yesterday.
Except, also, after I posted the lyrics to "Bouncing Off Clouds" and stated that they'd had no influence whatsoever on "The Ape's Wife," I got to thinking about the words to the song and about the short story. And there might be some points of contact after all. This verse:
Well, you can stare all day at the sky
But that won't bring her back,
That won't bring her back.
You say you're waiting on fate,
But I think fate is now.
I think fate is now
Waiting on us
I have realised that the four copies of Silk I promised to four new Sirenia Digest subscribers way back in mid-March have never been mailed out. In all the writing and busyness and chaos, I simply forgot. Apologies. Anyway, if you were one of those four subscribers, please e-mail Spooky at crk(underscore)books(at)yahoo(dot)com and we'll get the books out to you. Or you can comment here. Either way.
Today it's back to work. The platypus will have no more of the downtime nonsense. Wisely, hesheit points out that the days off only make my nightmares worse. So. I have to tweak "The Ape's Wife" and send it to subpress, have a look at exactly what's being asked of me re: revisions to the child of the Forced and New Reconsolidated marches, and start thinking hard about Sirenia Digest #18. Tonight, it's back to work on the "Onion" screenplay. That will be today. You kids play nice. Tonks is watching.
We made plans to meet up with Byron later this week for a matinee of Spider Man 3, and to see 28 Weeks Later on Friday, and then he left, and about 11:30 p.m. we drove over to Videodrome and rented Antonia Bird's Ravenous (1999), because we were both in the mood for something of that sort. I'd forgotten what a really wonderful film this is, certainly one of the best pieces of cinematic dark fantasy/weird fiction of the last decade. Grand performances from Robert Carlyle, Guy Pearce, and Jeffrey Jones, and Michael Nyman and Damon Albarn's score is exquisite. Plus, it's hardly even possible to tell that it was filmed in Slovakia, nowhere near the Sierra Nevada.
So, yeah, that was yesterday.
Except, also, after I posted the lyrics to "Bouncing Off Clouds" and stated that they'd had no influence whatsoever on "The Ape's Wife," I got to thinking about the words to the song and about the short story. And there might be some points of contact after all. This verse:
Well, you can stare all day at the sky
But that won't bring her back,
That won't bring her back.
You say you're waiting on fate,
But I think fate is now.
I think fate is now
Waiting on us
I have realised that the four copies of Silk I promised to four new Sirenia Digest subscribers way back in mid-March have never been mailed out. In all the writing and busyness and chaos, I simply forgot. Apologies. Anyway, if you were one of those four subscribers, please e-mail Spooky at crk(underscore)books(at)yahoo(dot)com and we'll get the books out to you. Or you can comment here. Either way.
Today it's back to work. The platypus will have no more of the downtime nonsense. Wisely, hesheit points out that the days off only make my nightmares worse. So. I have to tweak "The Ape's Wife" and send it to subpress, have a look at exactly what's being asked of me re: revisions to the child of the Forced and New Reconsolidated marches, and start thinking hard about Sirenia Digest #18. Tonight, it's back to work on the "Onion" screenplay. That will be today. You kids play nice. Tonks is watching.