"Abraham’s daughter raised her bow." 3
This morning, reading back over LJ entries from this day in years past, following links, links from links, I came across this headline: "Can We Save the Tastiest Fish in the Sea?". Now, this is actually on Discovery News, a more or less respectable source for science news (March 4, 2010). Just seeing the headline - "Can We Save the Tastiest Fish in the Sea?" - my reaction was something like, "Yeah, because that fucking matters, worries about saving what tastes good to humans while the world's fish populations and marine ecosystems collapse, while an essentially fishless ocean by 2050 has become a very real possibility...let's worry about the tastiest fish." Which, by the by, turns out (no surprise) to be Bluefin tuna. The article is actually a short piece on declining tuna stocks, Japan's role in pushing the bluefin towards extinction, and efforts employing the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITE, drafted in 1963) treaty to try to ban commercial fishing of the species internationally, at least until we see if bluefin populations can recover. Two years later, key nations - those who profit the most from tuna fishing - continue to block legislation to protect the fish, while stocks plummet perilously. And so it goes.
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Yesterday I felt like one of those directors who's always rewriting the script on the set, while actors and cameramen and whatnot sit around twiddling their thumbs. I have so rewritten Alabaster: Wolves #5 that it's beginning to look like the original script only in its broad strokes. No one asked me to do this. My editor requested fairly minor changes. But, suddenly, a couple of weeks back, I decided that I could do a lot better. And that's what I'm trying to do. At the very last fucking minute, even as Steve draws #4, and Rachelle finishes coloring #3, and #2 is on the shelves, and #1 is on eBay, and...
Anyway, that's what I did yesterday. Today, I need to make an end to this. Complete this second version of the script so my editor can have it on Monday. Oh, and I also proofed the inked pages for #4 yesterday. Spooky sent a mountain of corrections for The Yellow Book (FREE with the limited edition of Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart) to Subterranean Press, all to "Ex Libris," which we discovered, reading it aloud on Wednesday, was fairly riddled with mistakes.
And, also, production on the audiobook for The Drowning Girl: A Memoir is finally complete. It's thirteen hours long, and I'm having to listen through the whole thing, so that I can sign off on it before release. It's great be given genuine creative control on projects. Final say, et al. But I've only made it through about an hour and a half, so far. And I'm listening to it out of order. But, I have to tell you, hearing 7/7/7, I almost cried. Spooky, too. It's that good. I chose a very good reader.
Only eight days remaining until -08. Holy fucking fuck.
Last night, Spooky and I began reading The Return of the King. Poor Pippin has no idea what he's gotten himself into. I also spent about an hour and a half yesterday on a virtual jigsaw puzzle (yes, I finished it).
Gonna go take the blue pill now. I think, ironically, we call it Red Bull.
Superannuated,
Aunt Beast
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Yesterday I felt like one of those directors who's always rewriting the script on the set, while actors and cameramen and whatnot sit around twiddling their thumbs. I have so rewritten Alabaster: Wolves #5 that it's beginning to look like the original script only in its broad strokes. No one asked me to do this. My editor requested fairly minor changes. But, suddenly, a couple of weeks back, I decided that I could do a lot better. And that's what I'm trying to do. At the very last fucking minute, even as Steve draws #4, and Rachelle finishes coloring #3, and #2 is on the shelves, and #1 is on eBay, and...
Anyway, that's what I did yesterday. Today, I need to make an end to this. Complete this second version of the script so my editor can have it on Monday. Oh, and I also proofed the inked pages for #4 yesterday. Spooky sent a mountain of corrections for The Yellow Book (FREE with the limited edition of Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart) to Subterranean Press, all to "Ex Libris," which we discovered, reading it aloud on Wednesday, was fairly riddled with mistakes.
And, also, production on the audiobook for The Drowning Girl: A Memoir is finally complete. It's thirteen hours long, and I'm having to listen through the whole thing, so that I can sign off on it before release. It's great be given genuine creative control on projects. Final say, et al. But I've only made it through about an hour and a half, so far. And I'm listening to it out of order. But, I have to tell you, hearing 7/7/7, I almost cried. Spooky, too. It's that good. I chose a very good reader.
Only eight days remaining until -08. Holy fucking fuck.
Last night, Spooky and I began reading The Return of the King. Poor Pippin has no idea what he's gotten himself into. I also spent about an hour and a half yesterday on a virtual jigsaw puzzle (yes, I finished it).
Gonna go take the blue pill now. I think, ironically, we call it Red Bull.
Superannuated,
Aunt Beast