"Hetty Green, queen of supply-side bonhomie bone-drab."
Since I began posting my blog at LiveJournal, way back in April 2004, I don't believe I've gone this long without making an entry. I see that the last actual, substantial entry I made was back on April 14th. Anyway, there are reasons, which I'm neither going to detail nor belabor. I will say, simply, this month has been a Very, Very Bad Month, and physical and emotional stresses collided with writing deadlines, big badda boom. And then the shit in Boston. And this lingering chill in the air. All of it. But I've seen murmurs, whispers, and innuendo on FB, and no, I'm still here. Should that change, I promise someone will eventually - well, probably eventually - report my exit. Am I "well"? No. But I abide. I've gotten a disastrously tiny amount of work done, and I've "squandered" many nights in RP on The Secret World, doing my best to forget I'm me. Every now and again, it even works.
Oh, and I've always wanted to say this: Zeus, you can blow me.
Red Delicious isn't finished. I probably have only about 8,000 words to go. But I locked up on The End, on those final events that draw the story to a close. Regardless, I have to finish it this week. Before Friday. I'll be able to reveal the cover of the novel in just a few days.
Yesterday, we finally finished the read-through on The Drowning Girl: A Memoir that was necessary for the Centipede Press edition. I love the novel. Yeah, I actually said that about something I wrote. But, I fucking swear, I'm never reading it again. Every time I've had to read back over the novel, I see how truly it is indeed a "fictionalized autobiography," and I never need to go there again. I have looked "...longer still at what pains" me. No, I'll never be unhaunted. I'll always be coughing up that bathwater, but it's time to move on.
I have to get the next installment of Alabaster: Boxcar Tales written later this week, and the last five installments all need to be written by the end of the first week or so of May. I also have Sirenia Digest #88 to produce. As regards the latter, I have managed to write three sentences on a new vignette, "The Theatre of the Big Puppet." Wanna be me for a while?
---
On Friday, we managed to make a matinée of Oblivion. I hadn't expected to like it, but I did. It continues the long tradition of Tom Cruise, whom I do not like, starring in movies I do. In many ways, this film is reminiscent of both Steven Spielberg's Minority Report (2002) and also the SF films of the 1970s. I do recommend it, but I also wish it could have been as intelligent a film as it clearly wanted to be. It is a visually stunning film.
We've been watching the latest seasons of Nurse Jackie and Weeds. I've gotten little reading done, little reading not related to work, mostly technical paleontology stuff. For example, "Postcranial anatomy of Jeholosaurus shangyuanensis (Dinosauria, Ornithischia) from the Lower Cretaceous Yixian Formation of China" and "A new large pterosaur from the Late Cretaceous of Patagonia." Oh, I also finished Paolo Bacigaulpi's Drowned Cities; I fear his YA novels just aren't for me.
I had the first round of bleaching on my hair, pushing it towards white. Right now, it's sort of light, light blonde, and I have another visit to the salon in two weeks or so to try to get nearer white. Not there yet.
And really, that's about it. I've been wishing for warmer weather, but it hasn't yet truly arrived. At least the trees are greening.
This is Why We Fight,
Aunt Beast
Oh, and I've always wanted to say this: Zeus, you can blow me.
Red Delicious isn't finished. I probably have only about 8,000 words to go. But I locked up on The End, on those final events that draw the story to a close. Regardless, I have to finish it this week. Before Friday. I'll be able to reveal the cover of the novel in just a few days.
Yesterday, we finally finished the read-through on The Drowning Girl: A Memoir that was necessary for the Centipede Press edition. I love the novel. Yeah, I actually said that about something I wrote. But, I fucking swear, I'm never reading it again. Every time I've had to read back over the novel, I see how truly it is indeed a "fictionalized autobiography," and I never need to go there again. I have looked "...longer still at what pains" me. No, I'll never be unhaunted. I'll always be coughing up that bathwater, but it's time to move on.
I have to get the next installment of Alabaster: Boxcar Tales written later this week, and the last five installments all need to be written by the end of the first week or so of May. I also have Sirenia Digest #88 to produce. As regards the latter, I have managed to write three sentences on a new vignette, "The Theatre of the Big Puppet." Wanna be me for a while?
---
On Friday, we managed to make a matinée of Oblivion. I hadn't expected to like it, but I did. It continues the long tradition of Tom Cruise, whom I do not like, starring in movies I do. In many ways, this film is reminiscent of both Steven Spielberg's Minority Report (2002) and also the SF films of the 1970s. I do recommend it, but I also wish it could have been as intelligent a film as it clearly wanted to be. It is a visually stunning film.
We've been watching the latest seasons of Nurse Jackie and Weeds. I've gotten little reading done, little reading not related to work, mostly technical paleontology stuff. For example, "Postcranial anatomy of Jeholosaurus shangyuanensis (Dinosauria, Ornithischia) from the Lower Cretaceous Yixian Formation of China" and "A new large pterosaur from the Late Cretaceous of Patagonia." Oh, I also finished Paolo Bacigaulpi's Drowned Cities; I fear his YA novels just aren't for me.
I had the first round of bleaching on my hair, pushing it towards white. Right now, it's sort of light, light blonde, and I have another visit to the salon in two weeks or so to try to get nearer white. Not there yet.
And really, that's about it. I've been wishing for warmer weather, but it hasn't yet truly arrived. At least the trees are greening.
This is Why We Fight,
Aunt Beast