Our excesssive heat warning remains in effect. Our high today was 100F, with a heat index of 111F.

Still, a better day. It helped that I realized the medicine I started taking for "the cough" was making me stupid and drowzy ( Read more... )

José is meandering about just offshore. Here, it's windy and rainy. Currently, 69˚F.

Yesterday, I spent two hours on line edits, and then I sent "Le Belle Fleur Sauvage" away to Dark Regions Press. The final word count came to 18,667 words. Also, I forgot to mention that on Monday I received my contributor's copy of the Japanese magazine Night ( Read more... )

The sun is bright today, the sky is blue. I don't want to be sitting here. I want to breathe in deeply and taste clean air. I want to smell the sea, a forest, stone, sweat, hot asphalt. The world. Anything but this dusty room. It's only 48˚F out there, and that should be plenty enough to keep me from wanting to step out of doors, but it isn't ( Read more... )

Apparently, I currently have the 16th most popular LJ, based on user ratings (out of 434,239 active LJs ( Read more... )

If I ignore the fact that it's 59˚ out there, I can peer through the window and pretend it's actually late April.

Yesterday, I wrote another 1,215 words on "A Mountain Walked." The post brought my comp copy of The Mammoth Book of Steampunk: 30 Extraordinary Tales (Running Press), which reprints "The Steam Dancer (1896)." This marks the third ( Read more... )

I like art that at first makes you mad. Good art provokes and inspires, baffles and even shocks us. Sometimes with its beauty, sometimes with its amazing ugliness. ~ John Waters

Why is this not perfectly fucking obvious? Why do people have to be told these things by artists? Why is the self-evident evidently so hard to see ( Read more... )

See, it's not insomnia when you just stay up too late reading. No. It's not. That's called stupid. And so now I'm not awake, and I'm having to augment my sugar-free Red Bull by listening to Hubero going on about Sméagol freaking him out with carrot cards and a squeegee board. Funny cats are no fit substitute for sleep ( Read more... )

Chilly. Sort of sunny. Sort of cloudy. We're being promised low sixties in the days to come, and I sit impatiently with fingers crossed. Toes. Fingers and toes crossed. All the toes that I can manage to cross. My toes used to be much more nimble ( Read more... )

A nippy morning here in Providence (though it's almost a nippy afternoon). 62F at the moment. We're thinking we have to do our tour of the autumn leaves this weekend or we're going to miss out on the peak altogether. Before I forget, congratulations to Peter for being awarded the World Fantasy Lifetime Achievement Award. Booya ( Read more... )

The weather seems to have turned cool again. It was warm enough yesterday in the House that we had to crank up Dr. Muñoz for the first time in weeks.

Almost all of yesterday was spent working on the interview for Weird Tales. How is that possible? Because I have an almost ironclad rule about live interviews, which is simply that I almost never ( Read more... )