Today, Ray Harryhausen is 88 years old. 1920 all the way to...here. To now.
Yesterday, I did 1,349 words on Chapter Two of The Red Tree, which made it quite a decent writing day. I think I'm coming to that point where the book begins to build the momentum that will carry me to THE END. And yes, all the fears and doubts are still here with me, but the story grows louder, so they become harder to hear, harder to feel. The critics and reviewers and "reviewers" will say what they will say. My agent and editor will react as they will react, and those reactions are beyond the realm of my control. The novel will sell better or worse than Daughter of Hounds, and there's almost nothing I can do to influence which it will be. I have only one part in this affair. I create the book, and send it out into the world.
I have ideas, I think, for the two vignettes for Sirenia Digest #32 (July). I suspect I will not get to them until late next month, which gives them a good long time to steep, to brew.
In all ways, yesterday was better than the day before. It was, by and large, unremarkable, as most good writing days tend to be. I did get my contributor copies of Realms: The First Year of Clarkesworld Magazine (Nick Mamatas and Sean Wallace, eds.). A truly beautiful book, which reprints (first time in actual print) my story "The Ape's Wife" (voted best short story published by Clarkesworld in 2007, by the way), along with pieces by Holly Phillips, Elizabeth Bear, Jeff VanderMeer, Cat Rambo, Catherynne Valente, Ian Watson, and many others. You should pick up a copy. After the writing, Spooky and I hung pictures until we were too hot and sweaty to hang pictures, and we stopped and played a couple of games of Unspeakable Words. I did an hour of rp in Second Life while Spooky fixed dinner (thank you, Larissa). After dinner, we watched the mid-season "finale" of Battlestar Galactica (via Spooky's laptop), "Revelations." Wow. That was worth the wait, and the episode's ending rather knocked the breath from me. Were I the creator, I would have been sorely tempted to allow that to stand as the ending for the entire series. Later, I carried a table down into the basement, and took some photos down there. Richard Upton Pickman would adore our basement. I'll post some of the photos tomorrow, maybe. Anyway, then I did some more rp in SL. It was a night of oddly sad rp.
omegamorningsta caught onto the fact that the Nareth/Labyrinth thing is meant to parallel the Fred/Illyria dichotomy (from Angel, Season 5), and that pleased me. Though, Fred was a far, far better person than Nareth, of course. Hell, I'm not sure Nareth was ever a person of any sort, really, which changes the equation a bit. Anyway, that was yesterday.
It's hottish here in Providence. Presently 89F, though the projected high was only 87F. Without ceiling fans or air conditioning, 89F in the place feels like 95F. The theromstat says it's 80F here in the house, but it feels quite a bit warmer in my office. There should be rain this evening.
Anyway, time to make the doughnuts.
Yesterday, I did 1,349 words on Chapter Two of The Red Tree, which made it quite a decent writing day. I think I'm coming to that point where the book begins to build the momentum that will carry me to THE END. And yes, all the fears and doubts are still here with me, but the story grows louder, so they become harder to hear, harder to feel. The critics and reviewers and "reviewers" will say what they will say. My agent and editor will react as they will react, and those reactions are beyond the realm of my control. The novel will sell better or worse than Daughter of Hounds, and there's almost nothing I can do to influence which it will be. I have only one part in this affair. I create the book, and send it out into the world.
I have ideas, I think, for the two vignettes for Sirenia Digest #32 (July). I suspect I will not get to them until late next month, which gives them a good long time to steep, to brew.
In all ways, yesterday was better than the day before. It was, by and large, unremarkable, as most good writing days tend to be. I did get my contributor copies of Realms: The First Year of Clarkesworld Magazine (Nick Mamatas and Sean Wallace, eds.). A truly beautiful book, which reprints (first time in actual print) my story "The Ape's Wife" (voted best short story published by Clarkesworld in 2007, by the way), along with pieces by Holly Phillips, Elizabeth Bear, Jeff VanderMeer, Cat Rambo, Catherynne Valente, Ian Watson, and many others. You should pick up a copy. After the writing, Spooky and I hung pictures until we were too hot and sweaty to hang pictures, and we stopped and played a couple of games of Unspeakable Words. I did an hour of rp in Second Life while Spooky fixed dinner (thank you, Larissa). After dinner, we watched the mid-season "finale" of Battlestar Galactica (via Spooky's laptop), "Revelations." Wow. That was worth the wait, and the episode's ending rather knocked the breath from me. Were I the creator, I would have been sorely tempted to allow that to stand as the ending for the entire series. Later, I carried a table down into the basement, and took some photos down there. Richard Upton Pickman would adore our basement. I'll post some of the photos tomorrow, maybe. Anyway, then I did some more rp in SL. It was a night of oddly sad rp.
It's hottish here in Providence. Presently 89F, though the projected high was only 87F. Without ceiling fans or air conditioning, 89F in the place feels like 95F. The theromstat says it's 80F here in the house, but it feels quite a bit warmer in my office. There should be rain this evening.
Anyway, time to make the doughnuts.
- Location:Tithonium Chasma
- Mood:
warmish - Music:VNV Nation, "Illusion"

Comments
Good. May the story be told as it requires.
Good. May the story be told as it requires.
Sure you don't want to write it for me?
Yes. Because I wouldn't do as good a job.
Yes. Because I wouldn't do as good a job.
Pffft.
Damn right you do. Then the rest of us get to make fannish noises, when we finally have it in our hot little hands, and then tell everyone else to ohmyfuckinggodsREADTHIS.
Richard Upton Pickman would adore our basement. I'll post some of the photos tomorrow, maybe
Large, boarded sewer entrance, and all?
I think that's the part that matters most.
Large, boarded sewer entrance, and all?
I'm still looking. Maybe I need to set out some ghoul bait.
Edited at 2008-06-29 07:13 pm (UTC)
Sounds like someone's making a trip to the cemetery. ;)
Sounds like someone's making a trip to the cemetery. ;)
I had something a little fresher in mind. All these tourists have to be good for something.
All fattened up from clam cakes, and a little crispy on the outside from too much sun. Sounds like perfect ghoul bait to me.
May I suggest Fluffy Bunnies who do not know what an athame is?
May I suggest Fluffy Bunnies who do not know what an athame is?
Bloody brilliant!
I felt the same way.
I felt the same way.
Good to know I'm not the only one. That was just such a marvelous emotional climax, it's hard to imagine anything with that much impact lies ahead.
To many people need resolution.
Aside from wanting to know who the fifth is, that is.
I still hope it's Starbuck, but suspect I'm wrong.
Edited at 2008-06-30 11:22 pm (UTC)
Indeed!
I still hope it's Starbuck, but suspect I'm wrong.
Same here.
Though I am very, very glad that you are with us. I can't imagine my SL without you! :)
Mostly, people should wonder when I manage to sleep. ;-)
Though I am very, very glad that you are with us. I can't imagine my SL without you! :)
Same here. Sincerely.
Edited at 2008-06-30 03:41 pm (UTC)