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Wasted Day

Bad thunderstorms tonight, and heavy rain. Currently, it's 63˚F.

Today, i was supposed to visit the collection at the State Museum in Tuscaloosa, but Spooky was feeling under the weather, and the the other sort of weather went to shit, and so I'm having to reschedule. As a result, I really did nothing today. Maybe that was a sort of protest against happenstance.

Tomorrow, I have to get to work editing The Tindalos Asset, and I have signature sheets from Subterranean Press for the new edition of Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Because shit ain't free.


5:42 p.m.

Oh, look. It's bedtime.

Yesterday was better than today. It's not that today wasn't just as dull, because it was. However, the dullness had an oily sheen – and here I'm thinking of the oils of especially potent peppers – of anger, and that sorta spoiled the usual blandness one associates with the dull. But the weather was nice, at least. We didn't get any rain, and the temperature went above 80˚F.

I spent a chunk of the day checking over all the copyedits to "La Belle Fleur Sauvage," scribbling STET every few seconds (or so it seemed). And, likely, that accounted for a goodly chunk of the oily, angry sheen that stained the day. And it's why I really got nothing else but the copyedits done. On a related note, this is something I posted to Facebook yesterday, because I knew today was coming:

Of all the hideous indignities visited upon me as a writer in the last decade or so – and it's a long list – being expected to use "track changes" in MS Word to address copy-editors' (who no longer even know proper CE symbols) changes is likely the worst. And I refuse to accept this one. I've been fighting it now since 2015, I think, back with Dark Horse. I will not do it. I also don't do "electronic signatures." Ever.

This morning, I printed out the file, wrote my replies to the CE in ink on paper, and now I will mail it, by USPS, back to the publisher.

Tonight, we watched John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy (1969), because I hadn't seen it in a very long time and Spooky never had, and we followed it with Adam McKay's truly brilliant Vice (2018).

Later Taters,

1:27 p.m.

...on the other hand...

It was a blessedly dull sort of Tuesday. I didn't even want the good sort of excitement today. I did a little work. I started reading Tom Wolfe's The Right Stuff, because I haven't read it since college. I went to the market with Spooky. She made spaghetti. We watched Deadliest Catch and Master of Dark Shadows. I really did enjoy the latter. My memories of Dark Shadows come from seeing the original broadcasts as a small kid, back in 1968 and 1969. I'm sure they're one reason I went the way I did.

A clear, coolish day, lots of sun. It's going to be much warmer tomorrow. Currently, it's 64˚F.

Oh, and I drew five monster doodles for eBay.


1:42 p.m.

Howard Hughes and the Day from Heck

I'm too sad and stunned to say anything worth saying about Notre Dame. Maybe later.

Today is the 15th anniversary of this LiveJournal, begun on this date in 2004. This will be entry No. 5,667, an entry for most days. If you'd told me I'd still be posting here after a decade and a half, I'd have at least hoped you were mistaken, and yet here I am.

Anyway, this was a strange, strange day, and some of it was very good, and some of it was terrible, and some of it was just fucking annoying. I've already mentioned the terrible thing, and I'll be coming back to the annoying thing in another entry (when the dust settles), so I will confine myself to the very good thing. Spooky and I drove out to my mom's in Leeds this morning to recover from her garage a fossil turtle (and associated specimens) that I collected from an outcrop of the Upper Cretaceous-aged Demopolis Chalk in Sumter County way, way back in November of 2001 and April of 2002. Then we headed back to Birmingham, and we met with Jun Ebersole at McWane at 2 p.m. Turns out, it's a turtle of special significance, at least a new species and maybe a new genus, and I'll be coauthoring a paper on it with Jun and one of his grad students, Andrew Gentry. This would have been plenty to make today wonderful, but while we were sorting through the turtle bones, we turned up a cheekbone (jugal) of a juvenile basal hadrosaur ("duck-billed dinosaur") that I hadn't even realized I'd collected! It represents a species very near to Lophorothon atopus and (possibly the same as) the recently described Eotrachodon orientalis. The holotype skull of the latter was spread out on a table at the lab and Jun walked over and held my bone up to the corresponding bone on the holotype and...there it was. So, fossil-wise, a fine, fine day, indeed. This is probably the first hadrosaur bone known from the Bluffport Marl Member of the Demopolis Chalk and one of the few dinosaurs from any part of the Demopolis. Those specimens went with me to Atlanta and then to Providence and then back to Alabama. They're some well traveled fossils.

Anyway, we were at McWane until about 4:30, then there was a stop by the UPS Store and the Piggly Wiggly and then home again.

I'd be leaving you with a cool photo Spooky took of Eotrachodon, but I just accidentally (????!!!!) deleted it from the phone, instead of mailing it to myself. First time I've ever done that (and it wasn't backed up to "the cloud.") So, you get sunset outside my office window, instead. Sorry.


7:15 p.m.

"Unauthorized cinnamon."

Windy and a little cooler today. The high was only 72˚F. Tomorrow will be warmer again.

I spent most of the day finishing Larry McMurtry's Folly and Glory. Tomorrow, I have editing to do.

We drove over to the botanical gardens today, but there was a godawful crowd. We couldn't even find a place to park. We gave up and came back home. We'll try again tomorrow.

Tonight, we watched the season premiere of Game of Thrones. Wow.


5:16 p.m.

"Hola. I'm Earl."

Cloudy today. Stormy weather tonight. We have a tornado watch until 3 a.m. Currently, it's 75˚F.

I spent the day reading about glyptosaurine lizards and Eocene paleoclimatology. Tonight, we watched Clint Eastwood's The Mule (2018), which was very good.

What a sad, hollow life we would lead, if we reserved our love for only the easy people.

Later Taters,

9:37 p.m.

Paleo on Friday

Today was a very, very good day. Even though I woke too early, about 7:20 a.m., and got up at 8. It was mostly sunny, but the clouds arrived not too long after I sat down at the desk. I think the high today was about 77˚F. Currently, it's 68˚F.

I got to the McWane Science Center at 1 p.m., and I spent the day looking at specimens and talking about research projects with Jun Ebersole, McWane's Director of Collections. It would be a profound understatement to say the day was overwhelming. But it was overwhelming in the best way possible. We talked for hours on subjects ranging from Pleistocene ground sloths to Eocene lizards, mosasaurs to sharks, and I left with a much better idea of the current state of Alabama vertebrate paleontology. If I weren't so tired, I'd say more.

I made it home a little before 5 p.m.

I sat down thinking I'd write a much more substantial entry than this. I'm going to blame the newest episode of RuPaul's Drag Race, which I just watched, for robbing me of the requisite energy. And the fact that all I've had to eat today was a bowl of ramen and some peanut butter.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thanks.


12:50 p.m.

Howard Hughes and the Chickapig

Another very fine spring day, this one a little less summery than yesterday. The temperature went past 80˚F again. Currently, it's 76˚F and the office window is still open.

Really not much to say about today. I mostly spent it reading paleo' papers (and feeling overwhelmed), and there was a trip to Target with Spooky, and I had email with Jonathan Strahan and Chris Morey...and that was about it. Tomorrow I'm visiting the McWane Science Center here in Birmingham for the first time since Spring 2002, way back before the move to Atlanta and then to Providence. A whole lotta water under the bridge, as they are wont to say.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thanks.

Later Taters,

2:07 p.m.
We went at least to 83˚F today, before the heat index. It was marvelous. The world is warm and thoroughly green. Currently, it's 67˚F, and my office window is open.

The day didn't go at all as I'd planned, but it might have gone worse. I sold a couple of stories. I mailed a contract. I got encouraging feedback from my editor at Tor. I read more papers on Globidens. I started Larry McMurtry's Folly and Glory. I played GW2. Could have been a lot worse.

I went with Spooky to Publix. We had tuna fish sandwiches for dinner. Oh, and hot cookies later on.


2:37 p.m.
A heavy rain about the time I got up this morning, maybe about 8:30 a.m. What they call a frog strangler. But then the sun came out and it was a fine spring day. And tomorrow we're supposed to exceed 80˚F. Currently, it's 64˚F.

Today, a whole bunch of email, both writing- and paleontology-related. My plan is to spend most of what's left of April doing paleo', going back to the writing the last week of April. Of course, the truth is I'll wind up doing all sorts of editing and who knows what all that's writing work, because that's the way it always goes. Still, I'll be at the McWane Center here in Birmingham on Friday and at the State Museum in Tuscaloosa next Thursday.

Early this afternoon, I finished reading Larry McMurtry's By Sorrow's River (2003), and then I read a new mosasaur paper (2019), "Insights into the anatomy and functional morphology of durophagous mosasaurines (Squamata; Mosasauridae) from a new species of Globidens from Morocco," and then there was a trip to Southside, to Alabama Art Supply. And tonight we got the two-hour season premier of Deadliest Catch.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thank you.

Later Taters,

1:31 p.m.
A cloudy, somewhat rainy day, but very warm. Currently, it's 71˚F.

Today, I finally found a title for the new story, and it became "Which Describes a Looking-Glass and the Broken Fragments." I read through it again, did more line edits. I pulled Sirenia Digest 158 together, and, a week late, it went to subscribers this afternoon. I will say that I was less dissatisfied with the story this morning than was yesterday, right after I'd finished with it. It's sort of "The Colour Out of Space" by way of Angela Carter, or something of the sort. And there was email with Subterranean Press, and I had to get some contracts in the mail to Borderlands Press. So, I went with Spooky to the post office, and then to Office Depot for new laser printer cartridges (the typewriter ribbons of a fallen age), and then we stopped by Wal-Mart in Irondale.

Now, there's no such thing as a pleasant Walmart. Of that I am relatively sure. But I have visited a number of the places over the past thirty or so years, and never have I been in one which left me feeling as if I need to bathe. But the one in Irondale left me feeling that way. It doesn't help that it's situated approximately where J.J. Newberry's department store was once located in Eastwood Mall. Newberry's was civilized. It had a coat-and-hat check. Alas, it's last business day was January 26, 1995 (and Eastwood Mall was, sadly, demolished in 2006). The Walmart in Leeds and out on Highway 280, they're only icky in the ways you expect a Walmart to be icky, and I will restrict myself to them in the future, when I cannot avoid visiting such places.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thank you.

Last night we watched Blade Runner and Blade Runner 2049 back to back, on Blu-Ray, which I'd not yet done. Wow. Just wow. Paul Sammon, I was thinking of you, man.

Two writing-related quotes, courtesy the Paris Review:

“I measure my life in pages.” ~ Hunter S. Thompson

“Well, fuck the plot! That is for precocious schoolboys. What matters is the imaginative truth.” ~ Edna O’Brien


“I always liked people who were older. Of course, every year it gets harder to find them.” ~ Fran Lebowitz

Later Taters,

5:48 p.m.
A warm spring twilight. Currently, it's 77˚F. We exceeded 80˚F today.

I wrote 2,032 words and found a provisional THE END for the still untitled story for Sirenia Digest 158 (and yeah, I know it's seven days late, at this point; blame the Tor noevlla). I'm not really happy with this one, though I've put a mountain of work into it, and Spooky seems to like it a lot. To me it feels as if it needs to be pulled apart and put together some other way round, but there simply isn't the time. By the way, in terms of word count, this was my best writing day since sometime back before we left Providence.

I've never felt much of a sense of accomplishment at having finished a story, but at least I used to generally believe I'd done the work well as it could be done.

Anyway, I'd hoped to have 158 out to subscribers by tonight, but now it looks as if it will be tomorrow night.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions.

I think that's all I have to say for now. I have this terrifying photograph Spooky took at Publix.


2:41 p.m.

"Messages from Invisible Sources."

Mostly cloudy today, but we came near to 80˚F. Currently, there's a fine thunderstorm rolling through the valley, and it's 74˚F.

Yesterday was a loss, as I'd hardly slept three hours the night before. But I got seven good hours last night. Today, I wrote 1,320 words on the story that still has no title. I mean to finish it tomorrow.

Last night, new episodes of Project Runway and RuPaul's Drag Race, though I fear I was in no shape for either one; it was shame to see Scarlet Envy go, though. Afterwards, we watched Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse for the second time. It was even more amazing that I remembered. I was in bed before midnight, which never happens.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Each book will come with a FREE one-of-a-kind monster doodle, by my own hand. Have a look.


5:09 p.m.

Howard Hughes and a Bird in the Hand

No sun to speak of today, but warm. Currently, it's 61˚F.

Not much progress on the new story today, just some proofreading and line edits. I talked with Bill Schafer about cover art, and I talked with Pete Crowther about a new edition of Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart. I drew monster doodles for eBay customers. And someone at Bustle, which is apparently "the premier digital destination for young women," wanted to know what's the scariest book I ever read. For an upcoming article, I think. So I said House of Leaves, though Ghost Story and The Haunting of Hill House are tied for close seconds.

That was my work day. I also read Larry MacMurtry and listened to Springsteen. Spooky had to go out an get a new iron, because the old one went tits up this afternoon. She's making beasties for her Etsy shop, and we cannot have wrinkled beasties. That's my job.

We're getting some books up on eBay. Please have a look.


6:58 p.m.

"...your beady little fairy eyes."

Today might have been our last sunny day until early next week, but at least the weather is to remain warm.

I wrote 1,305 words on the new story, despite another night of too little sleep. And a headache. The headache's still with me, and my stomach doesn't feel so hot, either.

Maybe I'll get more sleep tonight. Maybe the platypus will compose the lost fucking sonnets of Shakespeare while I do.

We're watching Deadwood again, getting ready for the long, long, long-awaited film, due May 31st.


10:45 p.m.
Yeah, so, at least it was warmer today, mid or high sixties, but I didn't go outside until about twilight. Still, it was warmer. Currently, it's 53˚F.

I wrote 1,057 words on an as-yet-untitled piece for Sirenia Digest 158. Spooky likes it. She read today's pages and said, "You haven't written anything like this in a long time."

There was email today with my agent and with Pete Crowther at PS Publishing. Tonight, we watched Jim Jarmusch's Stooges documentary, Gimme Danger (2016), for the second time. And now I think we're gonna watch Paterson (2016), so we'll have a Jarmusch double bill.

I'm in a news blackout. No Facebook or Twitter or any of other news source.


7:16 p.m.
Warmer today, but when I went out it did feel all that warmer. I think we went to 64˚F. Currently, it's 58˚F.

No writing today. I talked with my agent and did a little paleo' related stuff. But the wretchedness of yesterday hung on. I did at least sleep better last night.

Today I began reading Larry McMurtry's By Sorrow's River (2003).

And I have this announcement from Subterranean Press. Yes, there will be a new, and more affordable, edition of Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales. It doesn't include the art from the Centipede Press edition, but the text is essentially identical.

Later Cthul'Taters,

2:09 p.m.

Not in the Mood for Subject Lines

The line of thunderstorms moved through last night, and today was, as predicted, cold, if mostly sunny. We have a freeze warning tonight, and it is currently 42˚F, with a windchill of 38˚F. But we should make it back up at least to 63˚F tomorrow.

A very, very bad day today, and I'm sure the cold didn't help. I didn't sleep much more than the night before. I tried to write today, but only managed about 250 words or so. Just too much depression and anger and exasperation. I went with Spooky to Target, and then all the way down 280 to Petco (for litter). I had a can of Progresso soup for dinner.

Tonight, we watched Kevin Costner and Woody Harrelson in John Lee Hancock's The Highwaymen, and that was about the only thing about today that wasn't in one or another way miserable. It was quite good.


11:59 a.m.
I think we almost went to 80˚F today. So, in true Alabama spring form, tomorrow's forecast high is only 57˚F. After thunderstorms tonight.

At best, I slept only three hours last night. I still managed to write about 500 words today, but...it may all have been crap. So, yes, Sirenia Digest will be a few days late this month. It couldn't be helped, as I had to keep the momentum on The Tindalos Asset moving once I got it, but I do apologize, all the same.

“I like the paper. Writing, like every art, is a sensual art.” ~ Aharon Appelfeld

“I’m not terribly interested in storytelling, and few books appeal to me on the grounds of their subject matter. What I remember is scenes, constellations, how the characters are arranged in relation to each other.” ~ Dag Solstad

We're getting caught up on Season Fourteen on Deadliest Catch, and tonight we watched the first three episodes of the new season of Project Runway, which has gone home to Bravo and been allowed to lose the drama and be about design again. Yes, I like it. A lot. I stopped watching the show out of disgust and boredom years ago, so it's like rediscovering an old friend.

I spent much of today too ill for much of anything. I have to sleep tonight.


8:08 p.m.

Lydia, the Shmoo Part Two

Another very fine and sunny spring day. We reached the mid seventies again.

And it was a decentish day off. I had a little email this morning, and then Spooky and I ran errands – Walgreens, Target, the market (I got a new laundry hamper, whee). I played a lot of GW2, and made my twentieth toon (!), a new engineer, human, named Mandy Hansen, and leveled her to 15. I watched some really bad TV. Ate cornflakes, then a can of Progresso soup for dinner. And that was my day off.

Tomorrow, it's back to work.

Later Po'Taters,

5:57 p.m.

The Rabbit's Long Shadow

A really grand spring day today, lots of sun. I think we reached the mid 70s˚F. Currently, it's 71˚F.

Today was sort of mostly a day off, as far as writing was concerned. Instead, I did some paleontology-related stuff, including unpacking a wooden crate of specimens from the Upper Cretaceous of Alabama that had been packed since at least 2001 and also talking with David Schwimmer at Columbus College and Jun Ebersole at the McWane Center (and emailing Mary Beth Prondzinski at the State Museum in Tuscaloosa), planning upcoming research.

Later, we took a long walk at the botanical gardens. We haven't missed all the spring flowers. And we saw three lizards – two five-lined skinks (Eumeces faciatus) and a very young Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis), plus swallowtail butterflies, and honeybees, and bumblebees. The sun was so warm it was almost hot. The foot is much healed, and I can walk without much discomfort. But I've gotten woefully out of shape.

Tomorrow is another off day, and then I come back on Saturday to write something for the March Sirenia Digest (No. 158).

Oh, and Jill Roberts at Tachyon sent me word that the New York Times had done a very nice review of The Very Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan.


1:46 p.m.
I hardly slept last night, then woke this morning to the news that Wilum H. Pugmire had died. I sat here for an hour, sad and tired and confused, wondering if I was going to lose the day. Then I got Spooky up at eight and got on with the day.

Which is to say, I got up at a little before 7:30 a.m.

I spent five hours, from 9 a.m. until after 2 p.m. handling the line edits (that was three hours, right there) on The Tindalos Asset, then chasing continuity issues and some wording issues. There are still things that need to be done. There's an aeronautics problem to be solved, and there's a conversation that should be longer, and there might be one more scene I haven't written. But, even if all of that is true, the novella is still 98%+ done. So, I decided it was time to let it go for now, and I emailed it away to Jonathan Strahan in far off Perth (Australia, not Scotland or any of those other Perths). Am I happy with it? Well, I feel a little better about it than I did last night.

And I'm still waiting for the news about Wilum to really sink in. I don't think it has. He was sixty-seven.

The last time I saw him was August 2013. The last time I heard from him was November 2014, when he sent me a copy of signed copy of The New Annotated H.P. Lovecraft. He was a kind and gentle and talented man, and I spent far too little time in his company.


It was warmish and sunny today. We made it above 70˚F. I got out of the house long enough to go to Office Depot for manuscript boxes. After that, it was Klonopin and the air mattress.

Last night, we made the mistake of watching Fede Álvarez' absolutely wretched and wretchedly dull take on The Girl in the Spider's Web (2018). I'm never gonna get those two hours back. Heed my warning. Even Sylvia Hoeks, who's cast once again as a femme fatale (and she was so brilliant in Blade Runner 2049) is lifeless as an old sock. Claire Foy was trying, but...now it's all coming back to me. What a goddamn awful fucking movie.


3:17 p.m. (blue flowers for Wilum)
An overcast first half of the day, but then we got the sun back and a lot of the clouds left. But it stayed sorta cool. I'm not sure what the high was. It's currently 62˚F.

Kathryn and I finished our read-through of The Tindalos Asset (pp. 83-144). Tomorrow, I have to spend the day with all the line edits, plus minor continuity issues and some scenes that need to be slightly longer. Hopefully, I can do all that in a day. Today, out of the blue, my enthusiasm for this or any other fiction project vanished again, I lost all perspective, and the more Spooky read the less I was sure I hadn't fucked this whole thing up. And if I did, line editing ain't gonna help. I remember when I used to believe in my talent, when I was not perpetually plagued by self doubt and second guessing. That was up until about 2013. These last six years, I've been flying blind. Anyway, I'll do what I can do.

I pushed back the gunk in my head long enough to get dressed and go to the market with Spooky, just so i could say I left the house. Whee.

Last night, we watched David Lowery's The Old Man and the Gun (2018), a thoroughly charming film for Robert Redford to declare his last. Also, we finished Season One of The Connors, which I really liked a lot. In which we learn that Roseanne Barr was always just sucking the air out of every scene. I'm especially pleased with Lecy Goransen (Original Becky). Glad to see it's been renewed for a second, longer season.


2:56 p.m.

"I'm going down to Cowtown..."

We were expecting storms today, but go sun, mostly. I'm not even sure it rained at all. We made it into the 70s˚F, and it's 63˚F now.

I actually slept last night, mostly, a decent-ish six hours or so.

This morning, I did some line editing on The Tindalos Asset, and reprinting some sections, getting the ms. ready for Spooky and I to do a read through. Which means she reads aloud, while I listen and make notes. I have to hear the prose to know if it's really any good. We made it to page 82 (out of 144 pp.).

Later Craw Taters,

1:11 p.m.
Another gorgeous, sunny spring day. We made it to 77˚F, I think.

After another night of too little sleep, I got up at 7:30 a.m., and by 10:30 I was writing. By 1:30 p.m., I'd done 1,051 words and found THE END of The Tindalos Asset. Finally. I began work on The Tindalos Asset on June 13th, 2017, almost two years ago. I have no idea why this one took me so long. It will be published by Tor.com, the third book in the trilogy that began with Black Helicopters and Agents of Dreamland. It is a very loose sequel to both. I'm guessing it will be out sometime in 2020. There's still a lot of editing to be done.

The "final" word count on the ms. is 41,928, and that will easily go to 42k or even 43k after editing. Unless I cut something big. It's a considerably longer novella than either of its predecessors. For comparison, Agents of Dreamland came in at only 23,186 words and the expanded "final cut" of Black Helicopters that Tor published came to 37,891 words. So, yeah. It's longer.

Anyway, so, today was an enormous relief. We can all breath a sigh of relief, and neither my editor, Jonathan Strahan, nor my publisher, Tor.com, has to send anyone around to break my legs.

The next three or four days will be spent in some fairly intense editing, because there are some rough patches, and then I'll send it off to Jonathan.

Spooky and I went to the botanical gardens when I was done with work. I've hardly been outside since the toe injury at the end of February, which has left me in even worse shape than I was before the injury. We walked out to the koi pond (all the turtles were sunning), and by the time we made it back to the car, I was winded and my feet were screaming at me. There was a quick stop at Da Oink, and then we celebrated with a dinner of hot dogs. Oh, and Spooky made an apple pie tonight.

And we finished watching The First on Hulu. Really, if you can, see this. It's beautiful and brilliant and smart. It's was like discovering a Terrence Malick science-fiction film I hadn't known existed.

Later All You Taters,

3:03 p.m. (the Alabama State Flower)
Currently, it's 54˚F, and my office window is still open. A truly splendid spring day today. We made it at least to 75˚F, with lots and lots of sun.

And I didn't leave the house. I'd meant to, honestly. We were going to go to the botanical gardens.

But the writing comes first. Despite not getting to sleep until well after 2 a.m. and then waking from a nightmare at 7:30 a.m., I got up and worked for five hours and wrote 1,686 words on The Tindalos Asset. When I was done, about 3:30 p.m., I was too exhausted to do anything but take a Klonopin and pass out on an air mattress on the living-room floor until dinner.

Spooky made tuna fish sandwiches, and there was guacamole and spicy okra pickles.

And that was today. Oh, except I finished Larry McMurtry's The Wandering Hill and began his Folly's Glory.

Tonight, we started watching a Hulu series, The First, starring Sean Penn. It's about the first manned mission to Mars, in a way no one's ever told that story, and it has a marvelous Terrence Malick/Darren Aronofsky/Steven Soderbergh's Solaris feel to it. This is high praise coming from me.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions, and at Spooky's Etsy shop. Thank you.

And may the saints preserve what remains of the Democratic Party (and America) from fools like Alexandra "capitalism is irredeemable" Ocasio-Cortez. I just had to say that. Hopefully, you'll look at our eBay and Etsy in spite of my unpopular political views.

Later Taters,

8:09 a.m.
A beautiful, if slightly chilly, spring day. Our high was in the mid sixties, and we're supposed to see 72˚F tomorrow.

Today, I wrote 1,582 words on The Tindalos Asset.

Please have a look at the cool things Spooky has in her Etsy shop. Thanks.

Last night, I needed over-the-top violence with car crashes and ass kickings and gun fights, so we watched Chad Stahelski's John Wick (2014) and John Wick: Chapter Two (2017), and they were just exactly what I wanted, and both were fun, even if Keanu Reaves still can't act his way out of a soap bubble. Tonight, we watched Drew Goddard's Bad Times at the El Royale (2018), and, truthfully, it's a grimly beautiful, brilliant film. It ought to have done a lot better at the box office and with critics than it did.


5:48 p.m.
Sunny again today, mostly, but there's that stubborn chill in the air. Currently, it's 63˚F.

Toady was not a good day.

The aforementioned phone conference went on for an hour and a half and left me useless for anything else. If people expect me to talk on the telephone, a thing I virtually never do anymore, I need an actually telephone, with a handset and an earpiece and a mouthpiece, not these shitty little smartphone/iPhone rectangles. Anyway, afterwards, I went with Kathryn to the bank and then to Alabama Art Supply, but the latter had nothing either of us needed, and the trip only served to piss me off (for reasons I'll explain at great length some other day). And there was a stop at Piggly Wiggly.

The way I feel today, I never want to go outside again. I have my safe little world in this room.


On Facebook this morning, I wrote:

Here's what won't happen in 2020. The 46th President of the US won't be a far-leftwing progressive. The odds are likely 46 will be a white male Republican (when's the last time the GOP didn't get at least two consecutive terms? Benjamin Harrison, 1889-1893, that's when), and, barring a miracle, it's gonna be Trump again. Our choice for a Democratic candidate has to be reasonably conservative and centrist. You can scream about idealism and what's "right" and how Utopian things are in small European countries all damn day, but we know what happened in 2016 and we see the damage Trump has already done, damage we will be decades undoing (the Supreme Court, etc.). Maybe it isn't fair, but it is absolutely true.

And, immediately, a bunch of folks protested that no, no, no George Bush, Sr. had only been president on term, people who thereby missing a significant portion of the point I'd been trying to make.

Also, sorry kiddos, but there's no evidence whatsoever that Mary Anning was a dyke.


2:35 p.m.

Winter Dies Again

A nice first day of spring. Very sunny and low humidity, on 25% at about 4:00 this afternoon. We made it to 66˚F. Currently, it's 54˚F.

Today, I did 1,578 words on The Tindalos Asset, over the course of five hours. The novella's ms. stands at 128 pp. There was also more talk with SubPress today about cover layout, and there will be an announcement soon. And there was email with Writers House about scheduling a phone call for tomorrow. I can't go into specifics, but a director and a producer are involved.

Spooky went out to Whole Foods early, then came back and worked on necklaces (which you can buy in her Etsy shop, Dreaming Squid Dollworks and Sundries). She made spaghetti for dinner. Oh, I forgot to mention that, night before last, we finally saw Morgan Neville's 2018 documentary on Fred Rogers, Won't You Be My Neighbor?.

There are books up on eBay, and buying books directly from me is a good thing. I'll sign them. I'll even include, beginning today, a monster doodle with each book auctioned. That's one monster doodle per book. It's been years now since I last offered monster doodles. I used to do this frequently, and the doodles were a hit. So follow this link and bid!

Oh, and it's spring again.

Later Taters,

8:15 p.m.

Selwyn Has Another Crisis

We made it to the low sixties with lots of sun today, and tomorrow they're saying 66˚F. Currently, it's

After a trip to the p.o. (to mail in those French contracts) we made out to Mom's about 12:30 p.m. and headed back home at 4:30 p.m. It was a good day. I have clean underwear again and Mom and I spent hours talking about lots of things, but mostly family history. I made notes.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thanks. Money's a little tight right now, so every bit helps. Also, Spooky's getting new necklaces up in her Etsy shop.

Here's something I said on Twitter today, where I rarely ever say anything. I'm putting it here, because it's important:

And that whole Banksy "Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable" thing? That's bullshit. There is no "should" in art.

Oh, and I took a photo of this marvelous chicken plate at my mother's.

Later Taters,

4:06 p.m.

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April 2019


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