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"There's a place I have gone..."

Sunny today, so far. Currently, it's 85˚F, with a heat index of 92˚F.

We did not go to Selma yesterday, because we were afraid it was going to rain. Maybe next week, but I'm going to have to go ahead and start the third Dancy story before then.

If you have not yet ordered a copy of the Subterranean Press edition of Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales, there are still copies available.

I do nor write "reads," and I do not write "listens." I write books. I write nouns, not verbs mistaken for nouns.

We're between checks again, and the bank account is just about as dry as the grass in Birmingham, so please have a look at the eBay auctions or Spooky's Etsy Dreaming Squid shop.


1:01 p.m. (yesterday)
Not so hot so far today. Currently, it's 87˚F, with the heat index at 91˚F.

Yesterday, I had the doctor, which always devours an entire day, somehow. Afterwards, we grabbed supermarket sushi from Greenwise, though I think it was almost midnight before I actually ate my California rolls. And then, last night, for some damn reason, I slept less than four hours.

So yeah, I will be doing a third Dancy Flammarion novella this year. The first two, you will recall, were "Dreams of a Poor Wayfaring Stranger" and "Requiem," written back in the spring, each about 10k words in length. We're probably heading down to Selma tomorrow to do some research for the new story, which does not yet have a title, but I know it has something to do with a mermaid in the Alabama River. All of this is for a yet unannounced Subterranean Press project, which I have not yet been told I can announce. But Dancy fans should be very pleased. Actually, there are two Dancy-related SubPress projects in the works, so Dancy fans should be very, very pleased.

Oh, and I read "Pickman's Model" yesterday, in observance of Lovecraft's 129th birthday.

AS I SAID YESTERDAY: Also, please have a look at the current eBay auctions. There's a copy of the ARC (advance reading copy) of The Ammonite Violin & Others (2010) that I'll be drawing a couple of ammonites it, so...that's special, right? Plus, here's a link to Spooky's Dreaming Squid Etsy shop, where she's gonna be putting up Halloween goodies of her own design.

Later Taters,

6:07 p.m. (yesterday)

"The very sun of heaven..."

Another hot day, another heat advisory. Currently, it's 90˚F, with the heat index at 95˚F.

On this day in 1890, H.P. Lovecraft was born. That makes this his 129th birthday, though he died relatively young in 1937. Raise a cup to the Old Gent today.

There's a forthcoming announcement from Borderlands Press about a little book I've done with them...only it looks like it may be sold out before it's even announced. But I'll keep you posted, regardless.

It occurs to me that the birthday of HPL is a fine day, indeed, to order your copy of the Subterranean Press edition of Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales, due out September 30th.

Also, please have a look at the current eBay auctions. There's a copy of the ARC (advance reading copy) of The Ammonite Violin & Others (2010) that I'll be drawing a couple of ammonites it, so...that's special, right? Plus, here's a link to Spooky's Dreaming Squid Etsy shop, where she's gonna be putting up Halloween goodies of her own design.

Later Cthulhutaters,

10:50 a.m. (my modest HPL shrine)
Hot yesterday, and it will be hot again today. We had a heat advisory this afternoon, into tonight. The heat index only made it to 98˚F yesterday, but we should expect worse today. Currently, it's 85˚F, but the heat index is at 90˚F.

No writing yesterday. I cleaned my office more. I finished William Faulkner's Light in August.

I might be writing another Dancy Flammarion novella, which means I'll be setting aside Interstate Love Song for a little longer, if that is, indeed, the case.

This morning, I began listening to the audiobook of Larry McMurty's Telegraph Days (2006), which is, delightfully, read by Annie Potts.

If you've not seen the new PBS/BBC series The Planets (not to be confused with the 1999 BBC/A&E series of the same name), you need to do so ASAP. It's narrated by Zachary Quinto, the visuals are breathtaking, and it uses a Muse song as its theme.

Good Second Life RP continues.

As do the eBay auctions, as does our need for the eBay auctions to be successful, so please have a look. Thank you.


5:56 p.m. (yesterday)
The NWS says we'll hit 101˚F today, but currently it's only 96˚F, with the heat index at 95˚F. We are fortunate that today the humidity is very, very low, currently a mere 29%.

No writing today.

The mail brought a package from Centipede Press, copy VIII of Wilum H. Pugmire's posthumous An Ecstasy of Fear. Nothing has made as sad as seeing that book since...well, since last Friday, since the 9th.

There's nothing else about today worthy of mention.

Please have a look at our current eBay auctions. Spooky's working hard to keep these going.


1:36 p.m.
Hot today, but the humidity is very low, so it's not bad at all. Currently, it's 93˚F, wit the heat index at 92˚F.

No writing today.

I hardly slept, because I was up half the night with my wretched stomach.

I am also grateful that I went to school before elementary schools, junior high schools, and high schools were invaded by computers. In twelve years of school, not ONE computer (unless we count pocket calculators, and we were forbidden to use those in class). Oh, and NO FUCKING CELL PHONES OR SMART PHONES OR "DEVICES."

Have I mentioned how much I hate the 21st century? Have I mentioned how using the "devices" of the 21st century to slander it is, to me, poetic?

Please, please, please – since we are mired in this century – have a look at our eBay auctions. This is one of those extended dry spells, and every book we can sell helps. Thank you.


1:31 p.m.

"Didn't I offer less than I lost?"

Day before yesterday was astoundingly hot. I think the heat index reached 108˚F. It was cooler yesterday, and cooler today, but we're looking at an actual temperature of 100˚F on Saturday. Currently, it's only 92˚F, with the heat index at 93˚F.

One of the many reasons I'm grateful that I got to go to grammar school, junior high, and high school in the 70s and earliest 80s is that (at least here in Alabama) we got more than three full months of summer vacation, late May to the start of September.

No work. I could write an entire book about how I'm not working, only I couldn't because...well...because that would, after all, be writing, which is work, and see the last sentence.

Tuesday night was a momentous bit of Second Life RP. Don't begrudge me that much. It and the heat are the only notable things of late.

Today, I read two chapters of Light in August and did some cleaning in my office.

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


9:43 a.m.
Very, very hot today, again. We have a heat advisory again, though the excessive heat warning that was forecast didn't come to pass. When I went to bed last night, at midnight, it was still 83˚F, with the heat index at 88˚F. Currently, it's 93˚F, with the heat index at 101˚F. The forecast high is 99˚F, and we may see a heat index of 110˚F. It's very quiet and still outside.

It seems increasingly unlikely I'll get any work done today.

We got out early this morning to get something for dinner before the real heat set in, something cool, some sushi from Greenwise. Then I had a peculiar breakfast of chocolate muscle milk, watermelon, a banana, and coffee.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. We're in one of those frequent lean times. Thanks.


9:27 a.m.

"Hey Capa, we're only stardust."

Brutally, marvelously hot again today. Yesterday, the heat index reached 102˚F. Currently, we have a heat advisory, and 92˚F, with a heat index of 96˚F.

Maybe I can manage some work today. I'm taking the day one minute at a time, and so far it's working out for me better than any part of yesterday did.

days like this, I look around my office, and I want to toss out more than half the junk in here. And not talking about some sort of Marie Kondo "sparking joy" bullshit. I'm talking about burning my history to the ground.

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


11:02 a.m.

"Last night, I heard your voice..."

Hot today. Currently, it's 93˚F, with the hat index at 100˚F.

I got no work done again yesterday. If there was a bright spot, it was that the latest issue of the Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology arrived. I watched an episode of American Experience, "The Big Burn." I realized partway in I'd seen it already, but I finished watching it, anyway. There was spaghetti for dinner. I had an extremely short nap. We finished Season Three of GLOW, which may be the best of the three. Okay, so that's two bright spots.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thanks. Every little bit helps.


1:07 p.m,
This day, I suspect, never had a chance.

Currently, it's 88˚F, with the heat index at 96˚F.

But at least I was surprised last night with a third season of GLOW.


11:53 a.m.

8,767 days

Another hot day here, but no heat alert today. Currently, it's 90˚F, with the heat index 99˚F.

“Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders.” ~ William Faulkner, Light in August (1932)

I accomplished nothing yesterday. Same thing today. But today is my cursed day, August 9th.

All sorts of evil shit has befallen me on August 9th. There was, for example, August 9, 1985, when a lunatic fire bombed the house I was living in at the time. Then there was August 9th, 1995, and I'm not gonna explain that one. And there were other bad August 9ths. I just don't feel like listing them all.

I was thinking this morning about the Very Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan volume from Tachyon, about how, on the whole, I'm pleased with it. I have only two regrets, really, connected to the book. The first is that it should have included (and begun with) "Onion." The second is Richard Kadrey's introduction, which often reads as if it were copied from my Wikipedia article.

Sorry. A foul day. I did at least get breakfast from Jack's this morning, biscuits and white sausage gravy, so thanks to Spooky for that bright spot.

Oh, and Spooky took signature sheets to the post office, to go back to Centipede Press. I'm pretending that passes for me working.


1:02 p.m. (today)

An August of Bricks

It's going to be hot today. They're calling for a high of 95˚F, and we have a heat advisory. Currently, the NWS says it's 81˚F, with the heat index at 84˚F, but it already feels quite a bit warmer to me.

Yesterday, I proofread "Wisteria" and attended to line edits. And talked with my agent about my next short-story collection (not counting forthcoming Dancy books and Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales), to be released by Subterranean Press in 2021.

Today, I work on the glyptosaur paper.

I'm hardly leaving the house these days, except when I can go to McWane.

As I said yesterday: Please have a look at the current eBay auctions, especially the first edition tpb copy of The Red Tree. I'm thinking of this as the Tenth Anniversary Auction, as the tenth anniversary of the book's release was two days back. I'll be doing a drawing or two in the book, and we'll toss in a couple of other extras, besides. All proceeds go to our not being broke, Spooky and I.

Oh, and cats have to eat, too.


4:30 p.m. (yesterday)
Sunny and almost hot so far today. Currently, it's 84˚F, with the heat index at 89˚F.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,360 words on "Wisteria" and found THE END of the story. It will be featured in Sirenia Digest No. 164 (September).

We saw a Mediterranean house gecko (Hemidactylus turcicus) clinging to the outside of one of the windows last night, the third we've seen since moving back to Alabama. They're an invasive species, not one of our native lizards, and they weren't here when I left in 2002.

Turns out. The Boys is actually quite good. That first episode is wobbly and uncertain of itself, but the series quickly finds its footing. So, I retract my earlier misgivings.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions, especially the first edition tpb copy of The Red Tree. I'm thinking of this as the Tenth Anniversary Auction, as the tenth anniversary of the book's release was two days back. I'll be doing a drawing or two in the book, and we'll toss in a couple of other extras, besides. All proceeds go to our not being broke, Spooky and I.


9:19 p.m. (last night)

"You live your life, you go in shadows."

Twilight here, and the cicadas are singing loud as chainsaws. It's one of my favorite sounds on earth, cicadas. Currently, it's 86˚F, with the heat index at 89˚F.

Today, I did another 1,005 words on "Wisteria."

Tonight, we're giving the new Amazon superhero thingy, The Boys, a try. It wants really badly to be The Watchmen, if The Watchmen had been a comedy. It isn't that, but it might not entirely suck. I'm loving Karl Urban, but I usually do.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions, including FIRST PRINTING copy of The Red Tree. I'm gonna find some way to make that copy special, so you're gonna want to bid.

Later Taters,

2:05 p.m.

"Fade into you. Strange you never knew."

Currently, the cicadas outside my office window say it's 73˚F.

On this day in 2009, The Red Tree was released, so that's ten very long years. If you haven't read it, I hope you will, and there's even an audiobook from Audible, if you don't mind that Sarah Crowe sounds bizarrely like Pamela Swynford De Beaufort.

Today, I read back over what I've written so far on "Wisteria," and I like it, but I wasn't able to add to the word. Better luck tomorrow.

Also, today was Selwyn's 7th Gotcha Day.

Having finally, on Friday, finished the last of Barry Gifford's Sailor and Lula novels, today I began William Faulkner's Light in August. Last I read it, I was living in Athens, Georgia. These days, I'm a little nearer Yoknapatawpha County.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. As it happens, they include a copy of the tpb of The Red Tree.

Later Taters (Feed the Tree),

7:23 p.m.
Sunny today, and then stormy, and now sunny again. Currently, it's only 80˚F, with the heat index at 83˚F.

Today is the 24th anniversary of suicide of Elizabeth Tilman Alridge (1970-1995), whose passing left a hole in me that has never been filled.

It was bad this year.

And I was ill again today, and I didn't get much of anything done.

Yeah, fun times around here.

But we have those eBay auctions, and you can look at those, if you're so inclined.


10:13 a.m.

"...so small in times such as these."

Today I accomplished pretty much nothing. It was a sick day, a not-well day.

Currently, it's 76˚F.

I did take a bath and go with Spooky to the Asian market over on the west side of I-65, so she could get green tea Pocky (ew). But that was about it.

Tonight, we watched Robert Rodriguez' Alita: Battle Angel (2019). It's a visually stunning film. Unfortunately, the screenplay is wretched, never rising above the source material. It's one of those films you watch and feel sorry for the actors, that they actually had to say those things out loud, for posterity.

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


4:54 p.m.
The window's open, and the cicadas are singing. Currently, it's 77˚F, with the heat index at 79˚F.

Today, I signed more signature sheets for the Centipede Press edition of The Haunting of Hill House. That was about all I got done, work-wise.

Tonight, really good, cheap Tex-Mex food from Greenwise in Mountain Brook, and some Second Life RP, and this week's episode of Archer, and now we're watching Breaking Bad. Last night, we saw the Orange is the New Black series finalé, which was excellent and almost had me in tears.

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


5:01 p.m.

Howard Hughes and the Knobby Lizard

So...currently, it's 75˚F.

Today was a McWane day, and I sorely needed it. Just me and Alfred the tylosaur. I pieced back of the splenial back together, now that the bone is clean and preserved with Butvar, and I did more work in the bones still in the field jacket.

And Bill Schafer says that Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales has gone to the printers. So, there's that.

Please have a look at our current eBay auctions.


3:25 p.m.

On the Dotted

Mostly cloudy here, and currently it's 89˚F, with the hat index at 92˚F.

Spooky's gone out to get me Zapp's Crawtaters and maybe cigarettes. At this point, my teeth are so far gone I cannot actually eat Crawtaters without crushing the to a powder, but at least it's a tasty powder.

Toady, I signed signature sheets for a forthcoming Subterranean Press anthology that will be reprinting "Anamorphosis."* I don't know if the book's been announced yet, so I'll hold off naming it. But it's gonna be cool.

I've been reading Lovecraft, for the first time in a while. It's good to get back to him. Today, I read "The Temple" and "The Cats of Ulthar." A couple of days ago, I read "The Strange High House in the Mist."

We're getting eBay up and running again. Please have a look at our current auctions.

Later Crawtaters,

11:16 a.m.

*First published in 1996.

"I forgot my knife."

A sunny, hottish day here. Currently, it's 86˚F, with the heat index at 87˚F.

We've been watching an awful lot of TV< because suddenly there's an awful lot of new TV to watch. We're six episodes into the last season of Orange in the New Black, for example. Unfortunately, last night we watched three episodes of the new Netflix science-fiction series Another Life, which has a whopping 7% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes, which I would hazard to say is being generous. I suppose Katee Sanckoff and fond memories of Battlestar Galactica are meant to save this sad mess, but they can't even come close to making up for the shoddy sets, the unconvincingly CGI, blandly pretty twenty-something cast, and the utter absence of good direction, good acting, or any evidence that anyone bothered with a script. You just cannot make television this bad anymore. There's too much extraordinary TV to get away with it.

I'm on my third cup of coffee, and I'm still not awake.

"Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope." ~ Oscar Wilde

Oh! I almost forgot for like the fourth time, Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales got a good write-up in Booklist:

"Kiernan (Black Helicopters, 2018) takes inspiration from the atmospheric mood and geologic timescales of the Cthulhu Mythos, creating characters enmeshed in events well outside most human experience, whether by their own intention or not. She also brings her background in paleontology to tales of scholars finding unique—even impossible—fossils, whether in a coastal cliff face or a dusty museum cabinet. Some of the stories are set in the foggy New England coast that is so intimately associated with the Mythos; there is a brief appearance by someone who may have been Sherlock Holmes; one never-before-published story goes as far afield as the Martian frontier. What Kiernan has retained from the Cthulhu Mythos is a sense of vast, geologic time, transformations, and unknowable mysteries; what she has added to it are deftly drawn characters, a pleasing prose style, and a fantastic collection of settings. This will be a satisfying collection both for fans of Kiernan’s haunted prose and for readers interested in Lovecraftian updates."

And please have a look at Spooky's first puppet auction. It ends this afternoon!

Later Taters,

10:03 a.m.

"No, it was something dumber than that."

So, apparently I didn't make an entry yesterday. I actually don't remember not making an entry yesterday, which should tell you something about the state of my mind at the moment.

Currently, it's 81˚F, with the heat index at 82˚F.

Today, I read all of Barry Gifford's Consuelo's Kiss and then we went to a 12:30 p.m. showing of Once Upon a Time...In Hollywood at the Summit. I loved it. I adored it. This is easily Tarantino's best film since at least Inglourious Basterds. Oh, and last night we finally saw Neil Marshall's Hellboy, which I thought was delightful. I was utterly wowed by the creature designs, and I think this is going to be a film that finds a following in the years to come; I am baffled at it's failure at the box office.

Oh, have I mentioned I'm RPing again? On Second Life?

Spooky's put the first of her very cool puppets up on eBay, and you should really have a look. Please. Thank you.

If I owe you an email, tomorrow, I promise.

I leave you with more Selwyn.


8:42 p.m.

The Shiny, Happy Teeth of Selwyn

A strange and stressful day. Spooky and I were up at 6 a.m., after not sleeping much, and she was out of here with Selwyn by 7 a.m. to get him to the vet. She was back and hour or so later, and we proceeded to spend the day waiting for the vet to call and worrying about him, because, you know, HE'S OUR SON.

I tried to write, but I was too stressed out. I read most all of Barry Gifford's Sultans of Africa.

And I heard the news that Rutger Hauer has died at 75. That was a shock, and I don't think I've really processed it quite yet.

Spooky retrieved Selwyn a little after 4 p.m., and he came back happy and doped up, and all our worry was for nothing.

And that was my weird and mostly wasted day. Booya.


7:22 a.m.

"Heisenberg says relax."

We were told to expect thunderstorms today, but now it seems they're unlikely. A lot of clouds, though, and a bit of a cool snap. Currently, it's only 77˚F (!!!), with the heat index at 79˚F.

Toady, I wrote 1,002 words on a new short story that I'm calling "Wisteria."

And this morning I finished reading William Faulkner's The Unvanquished. Last night, we saw the series finale of Big Little Lies, and I cannot recommend the show strongly enough.

Mine and Spooky's grateful thanks to the folks who donated to the Selwyn's Mouth Fund. The projected costs are covered. You guys rock.


1:06 p.m.
I honestly did not mean to miss four entries. I have not missed that many consecutive days in the LJ in years. But it happened, for various reasons, and now I have to get back on the horse, as it was.

The 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing was the big event over those four days, obviously. As I said on Facebook, "My mother made my sister and I watch. I have always been grateful to Mom for this. I was only five. She was 25. My sister was only three. Mom said, 'You'll want to remember this.'" She was very right, of course. Saturday night, Spooky and I marked the anniversary by watching the CNN special on Apollo 11, which was very good. From the office window, just before bed, I watched the moon rising above the trees.

That day, we visited Mom in Leeds and did laundry.

And there's not much else worth mentioning about those missed four days. We're watching Breaking Bad again. I'm most of the way through William Faulkner's The Unvanquished (1938), which I'd never before read, but which I'm discovering is one of Faulkner's best novels. Yesterday, Jonathan Strahan delivered the final draft of The Tindalos Asset to Tor.com, so that's done, finally.

Really, I'm not sure there's anything else.

Increasingly, I hate asking readers for money, but on Wednesday, Selwyn has to go into the vet to have some very serious tartar removed from his teeth, something we should have attended to last year. We're expecting it to run about $350, assuming no teeth have to be pulled. And, of course, vet bills never come at a good time. If you'd like to help, we are accepting donations to the Selwyn's Mouth Fund via PayPal – dreamingsquid(at)gmail(dot)com. Anything's a help. If you can donate, thank you.

I have a photo of the sky, on Saturday.

Later Taters,

1:16 p.m. (Saturday)

Howard Hughes and the Big Low

Hot today, but mostly cloudy. But no rain. Currently, it's 90˚F, with the heat index at 98˚F.

After a long weekend mired in an awful fucking funk (brought on by a number of factors upon which I shall not here elaborate), largely unproductive days, today I got to be at McWane, and I feel rejuvenated again. Today, I finished with the left coronoid of Alfred the tylosaur, and I'm almost finished with the left splenial, and I spent three hours on the big jacket hold the rest of the left mandible. But the day began with me having to mix two batches of Butvar-76 (a thermoplastic, polyvinyl butyral resin used in preserving fragile fossil bone) with acetone as the solvent. I can still smell acetone. I asked Jun what we had for Butvar crystals, and he hauled out this huge container left over from Red Mountain Museum, a container purchased in 1983 (!). Back in my early twenties, I scooped Butvar from this same container. A little bit goes a long, long way. So, that was a marvelous sort of weird (and see the photo below for the lid of the ancient B-76 container). I also met the museum's consulting archeologist (there isn't one of staff, just paleontologists), and he was delightful, but I can't recall his name.

I came home and watched an episode of Mythbusters, took a very short nap, and ate tuna sandwiches for dinner.

Tomorrow, I go back to writing, but what I'll be writing, I'm not gonna tell you what that is for another day or two.

Last night, we watched Clint Eastwood's Pale Rider (1985), which I'd not seen since it was new, when I saw it twice in the theater. The new Dancy collection will be named Comes a Pale Rider (Subterranean Press, TBA) and dedicated to Eastwood, along with Sergio Leone and Ennio Morricone, in recognition of the part all three played in inspiring me to create Dancy Flammarion.

Please have a look at eBay. Thanks!


2:49 p.m.

"Walking your pet zombie turtle."

Currently, it's 81˚F, with the heat index at 85˚F. Tomorrow, the hot weather's coming back. We had a short break.

And I had a wretched weekend, which is why there were those two skipped entries. Hopefully, this week will be better.

I got nothing at all done today, except email. I went with Spooky on her errands, to Target and Whole Foods and, way down 280, almost to 119, to PetSmart. That was the high point of my day. I talked to a ferret.

But do please have a look at our eBay auctions. Please.


11:23 a.m.

It's evolution, baby.

Blah, blah, blah. Weather blah, blah, blah. The high was 93˚F, with the heat index at 99. And overcast all day.

I wasn't going to make this entry, because I'm in a foul mood, but...

Sirenia Digest #162 went out late today. It would have gone out yesterday, but I screwed up the cover somehow, and Gordon and I had to figure it out.

Also, please, please look at the eBay auctions. They help keep the lights on.

Here's one of Spooky's spooky puppet heads. Fear it if you dare.


6:42 p.m.

Science Again!

This one really should have been titled "Science Smells Like Pickles," because I spent a chunk of the day soaking fossil bones in dilute acetic acid. But anyway...

The heat continued today. I think we topped out at 92˚F, with a heat index of 102˚F. But cooler weather is coming, cooler weather and rain, spinning off Tropical Storm Barry. I am worrying for folks in Louisiana.

This isn't going to be as good an entry as last night, I can tell. I got to the museum a little before 10 a.m., then spent almost six hours doing prep on the left lower jaw of Alfred the tylosaur today, and I'm wiped out. The first three hours were manual labor, mechanical prep, getting the last bits of chalk off the coronoid and splenial (those taco bones I talked about earlier), and then there was the acid bath, which I always find stressful, as I expect the bones to just come apart in the acid. They didn't, of course, because I'm actually a better preparator than that (if I do say so myself). So, next up is the rest of the back half of the left lower jaw (the angular, surangular, prearcticular,and articular, which are still all stuck together in life position), and it's going to be a big job. That section of bone is about two feet long, and it's got about a million cracks in it. Okay, maybe only half a million. By the way, I estimate I've put in about 30-35 hours on the two taco bones so far, and they still need a good coat of Butvar for consolidation.

Now, I'm gonna go watch Archer, then, if I'm still awake, do I little Second Life.

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

Tomorrow, I put together Sirenia Digest #162 (and I owe Bill Schafer at least two emails), which will include the new story "Untitled 44," which is actually about a photograph titled "Untitled 44."

I leave you with a photo of some of the bones yet to be prepared, still in their plaster field jacket.


2:21 p.m.

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