• Location: Arsinoes Chaos
• Mood: okay
• Music: Bruce Springsteen, "Born to Run"

"At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines..."

First, for those just tuning in, on Wednesday night I'll be reading at KGB Bar in Manhattan, with Michael Cisco. Be there if you can. I still don't know what I'll be reading. I usually decide on the spot. I just scared the beejeesus out of Ellen Datlow to giving her the impression I thought the reading was tomorrow night, which is what I get for answering email before 1 p.m.

Comments to this journal have essentially ceased to exist. I get far more comments to it at Facebook, which is, to me, just sad. Also, happy bullshit holiday day.

Sunny out there, which is an improvement over Saturday and yesterday, but it's chilly. Currently 58˚F here in Providence. Blegh.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,072 words on the second chapter of Cherry Bomb. Fans of the "Siobhan Quinn novels" be warned, this last book is grimmer and not so ha-ha funny (though it has its ha-ha moments).

Here's a thing. A photo me me and my sister, Angela, taken on 4 April 2004 at Alabama Bound Book Fair, Birmingham Public Library:



And another:



Yeah, I look a lot better in the first one, but the second one shows off the peculiar yellow eye shine of my blind eye so well, I had to include it. My replicant eye.

And one more thing, a baby photo of me! Yikes, right? Here:



1965 (My sister was not yet even born.)



Looking Back,
Aunt Beast