Ah, okay. Good damn thing I have Spooky, who may as well be my failing memory's external hard drive. But first, this:
It's not so much negativity as it is things you can't understand. I only have my own experiences that I know for sure what happened. I don't really talk about myself in the songs but there are moments that are about me. I try not to make those moments very clear so people can make it into their own story. Maybe what I'm better at describing are the scary things. Maybe that's what stands out more. ~ Neko Case
So, day before yesterday was spent packing books and cleaning the office, preparing to move two bookcases out of here and into one of our storage units in Pawtucket. There was tons and tons of dust. Sacks full. Sacks could have been filled with dust, I shouldn't wonder. Gunny sacks. And if you don't know what one of those is, here. Right now, the middle parlor is stacked with boxes of books to go to Paper Nautilus, Goodwill, and libraries. It looks like a goddamn warehouse in there. Then yesterday we loaded the bookcases into the van and hauled them to storage, one trip for each. The plan had been not only to get the bookcases moved, but also to get eBay stock in storage out of their boxes and safely onto shelves (in part, this follows from last months mold troubles), but the cold persuaded us to save the shelving work for another day, as the storage facility is only heated in theory, not so much in actuality.
We have probably doubled the open space in my office which, after five years of clutter, is a huge relief. It feels positively, wonderfully empty in here, by comparison to the way things were before. There are now only nine bookcases in this room (for a total of thirteen in the house). There's still work to do, but we're over the "hump."
Ah, I also managed in Wednesday to pull together Sirenia Digest #94, and it went out to subscribers early yesterday. I'm going to attempt to get SD 95 out this month, as well. I also have a story to finish for ellen_datlow. These are two reasons I won't be finishing Cherry Bomb until January. Oh, and the scans of Michael Zulli's artwork for the Centipede Press edition of The Drowning Girl: A Memoir has been finished:
Copyright © 2011 by Michael Zulli
Last night, we saw the extended version of Peter Jackson's The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. And I have to admit that my opinion of the film has been improved. A small screen corrects for some of the mess made by the idiotic decision to shoot the film at 48 fps. Also, as was the case with Jackson's adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, the extended cut has markedly better pacing. This is the overly long version of (the first third) of The Hobbit that Peter Jackson actually wanted us to see, 182 minutes as opposed to the theatrical release runtime of 169 minutes. The extended cut doesn't fix the fundamental aesthetic issues (48 fps and 3D gimmick shots), but it is, I think, a better film, overall. You'll likely still be left asking yourself why there are so many spotlights in Middle Earth, and, I hope, wishing Jackson had realized things that aren't broken do not need to be fixed.
Yesterday, on Facebook, I wrote: A breakfast of ramen from Japan, oranges from Morocco, and tea from Sri Lanka. It was a very cheap breakfast, all the way from places I'll never be able to afford to visit. It seemed many people misunderstood my sentiment. I certainly wasn't praising an insane global economy that wastes untold amounts of oil to bring me oranges from Africa. The irony was lost on many. Anyway, on the way back from Pawtucket yesterday, I decided I am about to write a story titled "Oranges from Africa." I do not yet know what the story is, but it will wear that title (steal the title and I'll send something awful around to rip your lungs out). I found this just now, googling the title:
from The Dominion (Wellington, New Zealand), Volume 1, Issue 227, 18 June 1908, Page 3
Now, I have to see if I can get some work done. There's a winter storm bearing down on us.
Less Booked In,