Today I would put the collective bodily pain at about an eight (NRS-11 scale).
If they say anything at all, they will say of her, "She was, at least, indiscriminate in whose hands she bit."
I should have begin work on the Rasin' Hell anti-CEM, but I haven't. I've sort of locked up. I suppose, on some level, I deserve that cover.
We have our tickets to Birmingham. We leave on the 23rd. It'll be hot there, so we'll be leaving autumn and time traveling back to summer.
This is one of those entries of short paragraphs. I really hate those. It reminds me how online publishing uses space breaks in place of paragraph breaks, and it also reminds me of how vapid and skeletal online "news" articles almost always are (CNN being my prime example).
I have been considering a loose sequel to Black Helicopters, but, truthfully, I'd need a title as perfect as that of the first book. And nothing has worked. Black Vans? I actually think of shoes. Men in Black. Um, no. So...something with a strong conspiracy-theory, fringe-element resonance. Drop "black" from the title. Suggestions welcome. Art Bell Takes a Holiday? This would be written post-Interstate Love Song, probably spring 2015.
Here's my current writing schedule (2014-2015), minus Sirenia Digest and other short-fiction obligations:
1. September/October 2014: Alabaster: The Good, the Bad, and the Bird
2. November 2014 – ?2015: Insterstate Long Song (novel)
3. Untitled Black Helicopters sequel.
And books that will be released in 2014 and 2015 include:
1. Centipede Press' edition of The Drowning Girl: A Memoir (Autumn 2014)
2. Beneath an Oil-Dark Sea: The Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan (Volume 2) (Subterranean Press, 2015)
3. Rasin' Hell: The Last
4. Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales (Centipede Press, 2015)
3. The Good, the Bad, and the Bird (Dark Horse Comics, Spring/Summer 2015)
We did see a good movie last night. At least there's that. The first ten or fifteen minutes of Brandon Cronenberg's Antiviral (2012) felt a bit too student film for me, but then it all, suddenly, clicked. The film is a fine piece of body horror, by the son of the man who redefined body horror. Antivral takes the cultural phenomenon of celebrity and simply allows it to play out to its logical conclusion. Caleb Landry Jones is quiet effective.
I'm supposed to leave the house today to buy a few new clothes, which I really haven't done since sometime in 2013, probably back before the trip to New Orleans last summer. We'll see if I can manage that.