greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

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"Put your ray gun to my head."

I'm tempted to say that the lyrics to David Bowie's "Moonage Daydream" are possibly the worst of his career. But he was, after all, only twenty-four. I'd hate people to see the shit I wrote at twenty-four.

And today is Lovecraft's 124th birthday. I feel as if I should be making the pilgrimage to his grave today. But yesterday at the Athenaeum I spoke to his bust, so I paid my respects a day early.

The last two days, actually, have been spent in the Athenaeum, proofreading the "CEM" for Rasin' Hell (aka Cherry Bomb). The good news is that the novel's quite a bit better than I'd feared, at least as good as Pink Delicious. Under the circumstances, it's a vastly better novel than it has any right to be. The bad news is that I was correct in my belief that it needed to be told in two volumes, not one. It often feels like ten pounds of cat food in a five pound bag, straining to burst free. But, it is what it is, which includes it's being the final Quinn novel, thank fuck. I have asked that the cover be changed so that "A Siobhan Quinn Novel" will read "The Final Siobhan Quinn Novel." I finished the read-through yesterday with great relief, a stone falling from about my neck.

Or a dead albatross.

Or what have you.

What else? On Saturday and Sunday, respectively, I began and completed a short piece for Sirenia Digest #103, "Black Glass, Green Glass" (titled suggested, in part, by Jacob Garbe). The idea of a noir SF story about drug addicts who snort ground meteorites occurred to me, "Black Glass, Green Glass" is either that story or it's a practice run at writing that story.

So, two very productive days.

This from my Facebook, from last night: "My best line of the day, as I was getting out of the van at the Providence Athenaeum: 'I'm a cripple with a hangover. I can't exactly hurry.' Well, it's true.

On, I think, Saturday night, we watched Paolo Sorrentino's This Must Be the Place (2011), a wonderful, beautiful film. It can be read, I just realized, as a retelling of Peter Pan, with Cheyenne as Peter and the Nazi war criminal/Cheyenne's past as Hook. I have rarely been so impressed by Sean Penn. The screenplay, by Sorrentino and Umberto Contarello, is filled with gems:

"Have you noticed how nobody works anymore and everybody does something artistic?"

~ and ~

"Why is Lady Gaga?"

And we've begun watching Criminal Minds, as the first six seasons are now up on Netflix. So far, we're enjoying it, but I hate knowing that Mandy Patinkn leaves after Season Three.

That should be it for me for now. We leave for Birmingham on Saturday, and there's far too much to do between now and then. Oh, and we bought a little webcam (which we've named HalMeow) so that we can watch the cats while we're gone. And we have a house sitter.

Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga Ooga-Chaka,
Aunt Beast
Tags: " lovecraft, "black glass, birmingham, birthdays, cats, cems, cherry bomb, criminal minds, david bowie, good movies, green glass, libraries, my damned feet, proofreading, quinn, raisin' hell, red delicious, trains

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