Yesterday was mostly spent on an interview I'd been putting off, spent talking with Marvel (good news), and making plans to finally talk with my new editor at Penguin today. I e-mailed her everything that's been written on Daughter of Hounds. I told her it could go to at least 150K words. There was some confusion over time zones. Last night, I worked on Nebari.net.
Speaking of which, Leh'agvoi (aka, setsuled) and I have at last finished with the Nebari.net "winter special" manga. Twelve pages in full colour. It should go up sometime tonight. Think of it as a winter special for early spring. Hey, we only missed it by about twelve days. Later on, I'll be posting a bunch of stuff to accompany it — conceptual artwork, storyboards, the script, etc. — you know, like the the extra goodies on a DVD. Anyway, I'll post something here when the manga goes online.
I don't generally read "genre horror" anymore. I mean, I don't actively seek it out, and I tend to be skeptical that anything new will be worth reading. If I feel like dark fiction, I usually turn to something familiar, something I've read already — Lovecraft, Blackwood, Bradbury, Jackson, Angela Carter, Ramsey Campbell, & etc.. But I keep hearing interesting things about Tom Piccirilli's A Choir of Ill Children, so I may include it in the next batch of That Which Must Be Read. We shall see.
There was quite a bit of e-mail yesterday, mostly regarding the vegetarian thing. After some of the comments to the journal back on — was it Tuesday? Anyway, after some of those comments, I'd half expected hate mail. But it was all very encouraging. So, my thanks to all who wrote and anyone who may yet write me on this subject. There was an interesting bit from Ben Garrison (mapultoid), who wrote: You may remember I posted in your journal a few weeks ago that I don't believe in justice. I don't think we will be judged, that we will pay for our deeds in this life. I have never reconciled this with my lifestyle. It bugs me constantly. Giving up food I love for something I have no certainty about is never easy. But I sleep a little better. I know I am doing a good thing. I know that I am making a smaller impact. It's a step. This echoes a lot of the feelings in back of my own decision. It's a little jab I'm taking at my own despair. I spend so much time gnawing over my certainty that humanity is circling the drain, that, before too much longer, humans will have plundered and used and wasted and taken and destroyed and hated themselves and everything else on Earth into near oblivion. And I know that my little masochistic protest against turning animals into a mass-produced means of satiating six billion people will, ultimately, make no difference whatsoever. But we can fight, if we believe we are right we must fight, even if we know it's a losing battle, simply because to do otherwise is to give oneself over to despair.
And I've spent far too much of my life courting despair.
Er...on a brighter note, I'm looking forward to Sin City. I see Ebert liked it.
Here's a photo I came across last night while neatening up the iBook. It was taken in about 1996 in a photo booth in Athens, Georgia, back when I was still a wee, young, gothedy lass. It only cost me a buck and is still one of my favorite photos anyone's ever taken of me. Back then, my hair was still red and the bags under my eyes had yet to take over my whole frelling face...