I'm watching it, and it's watching me. And it reminds me of the peculiar thing I saw in the sky over Woodstock. If I'd have had one of the cameras with me at that moment, I might be able to put that unsettling mystery to rest. If Kathryn had been with me, I'd have corroboration. When you are someone like me, who does not believe – even for an instant – that Earth is being visited by aliens from other planets, dimensions, or temporal whatchamacallits, it makes seeing swift grey things in the sky all the more disturbing. But I didn't have the camera, and I'm not going to resort to crackpottery to all allay my discomfort with the unknown. But don't you think, Mr. W.C. Sky, don't you think that don't mean I ain't keeping my eye on you.
Kathryn is standing here talking about when a check that's been lying on my desk should be deposited, and she's distracting me. Ah, now she's gone.
I owe subscribers Sirenia Digest Number Next, which is also known as Sirenia Digest #107. It should have been out a week or two back, but fell prey to the general – and specific – chaos surrounding the final Alabaster scripts.
I still have to finish proofreading the galley pages of Beneath and Oil-Dark Sea: The Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan (Volume Two), which should have been done at least a month ago, as well as the galleys for the PS Publishing edition of A is for Alien.
I should post more photographs from Woodstock. Maybe I'll go through them today, find a few I like, edit them, upload them, subject you all to the 21st Century equivalent of home movies.* Anyone member those? Oh, Super 8, where have you gone?
*Actually, sharing photos via LJ is more like the 21st Century equivalent of a vacation slideshow.