greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

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"You can see I'm in no shape for driving. Anyway, I've got no place to go."

It's going to be hot today, maybe as high as 90˚F. It's already 83˚F with a heat index of 96˚F. Geoffrey's heading down from Boston.

I've not had the stomach for this journal for the past week or so. The words are hardly coming. Yesterday, I finally unlocked enough to write about 740 words and finish the first section of Agents of Dreamland. In December 2012, I finished the first section of Black Helicopters in one day. I needed eight days for the first section of Agents of Dreamland, and that comparison says everything about where I'm at right now. And it's terrifying. Last May, I wrote "The Beginning of the Year Without a Summer," and with that story I began pulling out of a slump, probably caused by those silly fucking Quinn books. I wrote three more good short stories after that, and then, last September, I had to set everything aside to write Alabaster: The Good, the Bad, and the Bird, which, truthfully, I didn't want to do. I lost about five months to the comic, and when it was over I was exhausted.

Right now, I can't hear the music, and it's the scariest thing in the world.


Thursday and Friday, I started and finished Nic Pizzolatto's Galveston (2010). Fucking excellent novel, a hard dose of East Texas/Louisiana noir, 1987 and 2008. I've started his collection, Between Here and the Yellow Sea: Stories (2006).


From Facebook:

One of my few "rules" for writers: Do not make characters say dumb-ass shit just to forward the story or provide exposition.


Dear audiobook narrators: The word is pronounced "kŭdzū," not "kūdū." First syllable as in "cud," "mud, and "crud." I keep hearing this mispronounced, and as a Southerner, it drives me nuts (especially when the reader is faking a Southern accent).


Someone asks me questions about a story I wrote 1998, what I was thinking when I wrote it, and so forth, as if I can actually remember such a thing.


On February 5th, while staying in Neil's magical mystery cabin in the mountains, I dropped a fire poker on my left big toe. The toenail just - finally - came off. Today shall forever be Toenail Day.*

Aunt Beast

*July 16th
Tags: "rats live on no evil star", 1998, 2012, 2014, agents of dreamland, alabaster, audiobooks, bad days, black helicopters, facebook, geoffrey, heat, kudzu, language, neil, nic pizzolatto, quinn, toenail day, woodstock, writing, writing without a net

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