I'm composing this on a new Mac, a MacBook Air that I've yet to name. I had no actual wish to buy a new machine, as I'm actually rather sick to death at the moment of machines, and with the taxes due I surely didn't have the money. But Lúthien (my iMac) has been acting peculiar for months, and the past week it's crashed twice. So, now I'm setting it aside as an emergency backup, and I have this odd little thing. I was cheaper than buying a MacBook, and it seems just as useful to my needs (even if it doesn't have a disc drive). Of course, now we have to crank up eBay again, because (option money or no) we were hardly in a place to weather unexpected expenses of that magnitude. Keep watching the skies. There will be auctions very soon, including copies of The Ape's Wife and Other Stories.
For one reason and another, we've set the move aside until...well...I'm not even sure until when. The deciding factor was my workload, though money also played a significant role in the decision. I simply couldn't sacrifice two months to a move, not now. I'm trying not to think too hard on what this means – another winter in the Northeast. I just have to get through it. I have to write my screenplay and find a way to start Interstate Love Song and trust that in 2016 I'll have another chance to leave Providence. I cannot call this decision a mistake, as, truthfully, I didn't genuinely have a choice. Necessity is the mother of the unthinkable.
Today I need to finish my work on the ARC of Beneath an Oil-Dark Sea, and then I need to send the corrections and all the illustrations to Subterranean Press. And that will be done. And a huge fucking weight off my back. Oh, wait. It'll be done except for going out tomorrow to take the author's photo. When that is sent in, then it will be done.
Last night, instead of the planned double feature of Miller's Crossing and Blue Velvet, I watched Alex Proyas' Dark City (the director's cut and one of my all-time favorites) and, before it, Jordan Scott's Cracks (2009). My god, what a beautiful, sad, terrible film, all wrapped up in adolescence, insanity, and sexual repression. It treads the same territory as, say, Picnic at Hanging Rock and, to a lesser extent, The Children's Hour. Eva Green is, as always, marvelous. Same with Juno Temple. The director is the daughter of Ridley Scott by the way. I strongly recommend this film.
And now, I need to work.