Yesterday, I wrote 1,337 words and reached The End with "Animals Pull the Night Around Their Shoulders." This is the first short story I've been able to finish since I finished "Whisper Road" back on July 2nd, so it was a huge relief. Having now managed to write the first half of The Chartreuse Alphabet and all of a new short story, I begin to hope that the crisis is passing, but it is a very cautious hope. If I can keep this up for six months, then I will allow myself to believe I'm out of the woods. For what it's worth, I suspect "Animals Pull the Night Around Their Shoulders" is one of the better things I've written in the past two or three years; it's certainly one of the most disturbing.
Today is an assembly day. I have to put together Sirenia Digest #128 and send it off to be PDF'd. It will go out to subscribers tonight or tomorrow.
Please have a look at our current eBay auctions. Thank you.
Last night, I made a double feature of Zoltán Korda's Sahara (1943) and Lloyd Bacon's Action in the Atlantic (also 1943), both starring Bogart, neither of which I'd ever seen. The latter rarely rises above the level of a ham-fisted, if well meaning, OWI mouthpiece, while Sahara is undoubtedly one of the better films about World War II made during WWII. And in the Sudanese Sergeant Major Tambul (played by Rex Ingram) it includes a dignified, heroic Islamic black man as a main character treated as an equal by white men, and it did so at a time when such things were few and far between.
Okay. Time to make the doughnuts.