Yesterday, I did 1,009 words on a story that I am, for now, calling "Three Monsters Walk Into a Bar," and it's a story featuring the Signalman, set two years after the events of Agents of Dreamland. Day before yesterday, it occurred to me, and I just started writing. I'm really not sure where it's headed. A scene in a diner in Los Angeles. Anyway, it will be featured in Sirenia Digest No. 137.
Yesterday wasn't a good day. It was a day and a night when the anxiety and fear and anger coalesced into something as focused and bright as a laser.
The most pernicious of the New Myths, the young myths of the young 21st century, is that our lives were dull and lonely before the internet. They were not. They were, though, a lot less distracted.
Last night, we watched Bryan Singer's The Usual Suspects. It had been a few years. The film's American release date was August 16th, 1995, and last night it occurred to me that it was very likely the first new movie after Elizabeth's death that I saw in a theater.