• Mood: not too bad
• Music: Kate Bush, "Under the Ivy"

Horses made of stars.

I did 1,712 words on Chapter Five of Daughter of Hounds yesterday. Not bad. That makes 7,521 words for Chapter Five, so far, which means I'm still right on the New Re-Revised Schedule. But I am now having some trouble imagining how I'm going to keep this chapter as short as I'd hoped to keep it. An awful lot needs to happen in that last 2,400 or so words. And that's after I trimmed a bit off the "outline" for the chapter (a slightly dogeared 4X6" note card). But Emmie has met the Daughter of the Four of Pentacles. It's snowing. I have reached a point where THE END is at least conceivable. Perhaps by August 1st, it will be visible.

Vince sent some of the inked illos. for Frog Toes and Tentacles yesterday. Sweet. And we watched the last two episodes of Season Five of The Sopranos, which were superb. I spoke with Jada, far away in Arkansas. And Maureen — stardustgirl — sent me the draddest thing, a kit from which to build my own motorized Martian rover. Sadly, no launch vehicle is included, so I'll have to settle for exploring the backyard, but that's why Albert Einstein invented Imagination. Thank you, Maureen.

Here's a link to the Bookslut interview from back in November. I agree to so few interviews these days, and I kind of like this one, so I thought I'd try to get some more mileage from the thing.

And as long as I'm posting links, Ryan Obermeyer's been redecorating his website, including new takes on a familiar image.

I am being guardedly hopeful about Speilberg's coming adaptation of The War of the Worlds. It's not even close to the version I wanted, which would be set, like Well's novel, in Victorian England and probably wouldn't have Tom Cruise, but this could be a fun film for some sizzling summer afternoon. It could certainly be as good as the George Pal version (though hopefully less Xtian). It looks gorgeous, but last summer The Day After Tomorrow taught me to always beware that which glitters, as it may only turn out to be the sun sparkling of a frozen turd. But I'm hopeful.