I've been trying to write for days, it feels like.
I'm in my own way.
Last night, we saw Sam Elliott in Robert D. Krzykowski's The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot (2018). A very, surprisingly sweet film, and it captures a peculiar dreamlikeness. That's not a word, but it ought to be.
Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. They include a copy of The Very Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan, and this is the only one of these I'll be selling anytime soon, probably. Thanks.
Anyway...after the office floor rocks, behind the cut, two shots of the notebook I was using in Athens, Georgia when I wrote "Anamorphosis," back in May 1994. I was still trying to make notes for short stories back then, a practice I gave up probably by '95 or '96.
(I have no idea whose address that is.)