The James Goho book has, I think, really done a number on my head. I suppose it ought not have, but it has, all the same. Someone has gone to the trouble to write a book about my fiction, and McFarland has seen fit to publish it. And it just will not sop seeming weird. I haven't even opened my copy of the book since it arrived. I've held it a couple of times, but I have not opened it. I may or may not ever actually read it. I suppose it would be a disservice to Mr. Goho if I never do. I wouldn't want to seem ungrateful, because I am grateful. It's just very strange. But, as you can see below, the dodo and the hedgehog approve.*
What else today? Well, it's not a today thing, but yesterday I finished with Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and began Jeff VanderMeer's Dead Astronauts.
I picked through some of the cave matrix and found a pretty little shrew jaw.
I''m supposedly on a two-week break from Second Life, just to let my head clear. But I'm not doing so well, which is to say I did a short scene last night (thank you, Chris) and will likely be in SL much this weekend. But I am trying.
Aunt "They Done Went and Wrote a Book About Me" Beast
* On my desk reside these three critters I think of as artistic "spirit animal" equivalents, sort of writerly companions representing facets of my psyche – the platypus, the dodo, and the hedgehog. They've been with me for more than twenty years at this point. Note, I don't actually buy into "spirit animal" superstitions, but it's nice to friends, even if they are only injection-molded plastic from some Chinese sweatshop.