What happened? I went into COVID-19 self-isolation about March 15th and within a couple of months, between one thing and the other, I wasn't writing. Sirenia Digest, my bread and butter, stopped going out. Indeed, though I managed some editing, I wrote virtually nothing worth mentioning until December 15th, when I began a story titled "The Woman Who Blew Down Houses." And suddenly I was writing again. In three months I wrote a total of eight stories, all for Sirenia Digest, and new and back issues began to go out to subscribers. Between mid December and March 14th, I wrote:
"Untitled 45" (Sirenia Digest #175, August 2021)
"L'hommes et la femme terribles" (Sirenia Digest #176, September 2020)
"Untitled Psychiatrist #5" (Sirenia Digest #177, October 2020)
"The Woman Who Blew Down Houses" (Sirenia Digest #178, November 2020)
"Threnody for Those Who Die December Deaths" (Sirenia Digest #179, December 2020)
"Blackwater" (Sirenia Digest #180, January 2021)
"Heart-Shaped Hole" (Sirenia Digest #181, February 2021)
"The Jar" (Sirenia Digest #182, March 2021)
April (#183) and July (#174) should be along soonish.
And I've been working with Subterranean Press on new books and with Blackstone Publishing, who are producing all my audiobooks (which are really piling up), and there's been a LOT of paleontology, but...I think I'm gonna save that stuff for tomorrow.
I am going to talk some about my experience during the year of lockdown (and, for me, it was near absolute), but I'm going to try to avoid attempting any sort of lengthy recap of all that missed time. Like much of the world, I lost a year, and, also like much of the work and like many authors, a lamentably large portion of that lost year was entirely unproductive. There's not much to say about it.
On Saturday, March 27th, Spooky and I got Shot 1 of the Pfizer vaccine, at the Wal-greens on Clairmont Avenue, which was my first trip over the mountain into Birmingham proper since May. I get Shot 2 on April 24th.
I've been reading a lot (more on this later), and we've been watching a lot of television, of course. Right now, we're working our way through Superstore (NBC), which is generally fucking hilarious. The last season of Vikings was very good. We've been watching Debris, from J.H. Wyman, who was a writer and co-executive producer on the brilliant and much-missed Fringe, but, so far, what made Fringe great is absent from Debris.
I got back to work at McWane Science Center on (or about) May 10th, once I am fully vaccinated and immune, after an absence of about 14 months. That's been one of the hardest parts of all this.
I have wasted gigantic junks of the lockdown in the time-such of Second Life. But thank you, Chris, all at the same.
And that's enough for now. It's full-on spring here and Joe Biden is President, so have a fucking flower.
4:23 p.m. (by Spooky)