Yesterday, the mail brought me copies of the new issue of Tähtivaeltaja, a Finnish sf/fantasy zine, which has an eight-page article on my books and comics. And this is really drad and all, only I can't make heads nor tails of Finnish, so, for all I know, it could be eight pages extolling the virtues of soy beans, with titles of my stories scattered randomly about to keep me fooled. I see bad online translations in my not-too-distant future. I will note that the article includes the abominable cover of the Meisha Merlin edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder. Otherwise, it looks great.
Also yesterday, I read Spooky the first half of Chapter Nine of Daughter of Hounds. It's nice. Solid. I like it very, very much, and it made me kind of ill, reading it, to think that I've allowed the novel to languish for a month or more. I'm going to try to get to work on the second half of the chapter today; I'm going to try very, very hard.
Also (also), I read David Kerr's "Epiphany for Aliens" (Again, Dangerous Visions). Spooky went to the L5P Halloween Parade, but I was feeling even more anti-social than usual and stayed home. She took lots of pictures, some of which I think she'll post in her LJ later today. The Klingons on Harleys are my favorite. Then, last night, two houses across the street held some sort of wild-ass party that went on until the police shut it down. I'm not going to call it a Halloween party, because no one was in costume so far as I could see, which was even more annoying than all the drunken rowdiness and the people parking on the frelling sidewalk in front of our house and so on and so forth. I refuse to accept that Halloween is merely another opportunity for yuppie scum to attempt to relive the glorious blur of their frat days with bad music and cheap yellow beer in big red plastic cups.
Here's a link (thanks, Kirin!) that made me laugh and roll my eyes and grind my teeth and curse the marginally literate idiots of the world — all at once. Check out Matthew Baldwin's "Lone Star Statements," being excerpts from one-star Amazon.com "reviews" of books from Time’s list of the 100 best novels from 1923 to the present. I was especially taken with the "review" of Catcher in the Rye, which simply states, "“So many other good books...don’t waste your time on this one. J.D. Salinger went into hiding because he was embarrassed.” Also, the "review" of Slaughterhouse-Five (too dumb to quote), which gives me new hope that the human race really is artificially selecting itself backwards towards Homo erectus. I shouldn't say that. I have it on good authority that Homo erectus had a perfectly fine sense of wonder and ability to suspend disbelief. My apologies to all the souls of all good Homo erectus, past and future, for having compared them to the squinting scuttlefish who shat out these "reviews." You deserve better. Of course, so does Kurt Vonnegut.
Okay. Go write, Caitlín. At least, go think about how you're a bum if you don't write. Time to make the doughnuts. But please have a look at our eBay auctions. Remember: every "Buy It Now" purchase gets a monster doodle. Thanks!