greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,
greygirlbeast
greygirlbeast

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houses I have known

Yesterday is lost in a haze of business, busyness, nothing that is actually writing, but all of it because of writing. For example, the very last bit of work on Threshold, substituting this word for that perhaps better word, and then Spooky took it to the post office. Later, I had to meet Anita for a short interview for the Subterranean Press newsletter. She needed to get it out of the way this weekend, the interview about Sirenia Digest, because she's flying back to Barcelona next week. Would that I were flying with her. Spain would look good right about now. I bought her a drink and she bought me two, and we talked about Dubliners and symbolist painters and ugly shoes (alas, none of these things will make it into the interview).

Next up are the two vignettes for December, which I need to get done ASAP so Vince can begin work on his illustration for one of them, and then I'll be getting to work on "Bainbridge." December will be mostly Dancy Flammarion and Bainbridge and a-not-quite-abandoned church. For those who have asked, "Bainbridge" takes place just before "Alabaster." I'm not sure how I"m going to arrange the stories in Alabaster, whether they'll be in chronological order (by narrative) or whether I'll follow the order in which they were written. I have to figure that out, too. Ted's begun work on the illustrations, and I've started thinking about the cover.

I wonder if human civilization is ever going to reach a point where it ceases to use television toy commercials as propaganda in the gender wars? Last night, I was watching the commercials in between bits of Spongebob Squarepants and wasn't surprised to see that things really haven't changed that much since I was a kid. Back then, commercials for toys generally followed the sacred "boy toy"/"girl toy" dichotomy, just like now. To be fair, I suppose there's been a little bit of "progress." All those old-fashioned girl toys meant to guide female children towards housewifery and motherhood seem to have been replaced largely with toys which will prepare girls to be bratty, overspending adults obsessed with material wealth and chintzy glamour. Case in point, a board game from Hasbro called Mall Madness. Amazon.com writes: For detractors, Mall Madness may teach and encourage over-consumption, indebtedness, and a focus on material culture at an early age (9 and up). But for those who care more about pretty ponchos than prickly politics, the game offers the same guilty pleasure that comes from excessive shopping in reality! Yeah, that's right. Pretty ponchos. I wonder when Hasbro will get around to developing Mall Madness II: Credit Counseling?

Last night, Spooky and I watched Robert Altman's bizarre 1980 Popeye. I have always had a soft spot for freaks, which no doubt goes some way towards explaining the peculiarly soft spot which I harbour for this black sheep of a film. I still find there's something genuinely delightful about Popeye's shamelessly spastic antics. The sets and costumes alone are worth a look. Later, we started reading Gregory Maguire's Son of a Witch, but I'm wondering if we shouldn't stop and read Wicked again first. Anyway, the day's not getting any younger, and I was sort of hoping I could get some actual writing done...
Tags: dancy, movies, toys
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