September 16th, 2006


Open Door of Night

Yesterday, the writing went well. I did 1,199 words on the collaboration with Sonya (sovay), then passed it back to her. This piece will be more short story than vignette, and more weird tale/dark fantasy than weird erotica, though there are some erotic elements. I've become fascinated by this process (and process rarely ever even interests me): she writes; I write based on what she's written; she writes based on what we've both written so far, etc. Right now the file is labeled "Scylla," though I'm uncertain whether this will be the final title of the story. As it turns out, the story is, to some degree or another, overlapping with "Houses Under the Sea." Anyway, yes, it's good to be writing again. Sonya has the piece now, so I'm going to finish up my Bradbury intro today and maybe start a piece for Tales from the Woeful Platypus while I wait for my next turn. Anyway, if you wish to read the product of this collaboration, just click here and subscribe to Sirenia Digest. It's easy. It's cheap. What are you waiting for?

There were two production queries yesterday regarding Daughter of Hounds, both concerning epigraphs. I'd somehow misquoted Emily Dickinson once and Coleridge once, but only just barely in each case. Just me being careless. We have come to that part of post-production where the most minor of details are being attended to, fixed, put right. It will be a book soon. Just three and a half months to go. Considering how long the novel gestated in my mind, then took to write, three and a half months seems like no time at all.

setsuled was asking about the Dinosaur of Sinclair Avenue, mentioned in yesterday's entry. She was first mentioned here in my entry of January 7th, 2006, where there are photos. Spooky found her first, sometime in 2005, and led me to her later on.

After the writing, I had a bath, then played Drakengard 2 on PS2 while we waited for Byron and Jim and "Hannah," with whom we had a dinner date. I'd not seen Jim since my frelling birthday in May, and I'd not seen "Hannah" since the night before we left for Rhode Island, back in July. We caught up. Jim's finished his thesis on Eurdora Welty and is beginning his Ph. D. work, and also working with a Yeats scholar, which made me envious. Afterwards, we stopped by Xocolatl for spicy Mexican chocolate ice cream. Back home, everyone visited with Hubero. Byron stayed late, and we watched shorts by David Lynch and Martin Scorcese on TCM. After Byron left, Spooky and I watched del Toro's El Espinazo del diablo (The Devil's Backbone; 2001). Gods, what a beautiful, painful film. Perfection in almost every frame, as well as in the whole, and I can confidently say it's one of the best ghost stories (or fairie tales) committed to celluloid in the last fifty years. I think I got to bed about two a.m., but sat up a while longer, reading more from Tolkein's Unfinished Tales, mostly "The Battles of the Fords of Isen."

Time to make the doughnuts...

Postscript (3:06 p.m.): I've just learned of the death of Charles L. Grant. I was particularly fond of his Oxrun series and the remarkable eleven volumes of the Shadows anthology. Very, very sad news.

That meme that's going around.

Okay, so sovay went and tagged me for goes:

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your LJ along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people.

1. Bradbury's A Medicine for Melancholy, 'cause it's right here on my desk, 'cause I'm still fretting over my introduction for The Day It Rained Forever.

3. Page 123, fifth sentence, reads: And he drove away.

4. The next four sentences are to be found on p. 124, and they read: The thought was three days and three nights growning. During the days he carried it like a ripening peach in his head. During the nights he let it take flesh and sustenance, hung out on the silent air, colored by country moon and country stars. He walked around and around the thought in the silence before dawn. On the fourth morning he reached up an invisible hand, picked it, and swallowed it whole.

6. They will likely curse me for this, but okay, I tag mistressmousey, faustfatale, corucia, brokensymmetry, and mevennen. There. I've done the deed. Back to the damn doughnuts.
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The Fisherman at Watch Hill Point

This morning I realised that I'd never gotten around to posting any of the photos from our last full day in Rhode Island, other than those of the missing Lovecraft Tree. It was Sunday, August 20th, and late in the day we drove back to Westerly and Watch Hill, all the way out to the lighthouse at Watch Hill Point. The sun was setting quickly. There was a lone fisherman out on the rocks, perched rather precariously on a half-submerged boulder. The tide was coming in. I took a few photos of him, and he noticed and waved. In all our time in RI, he was the only Very Cute Guy I'd seen, cute in a young Harrison Ford sort of way. Guys don't do it for me nearly as easily as the girls, so that's not surprising. Then we walked about the point. I spotted the cephalothorax of a horseshoe crab and decided it was a keeper. Spooky climbed down the rocks and retrieved it for me, pulling it from a tangle of seaweed. Then we headed back over to the car. The cute fisherman had abandoned his perch and was standing at the seawall with a few other anglers. We got in the car, and then, to my horror, he came over and started talking to us. Though it may be hard to believe, I have moments of morbid shyness when I lock up and can't say a frelling word. Fortunately, Spooky has no such predilection, and she talked to him while I sat there blushing and nodding my head and feeling like a total idiot. He'd thought maybe we were taking photos for a magazine story. He even flirted. Sheesh. Anyway, more behind the cut:

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Also, here's a wonderful thing: Rogue's Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, and Chanteys, a two-disc set, 43 tracks, including contributions by Bono, Sting, Gavin Friday, Nick Cave, Joseph Arthur, Bryan Ferry, and Lou Reed. Thanks to eldritch00 for bringing it to my attention!