November 27th, 2010

Eli2

"I need to sleep so much."

Bye bye long day,
I need to sleep so much.
You shine on me.
Too much is not enough.

On the sheets and pillow case,
In my bed for heaven's sake,
The devil's dancing until late in my head there.
But I could sleep with you there.
I could sleep with you there.

Always.
Always.

Bye bye long day.
I need to sleep so much,
Nineteen hours straight.
Too much is not enough...
— Catherine Wheel

I wrote a great deal of Silk to that album, which always surprises people, because they imagine that me as some goth-punk cliché. Like I wrote the damn thing holed up in a dark room listening to nothing but Bauhaus and Joy Division.

I did. Listen to Bauhaus and Joy Division when I was writing it, I mean. But I also listened to Catherine Wheel. The girl who used to cut my hair was dating the vocalist, though she lived in Georgia and he in London.

I'm awake and babbling. I start to think I will never sleep normally ever again. I'm annoyed because I meant to be reading Shirley Jackson's The Sundial, but discovered I am, instead, reading Shirley Jackson's The Bird's Nest. Which is a fine novel, just not what I meant to be reading.

I was telling Spooky, earlier, about living in Athens, and getting to know Michael Stipe. Because we bought our comics in the same comics shop, and drank at the same bar. How he gave me permission to quote a line of R.E.M. lyrics in an issue of The Dreaming: "It's a Man Ray kind of sky." But then the record label started making trouble, and we didn't have time to get it sorted out. So, I changed the line to "It's a memory kind of sky."

I am exhausted. My eyes are on fire. And I can't sleep. And one of the worst things about insomnia is that everyone has advice. They're well meaning, I know. Well intentioned. But I do so tire of the advice. It's hard to convince people you've heard it all, tried it all. Even when you say, "It's one reason I'm seeing a psychiatrist, and I have meds, and whatnot." They still talk about warm milk and hot baths. I do not want advice. I want sleep.
Shaw

Red walls, white shelves, black frame.

Yesterday, I wrote 1,731 words, and I found THE END of "The Prayer of Ninety Cats." The story is presently 9,918 words long, but I suspect it'll be well over 10k after the polish I'll be giving it tomorrow. Structurally, it's something I've not done before, in that it's second person and partly written as a screenplay. I think it's a story I've been trying to write for a very long time. I'm sort of amazed that I finally did it. The effort has left me a bit off balance. As soon as I'm done tweaking it, and Sirenia Digest has gone out to subscribers, I'll be getting back to work on The Drowning Girl.

There's been too much news lately. Too much news pollution. North Korea. A projected date for the extinction of tigers in the wild— 2020 (which pretty much is the same thing as a projected date for the extinction of tigers). The American police state and the TSA*. Fantastic strides in medicine that will only ever be available to the wealthy. Black Friday.

I mostly try to avoid the news. Mostly.

After the writing yesterday, and after dinner, we watched three more episodes of Doctor Who, up through "Vincent and the Doctor." I thought I would hate the latter, and it turned out to be one of my favorite episodes ever.

We also watched an episode of American Masters, "LennoNYC," which was very, very good.

Sleep wouldn't come, and finally I broke down and took a pill, and read this Aleister Crowley biography I've been reading. I dozed off sometime after four-thirty ayem, and slept fitfully until eleven this morning. Something like six and a half hours.

Turns out the Julie Taymor adaptation of The Tempest is only being released in Minneapolis and LA on December 10th. Whether or not it will ever see wider distribution is anyone's guess.

I have a list of the people who've asked for a PDF of the blog, November 2001/April 2004, and I'll see those go out next week.

Today, I'm changing my Twitter username from @greygirlbeast to @auntbeast. Yes, I still hate Twitter.

And today I'll be working on the layout for Sirenia Digest #60. I need a little space between me and "The Prayer of Ninety Cats," so I'm going to wait until tomorrow to get back to it.

Time to make the doughnuts,

More or Less Yours,
Aunt Beast

*Until such time as the TSA backs the fuck off, I'll not be traveling anywhere I cannot reach by train, automobile, bus, or boat.