November 1st, 2012

white

"Oh, your hands can heal. Your hands can bruise."

Turned about a bit this morning. A little trouble distinguishing up from down. Doesn't help that I just got jumped by another idiotic troll from the Outrage Olympics (or whatever you choose to call Them), who used Twitter to accuse me of stigmatizing mental illness. Um...right. Okay, anyway.

An inconvenient mid-day (for me) doctor's appointment and work have prevented us from going south to see what has been lost to Sandy. Then again, many roads are still closed, and there's no telling if we'd be able to reach the places we want to reach, And people don't need us in the way. But here's a photo that sort of stopped us cold, a house only a half mile east from our usual beach combing/swimming spot on Moonstone Beach. This is one of a group of houses there known as the Five Sisters.



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My thanks to everyone who preordered the forthcoming Alabaster: Wolves hc yesterday or who helped to boost the signal. Over the course of the afternoon, the sales ranking at Amazon rose from ~133k to 7,283. This ayem, it's at 6,618. Which are the sorts of numbers I was seeing when I stopped pushing it a couple of weeks back. I was hoping momentum had been built independent of my efforts, but now I fear that wasn't the case. At any rate, if you haven't, please do preorder. We're probably less than halfway to that ~2,500 copy mark.

A number of people have expressed distaste at be asked to support Amazon, and, yeah. Agreed. I point people there because publishers have to keep Amazon happy. It's the greedy monster that rules publishing today. However, there is an option, if you wish to avoid ordering from Amazon. You may also preorder Alabaster: Wolves directly from Things From Another Word, for $15.99, 20% off cover price. So, there's a good option for those who (rightly) despise Amazon.

Oh, and there's a free Alabaster: Wolves wallpaper available from Dark Horse, here. Again, my grateful thanks to everyone.

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Not much Hallowe'en here last night. Not much Hallowe'en in all Providence, or so it seemed. Very few jack-o'-lanterns or trick-or-treaters. We watched the first two episodes of the second season of Ryan Murphy's American Horror Story. Spooky and I were both avid admirers of Season One, but this time around, well. Somewhere, Kathryn saw it described as a "hot mess," which sort of sums up our feelings. Too much, too fast. Storytelling and characterization seem to have been tossed aside in favor of shocks. In only two episodes we get alien abduction, demonic possession, horrific discrimination against lesbian and interracial couples, a nightmarishly abusive "psychiatric hospital," a mad scientist and his experiments and mutant monstrosities, and a serial killer. Or several. Oh, and sex. Lots of sex. Now, any one of these subjects, great. But all of them? In two episodes? Also, the touches of camp (mostly via Jessica Lange) that work so well in Season One have swallowed everything. The best thing, so far, is Zachary Quinto as an appalled and bewildered psychiatrist, but, mostly, he seems like he's playing an actor lost in the train wreck of a plot. We're going to give it two more episodes, but I fear Murphy "jumped the shark" in the first half hour.

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If you want to take part in November's installment of Aunt Beast's Book of the Month club, there will be two selections. First, Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves, the best November book ever. The second selection, I have yet to choose. So, that one, TBA.

And now, I must get back to Mars.

I'm the Bad Woman Who Oppresses,
Aunt Beast