October 11th, 2016

talks to wolves

"And I left the footprints, the mud stained on the carpet..."

Sunny and 57˚F today, a little warmer than yesterday.

On this day in 1993, when I was twenty-nine. I began work on Silk. It's been twenty-three years. Which seems like a really enormously long time, though I know it isn't. I was living alone in an apartment on the Southside of Birmingham, about halfway up the north slope of Red Mountain. It was still six months before I would move to Athens, Georgia. I'd only had tow fiction sales, "Between the Flat Irons and the Deep Green Sea" and "Persephone." I have a couple of photos of that apartment building, taken when Spooky and I were visiting Birmingham and Leeds in 2014:

View from 16th Avenue South. The building was built in 1923. The place is a lot nicer these days then when I lived there. In 1993, it was just a step or two up from "dump." But it was my home from December 1989 until April 1994.

My apartment was upstairs and around back.

I somehow managed to salvage yesterday. It helped that the short-lived Republican coup wasn't a total loss. I did 1,002 words on "Build Your Houses With Their Backs to the Sea." Today, I need to find THE END. I also need to answer a bunch of email I let slide yesterday. Oh, and the galley pages for Dear Sweet Filthy World were delivered, because UPS doesn't shut down for Columbus Day, which is more than I can say for quite a lot of Providence. Here, Columbus Day is treated as Italian Pride Day. Last night, I proofread the first story in the collection, "Werewolf Smile," which was written in August 2009.

Oh, and I signed tax forms yesterday.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thank you.

Aunt Beast