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June 11th, 2019

"You just don't remember it yet."

No rain today, and only a few clouds, but the weather stayed cool. Currently, it's only 68˚F.

A much better day today, despite sleeping less than five hours. I wrote 1,430 words on this new story, and for the first time on this one I felt like I pulled away from mediocrity. It may turn out well, after all. This story is, by the way, a very odd sort of "sequel" to "Les Fleurs Empoisonnées," set in Birmingham in 2018, twenty years after the events of that story (Dancy would be about thirty-five). There was email with Bill Schafer and Jun Ebersole.

Meanwhile, Spooky spent the morning transferring the contents of our storage unit to a larger unit in the same building, just across the aisle.

And the black mood stayed at bay. It helps that Thursday is a McWane day. Anyway, after the writing, I did some paleo' work and watched documentaries on volcanoes and earthquakes.

Tonight, we watched the Miley Cyrus episode of Black Mirror, "Rachel, Jack, and Ashley, Too," which I must admit was pretty damn delightful, and then we watched Bertrand Tavernier's In the Electric Mists (2009), based on James Lee Burke's In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead (1993).

Please have a look at the current eBay links. Thank ye.

Later Taters,
CRK




10:52 a.m.