• Location: Aurorae Sinus
• Mood: busy
• Music: Bruderschaft, "Forever" (Darkness Pulls Me Under mix)

And the crowd goes wild!

So, seven and a half hours sleep — a minor miracle, no small feat, hardly chopped liver — and then it all concludes in an Epic Dream which seemed to be a surreal hybrid of Star Wars space opera and the whole War in Heaven/Contstantine sort of thing, Paradise Lost with robots and starfighters, and the warring angels were singing This Mortal Coil's cover of Colin Newman's song "Alone." Such are my dreams. At least I can explain the song's presence: it was actually playing on the bedroom stereo as I slept, so that was mere intrusion.

Alone, with too much generosity.
A theatre mask of hostility attracts
Assaults occur, infrequently
And those who come to conquer
Need strength
But damage accumulates
Still moving him to tears
Retain a sense of humor.
Retain a sense of humor.
Retain a sense of humor.
Retain a sense of humor.

I will be pondering this all damned day.

———

Why have I never gone to San Diego for ComiCon? A) It's in San Diego, home of the Creation Research Institute; B) I cannot even begin to justify spending the money on the trip; C) this quote from setsuled's latest LJ entry, reporting back from the con:

Finally, the Grindhouse panel had to leave, and the little Comic-Con administrator guy had time to fill because Kevin Smith was still stuck in traffic, twenty miles away. He said to the crowd, "Well, in room 20 upstairs, Ray Bradbury, Ray Harryhausen, and Forrest J. Ackerman are conducting a panel. We can put up the video feed of that--" A few cheers came from the crowd. "--Or, Warner Brothers has provided us with footage from their upcoming movie, Beerfest." Lots of cheers, hoots, and applause came from the audience. "Well, okay," the little man said sadly, "I guess culture loses to-day."

And it occurs to me, again, that there is usually something sort of grotesque about mass appeal.

Yesterday. Mostly, it was spent laying out and proofing Sirenia Digest No. 8, which will go out to readers sometime today, as soon as I have the final PDF. If you've not subscribed, it's not too late to get No. 8, which includes both my new short story, "The Cryomancer's Daughter" and Sonya Taaffe's very wonderful tale, "The Depth Oracle." Of course, if you're saving your money to see Beerfest, I'll understand. So, yes, most of the day went to the digest. I also had to get some information to Pandemonium Books in Boston regarding my signing/reading there August 5th. I sent "Pony" and "pas-en-arrière" to Vince, because neither were illustrated for the digest, but both need illustrations for Tales from the Woeful Platypus. I did a lot of things that have more to do with getting ready to leave Atlanta on Tuesday than with writing.

Oh. I also looked in on my MySpace page. I still haven't had a chance to speak with my agent regarding the MySpace TOS.

Also, I decided what I'd wear to the Boston signing. By the way, here's the announcement again, for anyone who missed it the first two times and has no idea what I'm talking about: I will be signing and reading at Pandemonium Books in Cambridge (4 Pleasant Street) on Saturday, August 5th, from 8-10 p.m. You can get directions to Pandemonium from their website (link above). And yes, I will sign whatever you bring for me to sign. I cannot yet say which books will be available at Pandemonium. I've asked them to push Low Red Moon and Murder of Angels.

I have decided that I will most likely be reading "Houses Under the Sea," a short story I wrote and sold back in 2004, but which has not yet been published. It's one of my favourites. Okay. Stuff to do. Three days worth of stuff, all crammed tightly into today. Mostly, I'll be going over the CEM for Daughter of Hounds One Last Time, as though these tinkerings and obsessions over grammar have anything at all to do with the book's success or failure.