No new words yesterday, though I spent the whole day in this chair at this desk, my fingers wandering over the keyboard. I tweaked the Bradbury introduction. I sent it to Peter and Ramsey and talked to them about it. They both liked it a great deal and told me to stop tweaking. Also, Ramsey sent me a photograph of a gorgeous spider. I guess I'll e-mail it to Pete Crowther at PS Publishing this afternoon (the introduction, not the spider photo) and call the job done. But it still doesn't feel finished. It doesn't feel good enough by half. But I sort of suspect it never would, no matter how long I worked on it. Never in all my life did I imagine anyone would ask me to introduce a book by Ray Bradbury. Of all the honours bestowed upon me in the last eleven years (the length of time I've been a published author), this is surely one of the highest.
Oh, and I learned from Peter that he has a new book coming out from Cemetery Dance Publications, a collection of his occasional essays and nonfiction and introductions and the like, which will be called Sides (as in "Asides"). I am very pleased to learn it will include the afterword which he wrote for Tales of Pain and Wonder way back in 2000. No word yet on the release date.
Also, my contributor copies of Stephen Jones' The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror (Vol. 17) arrived yesterday. It reprints "La Peau Verte," from To Charles Fort, With Love, and also includes short fiction by Clive Barker, Ramsey Campbell, Joe Hill, China Miéville, Gahan Wilson, Elizabeth Massie, Holly Phillips, Liz Williams, and a whole bunch of other folks (most of whom probably live in civilised places where you can buy booze on Sundays).
I did try to begin a new vignette yesterday, for Tales from the Woeful Platypus, but discovered that it is nigh well impossible for me to think impure thoughts and contemplate weird sex while simultaneously thinking about the works of Ray Bradbury. Make of that what e'er you will.
We had a longer-than-usual walk late in the afternoon. After dinner, we watched Richard Loncraine's adaptation of Richard III (1995), with Ian McKellen, Annette Bening, Robert Downey Jr., and Jim Broadbent, which I'd only seen once before, during its theatrical release. McKellen is wickedly superb. I think this is the beginning of a Shakespeare binge. Before bed, I played two hours of Drakengard 2, which I picked up just to hold me over until the release of Final Fantasy XII, but it's actually turned out to be pretty drad, and I shall likely not have finished it when FFXII arrives next month.
Okay. That's it for now. Words must be made today. By the way, I've been told by the platypus, that Sundays in September are the very best for subscribing to Sirenia Digest. And sheheit should know.