Anyway...
A good writing day yesterday. 694 words. Quite unexpectedly, I began a new story — "The Ammonite Violin (Murder Ballad #4") — which I suppose will be appearing in Sirenia Digest 11 late this month. The last few days, a ballad, "The Twa Sisters" (recorded by Loreena McKennitt as "The Bonny Swans"), has been going round and round in my head, wanting to be retold as a short story. I think this is it, though there's not a swan in sight. I am unaccustomed to having so many stories in my head at once. Right now, there's "The Ammonite Violin," and there's also Joey LaFaye, and there's also The Dinosaurs of Mars. I'm used to one story at a time, so my head is story stew. Anyway, expect "The Ammonite Violin" to be paired with
It pleases me that the drop-down menus on LJ use entry instead of post.
Byron came by last night, halfway through Heroes, and stayed for Dr. Who. He would not, however, stay for Battlestar Galactica. Because, said he, he has yet to "drink the purple Kool-Aid." Which is to say, Byron has managed to hold his grudge against the Sci Fi Channel much more faithfully than have I, and even now, four years later, he's not forgiven them for cancelling Farscape. Truth is, I haven't forgiven them, as the act in question was unforgivable. I just decided, reluctantly, I wasn't going to be stubborn and miss Dr. Who and Battlestar Galactica over so negligible a matter as mere principle or integrity. But Byron's better with such things than I am, inconvenient things like principle and integrity. Not quite so much better that he'll miss Dr. Who, but betterer enough that he refuses to watch Battlestar Galactica, which he knows he would love. I think he figures that Dr. Who is merely being shown on the SFC, while Battlestar Galactica was created by the SFC and took Farscape's place. But, anyway, I'm going to experiment with two-word TV reviews:
Heroes: still optimistic.
Dr. Who: brilliant, delightful.
Battlestar Galactica: wow, again.
Eh. Next week, I think I shall allow myself four words for each review. Also, I finally sat down and listened to the new disc from the Decemberists, The Crane Wife. Exquisite, says I. Quite different from Picaresque. There are fewer of the flights of fancy we saw in, say, "The Infanta" or "The Mariner's Revenge Song." It seems a more grounded and solemn album. There are murder ballads (there's that phrase again), in "The Landlord's Daughter" and "You'll Not Feel the Drowning." There's reference to the Civil War ("Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Again)") and the seige of Leningrad ("When the War Comes," and how can I not love an album with an ode to Nikolai Ivanovich Vavilov?). But there's still some whimsy, particularly in the "The Crane Wife," parts 1, 2, and 3, though it's a sad sort of whimsy. Only one song seems suited to the 20th Century, "The Perfect Crime #2," and then only just barely. I think my favourite track is "Come and See," though the last song, "Sons and Daughters," is awfully good, as well. Anyway, no sour notes here. Check it out. I do wish that Petra Haden were here, though.
Oh, yeah. After Battlestar Galactica, I finished Drakengard 2. Well, one of three possible endings. I won't risk any spoilers, only say that I loved the game, Manah's still hot, and it was quite difficult (I played it set on "challenge"), but I was somewhat dissatisfied with the ending. I'm not usually like that. I tend to treat the ends of stories like history. Which is to say, that's what happened, regardless of who dies or is betrayed or gets away unscathed. I figure, the author knows what is to come, what happens, the history of the story sheheit is telling, and the reader is merely watching. This is what I believe. Just so long as it rings true. But I did not find that the end of this game rang true. It seemed an eleventh-hour plot twist, put there to stun and take aback. I'm going to have a break from gaming, at least until Final Fantasy XII comes out at the end of the month, as there's so much writing and reading to get done. But I will come back to Drakengard 2 one day and find those other endings, hoping that one of them rings more true.
Okay. I got behind on e-mail yesterday and must catch up. And then, well, you know.