Here in Atlanta, it's cold and rainy.
And Hubero only woke me once last night.
Turns out there's a Spanish-language edition of Shadows Over Baker Street — Sombras Sobre Baker Street. I still wouldn't know about it, had Elizabeth Bear (matociquala) not given me a head's up yesterday. This is the Lovecraft/Sherlock Holmes anthology that contains my story "The Drowned Geologist."
As much as I love Final Fantasy XII (and loved FFX and FFX-2), I have to admit I'd be quite a bit more impressed had the designers built a game wherein one does not have to slaughter endless hoards of wildlife and non-humanoid beings in order to gain experience points, hit points, and magic points. There could have been puzzles, for example. Or the killing could have been confined primarily to other "humes" (as in Dragkengard II). I don't know. It probably sounds silly. But I'm really getting tired of virtually murdering virtual wolves and hyenas and snakes and dinosaurs and whatnot, and sure, they do usually attack first, but that's only because ヴァン and Co. keep going places they ought not be. Never mind.
Nothing much to yesterday, aside from the writing. I read a great deal about Wilde's Salomé and Alfred Bruce Douglas and the Lord Chamberlain's ban on plays depicting Biblical characters. We went for a short walk, as far as Freedom park, but it was chilly and dispiriting. There was a beautiful great bank of purple-grey clouds to the south. Last night, we watched Mike Leigh's Topsy-Turvy (1999) again, which remains one of my favourite films, and not just because I have this thing for Shirley Henderson. It's just a brilliant film. You know, I wonder how many people know that Moaning Myrtle is -1?
Okay. I'm running late. But be a good egg and pre-order Daughter of Hounds, if you've not already. I thank you, and Herr Platypus thanks you, too.