greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,
greygirlbeast
greygirlbeast

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Howard Hughes sits and spins.

In defiance of Reason, the New Consolidated March continues apace. Yesterday, I wrote a very respectable 2,105 words.

Dreamsick this morning, and if I believed in such things as "souls," I'd say soulsick, as well. I would kick against the pricks, only it seems my legs have been firmly bound, and I can but continue to drag this plow forward.

Late yesterday, Vince sent a preliminary sketch for "Untitled 25" (the werewolf story) which is to appear in Sirenia Digest 15 later this month.

A very kind and somewhat intriguing e-mail yesterday from Jacob Garbe, regarding Daughter of Hounds

I have no idea what my opinion is worth to you (this is Jacob, I comment occasionally on your blog) but I wanted to tell you that Daughter of Hounds is the best I've read from you so far, and the best writing I've read for a long time from anyone. Your book was so good that anything distracting me from picking it up after a day of pencil-pushing was met with annoyance and many times outright dismissal. It's been a long time since I've been absorbed like that, and for that I must thank you.

Your characterization in this novel is easily its strongest point. Your attention to detail borders on the taxidermical, but critically rings that bell of truth for the reader. Amazingly, your writing is still rapidly maturing, which is wonderful.

It would be easy for me to believe you've put more of yourself into this piece than any before. I can draw pale conclusions based on your journal and the work itself: the fight between reductionist logic and scientific skepticism, your characters' struggle through a world constantly threading them along an unknown path, shadowed by events caused by forces just outside of their reckoning. For what it's worth, this piece struck a particularly resonant chord with me because of a strange period in my life punctuated by dreams of a pale woman with yellow eyes (others called her the Sphynx) and a grossly overweight, completely hairless man. The influence of dreams in the work, along with the descriptions of Esmeribetheda and the Bailiff, gave me a Jungian pause. Cool.

Thanks for the good art, and thanks for opening it up through your journal. As a writer myself, I appreciate it.


Thank you, Jacob. The opinions of intelligent readers are always of interest to me. And to everyone else reading this, if you have not already purchased a copy of the novel, I would ask you please do so ASAP. If your local bookshop does not have it in stock, they will order it for you. All you have to do is ask. It is also available all over the web. You may get it from Amazon.com for a mere $11.20 + postage and handing. In this blighted future of ours, we do not have to rely on the books stocked in any given bookshop. There's always the web. Anyway, I cannot stress enough how much my continued existence as a novelist depends on the performance of Daughter of Hounds. Please pick up a copy (or three).

We had a good walk yesterday, as far west as the intersection of Sinclair and Elizabeth, where we discovered the Inman Park Petworks, a very fine little pet supply shop that will help us stay clear of the big-box chains. There was still more of a nip in the wind than I'd have preferred, but the air was warm — 49F when our walk began, 56F by the time we returned home. Today is overcast, and we'll not be walking. At least it's warm (presently 52F, with a forecast high of 57F).

Late yesterday, when the writing was done with me for the day, I went with Spooky to Whole Foods (where shadows are permitted) to get stuff for dinner. First we stopped at Borders, to get Mitch Cullin's A Slight Trick of the Mind and Book Two of Jim Butcher's Dresden Files series, Fool Moon. As for the former, Cullin may be my new favourite author. As for the latter, the TV series has prompted me to give the novels a try, and there were no copies of Book One in stock, so I figured I'd just start with Book Two. After dinner and Heroes, we read more of The Terror, chapters 42-45, which gets us to an unknown latitude and longitude on 4 July 1848. By then Spooky was sleepy, but I needed something more to put me down for the night, so I read Chapter Nine of In the Wake of Madness ("That Direful Madness"), which did the trick.

But now it's time to march.

Ah, I almost forgot. The new round of eBay auctions.
Tags: books, doh, jung, sirenia
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