Reports of my untimely demise have been greatly exaggerated. However, the same may not be said of Hindrance (née Victoria Regina, aka Crackbaby), my seven-year-old iBook. The last few days she's been fading fast — literally — as her screen gave up the LCD ghost (so to speak). Between iBook anxiety and being unable to find the beginning of The Dinosaurs of Mars, I've been in something of a tizzy. So, Friday afternoon I spoke with my accountant. I have one of those now, ever since She Who Will Not Be Named played havoc with my finances. Informed that yes, I could afford to spend some of the proceeds from the Forced March on a new computer (especially since I'm cutting back on boy whores), yesterday evening Spooky and I made the trip to the Apple Store at Lenox Mall, and now I have a most marvelous machine, my third Apple since July 1993, a 17-inch iMac desktop, whom I have yet to name. Of course, most of today will be spent not-writing, transferring data from Hindrance and getting the new machine just the way I need it to be so I can write tomorrow. And she has not yet been named. This is the computer that should last me until approximately 2013, provided that I last that long myself.
I've just turned up the following PW review of my contribution to Thrillers 2:
EDITED BY ROBERT MORRISH. Cemetery Dance, $40 (230p) ISBN 978-1-58767-122-7 (JUNE)
Caitlin R. Kiernan’s blend of deft characterization and eldritch atmosphere are displayed in two excellent tales of cosmic dread: "The Daughter of the Four of Pentacles" is a prelude to Daughter of Hounds which raises some unsettling questions about our circumscribed position in the universe, while "Houses Under the Sea" handles its Lovecraftian roots with a poignant sensitivity that intensifies its impact. Thrillers 2's effective mix of styles and themes offers a sampler of the best that modern horror offers.
A good Kid Night on Friday. We watched the perfectly ridiculous (nigh unto laughable) William Girdler 1978 adaptation of Graham Masterson's The Manitou, followed by Koji Hashimoto and Sakyo Komatsu's Sayônara, Jûpetâ (1984), as surreal and inexplicable a bit of space opera as Japan has ever produced, complete with toy space ships, hippie ecoterroists, a dolphin, and a Godzilla cameo. Boy howdy.
I'm thinking about adding a monthly podcast to Sirenia Digest. Does this sound like a good idea? Very likely, I shall.
Okay, the platypus says it's time to get back to work. This afternoon, I am in no mood to argue with a platypus what cracks such a damn mean whip...