• Location: Ismenius Lacus
• Mood: better
• Music: Radiohead, "There There"

You people and your quaint little categories.

Yesterday, the words came. Finally. So it was not necessary to gouge my eyes out. I wrote 1,087 words on a piece that is, for now, called "Untitled Grotesque." It was not inspired by one of the suggestions, but I will set them all aside until Sirenia Digest #23, and if I use one then, the person who suggested it will receive a signed copy of the new paperback edition of Low Red Moon. Also yesterday, Spooky finished with the edits for the new edition of Tales of Pain and Wonder ("The Long Hall on the Top Floor," "San Andreas," "Mercury," "Lafayette," and "...Between the Gargoyle Trees") which means as soon I have have time to get to the final edits I have to do and finish "Salammbô Redux," we'll be truly done.

We walked a little past dusk last night, and in the wake of Humberto, the air had turned cool and crisp and smelled faintly of early autumn. Byron came over for Torchwood and didn't leave until midnight or so, so we also watched Fay Wray in two Michael Curtiz films, Doctor X (1932) and Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933), both in two-strip Technicolor. At some point, I glanced out the window and a young opossum (Didelphis virginiana) was perched in a tree, staring in at us. Spooky got a photo:



Cute little bugger.

I also wrote the third and final section of the "Shutting the Door" entry for Professor Nareth E. Nishi's journal, which, by the way, added another 1,104 words to yesterday's total word count. This week, I've been trying to pull back from Second Life, because while it might truly be the Best — Toy — Ever, I have also allowed it to consume far too much of my time. Yesterday, I didn't sign on until well after midnight, and only stayed inworld for a couple of hours. A vast improvement.

Okay. That's it for now, unless I would risk the wrath of the platypus...and I wouldn't.