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I am with name...

Er, I think yesterday is what I call a train wreck. Workwise, and just about every other sort of wise. No, not a train wreck. That's an exaggeration. Yesterday was unable to summon the requisite ambition to become a train wreck. More like a mystifying waste.

I edited Saturday's pages from Chapter Two of Joey Lafaye, and then I sat and stared at the iMac's screen for, well, I don't know. A long time. But whatever comes next would not show itself to me. And in the empty space left by the absence of writing, self doubt began to accumulate. Am I writing a book I shouldn't be writing? Is this going to be a disaster? Has my desire to write something genuinely different from all I have written before only led me into a cage? Those sorts of questions.

All the while, these two guys sat on my desk and stared at me:





Ignatius (left) and Sweet William (right)



And finally, Spooky came into my office, and we talked about the book, and the characters, and why I was having so much trouble. Maybe that helped. Maybe it didn't. I don't yet know. But nothing new was written, except for the aforementioned edits. Finally, at about 5 p.m., I'd had enough and read "Ashputtle, or the Mother's Ghost: Three Versions of One Story" (1987) by Angela Carter and "The Women" (1948) by Ray Bradbury (from the fine new subpress edition of I Sing the Body Electric!; thank you, Bill). I wanted to read something by Shirley Jackson, but after those two stories, my eyes were burning too badly. I don't know why I can stare at the computer or television without eye pain, but reading gets me almost immediately. Instead of Shirley Jackson, I had a hot bath and finally got warm. I ate a can of ravioli. I suppose some people might have called that lunch. I puttered about the house, and I stared out at ugly, unmelted clumps of snow. I got an email from Jessica and Rogue that I need to answer. An aimless, randomness seemed to hang over the day. Spooky got takeaway "urban food logs" for dinner (a euphemism for burritos I stole from docbrite).

After dinner, I finished editing a transcript from a recent Second Life Dune roleplay. You can read it here, if you're up for such a thing. The part of Shahrazad is played by me. Then Spooky and I watched what was surely one of the absolute worst movies I have ever had the misfortune to sit all the way through. I admit I have not chronicled the film-making career of Ulli Lommel, and only knew him from his somewhat effective 1973 Die Zärtlichkeit der Wölfe (The Tenderness of Wolves). Anyway, the Ulli Lommel film we watched last night was Zombie Nation (2004), and, well, I'm still a little amazed we sat through all 81 minutes of the thing. The whole mess appeared to have been filmed in a warehouse, there was no evidence of a script, and no one actually bothered to act. The zombie makeup consisted of smudged eyeliner. At the very end, say the last three minutes, the film seemed to decide it must be a comedy, because what the hell else could it be. And Lionsgate is actually distributing this drek. Anyway, after that, there was a little more Second Life, as I struggled to avoid sleep for as long as possible.

Please have a look at the current eBay autions. Danke.

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow in Birmingham, but I doubt I'll make it. I just don't see that happening. When I am toothless, someone remind me of my indifference.

Okay. Coffee, and the platypus is sharpening hisherit's spurs, and Sweet William and Iggy are staring at me.

Comments

( 6 comments — Have your say! )
docbrite
Jan. 21st, 2008 08:24 pm (UTC)
Spooky got takeaway "urban food logs" for dinner (a euphemism for burritos I stole from docbrite).

The credit actually goes to tjcrowley.
greygirlbeast
Jan. 21st, 2008 08:52 pm (UTC)

The credit actually goes to tjcrowley.

Ohhhhhhhhhh. Well, I got it from you. But I stand corrected.
nokomis1339
Jan. 21st, 2008 08:50 pm (UTC)
I see you too have fallen into the small hell that is seeing Ulli Lommel movies. I believe he set out last year to break a world record for most movies made in one year and was aiming to do fourty or some such, but he fortunately only managed six.

After seeing his Green River Killer and trying to fall asleep durring it because he managed to make a man who strangles prostitutes boring my fiance and I vowed that we would never watch another of his movies again. Sadly we rented The Raven as the tape store had put a sticker over his name on the case (I suspect this may have been intentional). After the word, "Satan" and, "666" was scribbled across the sky with a program no more high-tech than paint for the third time we started contemplating if it was worth it to break the disk and pay the fee in the name of the greater good. As we both enjoy renting bad horror movies to laugh at them we are now over-cautius to make sure we don't accidently bespoil our eyes with his work again. I urge you to take care, as he has only gotten worse with time.

~L~
deekskusting
Jan. 22nd, 2008 01:32 pm (UTC)
My sister-in-law once had a cat named Sweet William!
aetherialrumors
Jan. 22nd, 2008 08:17 pm (UTC)
Just to comment on something no one else mentioned--I noticed your smokes. I have such a love hate relationship with cigarettes. They're like that deranged ex, the one who stabbed you in the leg once after a long night of drinking and you can't help going back to them because the sex was just so good and they know how to find that little black place inside where you all your self-destructive tendacies lay in wait.

Best of luck, sending the Camels packing again. Until then, enjoy the smokes...
jacobluest
Jan. 23rd, 2008 02:04 am (UTC)
Have you seen Chris Anthony's work? It reminds me of your stuff.





~Jacob
( 6 comments — Have your say! )