I did a meager 553 words on "Bradbury Weather" yesterday. I seem to be mired in a scene. I think I shall get nothing written today. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a good writing day. I'm tired of forcing myself, forcing the words, and I'm backing off today. Total word count on the story now stands at 6,226, when it "should" (by my own admittedly warped expectations) be closer to 8,026 by now. For the want of a nail, right? Anyway, it seems unlikely at this point that I'll finish this story before Dragon*Con, as I'd hoped.
Apparently, some online booksellers have already received copies of Murder of Angels, and some people have already received their pre-ordered copies. That's about two weeks ahead of schedule, as the book's street date is September 7th. I don't expect to see it in book stores until then.
Taking Lives was an odd film, poorly paced, seemingly at a loss for identity, and clumsy in the presentation and resolution of its central mystery. The last ten minutes weren't too bad. Ethan Hawke did the best he could, considering, and Angelina Jolie, though a joy to look at, was clearly moving on autopilot. Afterwards, I played a little Morrowind, but not much. I've taken on the task of ridding Vos of a coven of troublesome necromancers, put I'm having trouble locating the woman who I've agreed to aid in the task. Nar'eth the Dunmer isn't so different from Nar'eth the Nebari. Basically, she gets paid to fuck people up and has no problems killing when asked and paid well. It's an interesting alter-ego I've unleashed. There's no pretext at nobility and justification, and moral quandaries are non-existent. She's very practical about these things. I fell asleep about two a.m., and Spooky played until three.
Speaking of Nebari, Spooky worked on her makeup yesterday. It's coming along, as you can see from the photo below.