Yesterday, I did 1,208 words on "Metamorphosis C." I thought this story would have sort of a Cronenberg feel, and, instead, so far, it's entirely different. Filled with a sort of cold, quiet menace. A sort of resignation. More Stanislaw Lem, by way of William Gibson, maybe.
Last night, after a takeaway dinner of hot and sour soup, egg drop soup, and steamed dumplings, we watched Kenneth Branagh's recent production of As You Like It (2006). It was nice, set in 19th Century Japan, and I have a weakness for anachronistic takes on Shakespeare. Later, there was WoW, of course. Voimakas, my Draenei hunter, and Jalokivi, Spooky's Draenei shaman. But for some reason, we took a quest from the Stonetalon Mountains that meant running, running, running south, all the way through the Barrens, into the Thousand Needles, and finally to the eastern border of Feralas. I think we spent an hour and a half simply running. Still, Voimakas made Lvl 29. And got a better sword off a dead harpy. So it wasn't all slog.
I got to bed about 2:30 ayem, and slept an amazing eight and a half hours (this is my brain, telling me it's exhausted).
If you haven't already, please, please, please preorder A is for Alien. I'm quite sure this will be one of my best books to date. Which is to say, I am especially proud of it.