Yesterday, we read all the way through "The Colliers' Venus (1893)," and proofread it. It really is something different. Not on purpose. I didn't set out to write what is an unusual story for me. It came with such great difficulty. Looking at the whole thing, it just sort of stupifies me. That's not a bad thing. Those things which baffle us are among those things we should cling to, as understanding comes from the absence of understanding. Yeah, right. I'm far too asleep to be talking like Yoda. I emailed the story to Sonya (sovay) after making all the corrections Spooky and I caught, and as soon as I fix the mistakes Sonya found, I'll email it to the editor. And move along to the new vignette for Sirenia Digest #36. No rest for the wicked and wordy.
I got sketches from Vince Locke last night for his A is for Alien illustrations. They're looking gorgeous. You can see the rough sketch (which will be the basis for the inked illustration) for "A Season of Broken Dolls" behind the cut (kind of bloody huge, because I'm still too groggy to resize images). The book will have one illustration by Vince for each story:
Copyright © 2008 by Vincent Locke
I answered an email yesterday from someone who's writing a book on Alabama paleontology and wanted more information on the velociraptorine dromaeosaurid (Dinosauria, Theropoda) tooth from the Mooreville Chalk that I described back in May 2004 (well, actually, the paper was written in 2001, I think, but published in May 2004). And then, instead of finishing the read-through on The Red Tree, I rebelled and decided to go shopping. Yes, shopping. I'm trying the remedy the ills that come of not buying clothes for years and years. Honest to fuck, I have clothes from 1998 that I still think of as new. I have clothes from 1994 I still wear frequently. Of course, this is the way things ought to be. Things should be made to last. We should not feel compelled to buy new clothes (or cars or computers or cell phones or what the hell ever) to stay fashionable. But, and still, my Deep South wardrobe was hardly suited to New England, so certain additions are being made.
I had dinner at a food court for the first time since...I don't know, honestly. Many years. It was a bit surreal. Too many people and bright lights and noise. Anyway, I left the mall with only two turtlenecks and a used copy of the Editors' An End Has a Start (2007). The latter won't help to keep me warm, just sane. Seriously, in 2008 I have made two great musical discoveries: Sigur Rós and the Editors. If you have not heard the Editors, do so. Brilliant, beautiful stuff.
Last night, we watched the remainder of Season One of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. I was particularly impressed with the last ep, "What He Beheld." Once again, Johnny Cash helps to make something more creepifying. Also, Spooky and I realized that the actor playing "Vic" is the same actor who played both Francis Wolcott and Jack McCall on Deadwood (as well as Ed Miller in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and Deputy Wendell in No Country for Old Men). Anyway, looks like we're going to break down and watch Season Two on Hulu, as it will be forever before the Season Two DVDs are out, given the season is not even finished.
I dozed off about 2:30 a.m. to Spooky reading me The Fellowship of the Ring, which is a fine way to end a day.