Yesterday is a sort of minefield, and to write about it means watching one's steps very, very carefully. So, I will write about it hardly at all. I will do my best to forget it.
There's no way around admitting the likelihood that Sirenia Digest #37 may be a day or two late. I'm not entirely sure why. I mean, besides the rotten, unpulled tooth and the insomnia. I spent four days on "There Are Kisses For Us All." But it has become very clear that if I rush the story to have it done in time for the December issue, I'll only ruin it. So, I'm shelving that piece and starting over. Also, one of the vignettes I'm doing this month will be based on a image by Vince Locke, the same way that I did for "Untitled 33" back in September. That is, we're reversing the usual order; I'm writing his image, instead of him illustrating my story. But Vince can't get the illustration to me until the 29th, because he's working on the Wands for a Tarot deck. I might be able to get #37 out on the 31st. Certainly, I will try. I despise being late. Regardless, I thank subscribers ahead of time for their patience.
I'm enjoying Kostova's The Historian. It's becoming one of those books I wish I'd written.
Yesterday, and into last night, the sound of snow sluffing and sliding free of rooftops punctuated the sound of rain. It was an odd, disquieting noise. A new one for me.
Harold Pinter is dead.
An acquaintance in England told me that, in a local bookshop, my books have been moved from "horror" to f/sf. That always pleases me.
After dinner (warmed-over Chinese), we watched Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) again. The film continues to amaze and please me, and I think it really is the best adaptation of Dracula to film that's been done. But this is in spite of Keanu Reeves. Every time I see the film, his attempt at Johnathan Harker becomes that much more absurd. Other than affecting a perfectly awful British accent, he does not even seem to try to act. Fortunately, Gary Oldman, Anthony Hopkins, and Tom Waits shine so brightly they make it fairly easy to ignore Reeves, as do the splendid visuals and Eiko Ishioka's costume design. I noticed for the first time last night that Mike Mignola worked as an illustrator on the film. It was, I see, his first film work.
Later, there was WoW. Suraa and Shaharrazad finished up some nasty business in Strangelthorn Vale, and traveled (by zeppelin, hearthstone, and bat) back to Tarren Mills, and then, on horseback, to the Hinterlands, where we slew giant white wolves and savage owlbeasts and retrieved an ogre's lost lunch. We've both made Lvl 45. I realized last night, for the first time, that much of the battleground stuff is, essentially a game of "capture the flag," which is very disappointing. Warfare becomes mere sport. Could Blizzard not have thought of something even a little more interesting? "Capture the flag" bored me in grammar school, and I doubt anything will have changed. Here's another missed opportunity to create gameplay that furthers a story (well, assuming there's a story to further; I see lots of "lore," and very little story). So, likely, I will avoid all the battleground stuff. Got a nice wand last night, though. Spooky and I try to devise little stories to explain why our characters are doing what they're doing, in an effort to force some narrative sense out of WoW.
Anyway...back to the word mines.