greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,
greygirlbeast
greygirlbeast

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"Fill the night with stories. The legend grows."

There is a phrase that is not uttered in this house. That phrase dreaded by all authors. Especially authors with non-negotiable and constant deadlines. Especially when not meeting those deadlines means not being able to pay the bills. In this house, we simply refer to it as the "w-word." Which is to say, I'm struggling with the language. Yesterday, I must have written five or six hundred words, and threw them all away. And these are the very worst sort of writing days. The breathing space I thought I'd have this month is gone, because of this, yesterday and the dry week preceding it. Here I am again, running out of time. And staring into the uncertainty of the day. Oh, I also got some work done on the Secret Project yesterday.

I tried to write on Thursday, but to no avail. Friday brought warmer weather, and so I decided that it might help to leave the house. I'd not been out of the apartment in a week. I'm not supposed to do that anymore. The temperatures were forecast for the high sixties, and we drove to Beavertail. Along the way, more signs of spring. A few splashes of green in the trees. Skunk cabbages and cattails in all the boggy spots. The dogwoods are in bloom. But when we reached Beavertail, we discovered there was a rough sea and a ferocious wind off the bay, and the wind chill must have had the temperature at the point, below the lighthouse, down in the forties or lower. We tried the shore half a mile farther north, on the eastern side of the island, but the wind was still too brisk for comfort. We sat among the rocks for a little while, listening to the sea and watching the gulls and cormorants. And then we headed back inland. Oh, I almost forgot. Before Beavertail, we went to Wickford, to the Herb Wyfe, because there were things we needed. Wickford was warm, and we sat a while and watched the boats in the cove. I think the high for the day was in the low seventies. Unless you were at Beavertail. Today, the high will only be in the fifties. But, slowly, this winter is ending.

Then, yesterday...well, I covered that already.

Some good WoW last night, thanks to an invitation to a huge raiding party. We swept through the Eastern Kingdoms, from Menethil Harbor through the Wetlands, then up into the mountains via Dun Algaz, and hit the dwarves in Loch Modan. From there, we continued south, across the Blasted Lands, the Searing Gorge, through the lava-illumined halls of Blackrock Mountain and out again onto the Burning Steppes. Over the Redridge Mountians by way of the Blackrock Pass. We slaughtered everything in Lakeshire, then continued south into Duskwood. Darkshire met the same fate as Lakeshire. In Duskwood, we realized we were being trailed by two or three Alliance scouts, and we met considerable resistance after we crossed the river into Westfal. There was a marvelous battle below Sentinel Hill, after which we headed east again, into the Elwyn Forest, and we made our last stand in Goldshire. Our raiding party repelled wave after wave of Alliance pouring out of Stormwind Keep, but was finally vanquished by a force three times our size. It was pretty damn cool. And Suraa and Shaharrazad both got the "Know Thy Enemy" achievement, which we hadn't expected to ever earn.

A lot of reading the last few days. I'm working my way back through Lovecraft's "The Haunter of the Dark" and "The Dreamquest of Unknown Kadath." On the one hand, I think I appreciate the latter story more than I have in the past, but, on the other, it's surely one of HPL's stranger (and longest), and I'm wondering if anyone's ever tried reading it as a sort of Gulliver's Travels political satire. And there's been more from the latest Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, papers on the "rauisuchian" archosaur Batrachotomus kupferzellensis; the ontogeny of Stegosaurus; ontogenetic and taxonomic implications of pattern and transition of surficial bone texture of the centrosaurine frill; and Adeopapposaurus, a new prosauropod dinosaur from Argentina.

There are some photos from Friday, behind the cut. The platypus says it's time to..well, you know.





Wickford Cove, view to the southeast. I sort of want to live on this little boat.



Wickford Cove, view to the east.



Just north of the Beavertail Lighthouse (0.03 mi.), view to the southeast.



Same spot as above.



Farther north, half a mile from the lighthouse; view to the east.

Photographs Copyright © 2009 by Caitlín R. Kiernan and Kathryn A. Pollnac

Tags: gaming, hpl, not-writing, paleo, reading, rhode island, spring, the sea, witchcraft
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