The business with the Locus review of The Dry Salvages was resolved last night. It's neither the best nor the worst review I've ever received. I may post it here, later. I'm just grateful the whole thing didn't drag on forever, as I feared it would. I am sort of amazed and annoyed at how bent out of shape I get about reviews published in trade and genre magazines that neither I nor the majority of my readers read. It's Kirkus Syndrome, and it's very damn silly.
This frelling cough is trying to kill me, I kid you not.
Neil called about an hour ago, somewhere on the road. It was a very bad connection. I think I heard more static than I heard Neil.
Kindernacht last night. We rented two films I'd never heard of and for which I had absolutely no expectations. Close You Eyes (aka, Doctor Sleep, 2002; directed by Nick Willing) was a so-so sort of occult thriller with a few chilling moments. Death and the Compass (1992, directed by Alex Cox) was an utterly baffling, notably dull adaptation of a Borges story. I expect more from Alex Cox, and I find myself unable to recommend either film. Afterwards, I played Armed and Dangerous until three a.m.
I'm fighting the urge to get drunk and see Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow again. Right now, that's the best thing I can imagine doing with today.
But I fear there are things I probably need to do, instead. Crap. Sometimes, I really miss the long-lost irresponsibility of my youth.