"I'm going to take another fucking Benadryl," I say.
"Okay, but don't drink absinthe today," Spooky repiles.
"I won't," I assure her.
Not that I need too. I am so frelling stoned. But the antihistamines are helping a little with this goddamn cough.
Yesterday, I drank absinthe and wrote what's starting to look like the first three pages of Daughter of Hounds, a little more than 500 words. It starts out with the ghouls, Madam Terpsichore and her students, beneath the Old North Burial Ground in Providence. Familiar territory, but the words are coming very slowly. I'm still not 100% sure this is the right beginning. I tossed the first beginning, the one I began last week. But I do want this one to be the right one.
What else happened yesterday? Well, you know about the lucid dreaming. I'm a little disappointed that, out of all the LJ comments I got yesterday, only one person even mentioned the dream (thank you, Mellá). Everyone was too busy with the subject of The Naked Me, even though the dream was clearly the primary focus of yesterday's entry. But, like I said, sex is the Great Motivator. It'll make the mute talk and the blind see. Or does that go the other way 'round?
On the subject of the nude self-portraits, as of this morning the vote stands 109 for, 12 against. So, I know what most of you want, or, rather, I know what most of you who voted want. Now, I will think about it. There were some good points raised by the "no" camp, and Spooky thinks it's a bad idea, if only because the world is so full of assholes. I'll make a decision between now and tomorrow morning. My thanks to everyone who voted. This is oddly important to me.
Last night, Jennifer brought home chocolate cupcakes with which to celebrate my second lucid dream.
I offer the following from Gardner Dozois' annual "summation" of the SF market (from The Year's Best Science Fiction 21):
Therefore, I'm going to urge everyone reading these words to subscribe to your favorite SF or fantasy magazine, and to do it today, right now, before your good intentions get buried under the press of daily events and you forget about it. It's the one practical thing you can do to ensure the survival of a strong SF/fantasy market, with lots of diversity. And it's easier to subscribe to genre magazines today than ever before, as most of them have the capability to issue subscriptions online on their Web sites, with all that's called for a credit card and a few clicks of a button, with no stamps, no envelopes, and no trips to the post office required. Additionally, you can subscribe from overseas just as easily as you can from the United States, something formerly difficult-to-impossible. Internet sites such as Peanut Press and Fictionwise, sell downloadable versions of the magazines to be read on your PDA or PC, something becoming increasingly popular with the computer savvy set.
Dozois goes on to list the websites for Asimov's; Analog; The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction; and Interzone. Thing is, all these magazines continue to suffer losses in circulation. The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and Interzone each lost as much as 10% of their circulation last year. Both Asimov's and Analog, citing similar losses, are cuttiung their publishing schedules from eleven issues a year to only ten. Dozois writes, "This makes the upcoming year the first time since the launch of Weird Tales in 1923 that the field has officially been without a monthly fiction magazine." So, do a good deed. Buy a subscription. Support short fantastic fiction.
I would add something here about supporting "horror" magazines, as well, but, excepting Cemetery Dance, they were all killed off in the magazine mass-extinction events of the 1990s. They're long since dead as do-dos, or ceratopsian dinosaurs, or woolly frelling mammoths, or George W. Bush's charisma. Take your pick.
Blah, blah, blah. Did I mention that I'm stoned?
Well, I am.
I have to go try to write page four. Second verse, same as the first.