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No, there's been no writing. And what the fuck point is there in making an entry about how there's been no writing since I finished "The Eighth Veil," way back on the ninth? Not a whole lot. At least I have moved beyond lying in bed, and have actually spent the last two days at the keyboard not writing. Somehow, that entails slightly less guilt than not writing from bed. Less guilt, more frustration. My masochistic "soul" probably figures the pain incurred staring at the blank MS Word "page" earns me less guilt. It's not writing, but at least it's another sort of suffering, so I'm cut some slack.

I will try again today. Today, I will try harder than I tried yesterday.

The snow hasn't all melted away, but it's going fast.

I admit I have paused in my not writing to gaze in horror at the internet kerfuffle surrounding Evelyn Evelyn. I know people are stupid, but sometimes I forget just how stupid people can be, especially on the goddamn internet. I've really had enough of the good soldiers of the web, fighting their ignorant, petty wars for truth, light, and squeamish political correctness. Spooky came into the office, night before last, to try and tell me about the people flaming Amanda over the Evelyn Evelyn backstory. And it's not often I'm rendered speechless, but speechless was I rendered. Finally, I was able to sputter something like, "These fuckwits know Ziggy Stardust was really David Bowie, right?" Yeah, it's that stupid. There are people who live to be offended, to disapprove. And no, I'm not linking to the stupid. If you want to see, use Google.

Life's to goddamn short for this nonsense. To quote Jeffrey Goines, "Fuck the bozos!"

Well, at least I do have these photographs, the railroad bridge photos I promised day before yesterday. I will refer you to Daughter of Hounds. If you have the trade paperback, you may turn to page 238. If you have the paperback, it's page 205. If you have the trade paperback and the paperback, I love you.

The old railroad drawbridge over the Seekonk River; view to the northeast.

View to the northeast.

Photographs Copyright © 2010 by Caitlín R. Kiernan.


Feb. 18th, 2010 07:36 pm (UTC)
Re: lost days
She is an angel, if there are such beings.

And we all know what cocksuckers angels are...

Edited at 2010-02-18 07:36 pm (UTC)
Feb. 18th, 2010 07:57 pm (UTC)
Re: lost days

oh, you have this way of taking the words right out of my mouth.
Though I was going to say something more along the lines of angels being devils in disguise.
Feb. 18th, 2010 08:01 pm (UTC)
Re: lost days
Ah, yes, thought you'd say something like that. Matt would agree and has waxed poetic in his descriptions of the "filthy feathered things" poking us and bothering us. Of course, I definitely wasn't casting aspersions upon Spooky because my vision of angels is, although not all sweetness and light, an appreciation. Besides, without the dark side of things, where would the creation come from? It is good to find peace now and then, though. Sending you same...