Dear Sweet Filthy World

Sunny again today, but still with some clouds. Our high was, and presently is (so our high so far), 87˚F, with the heat index at 92˚F.

I woke at six this morning, which was earlier than I'd intended. But what the fuck, I'd gotten to sleep by midnight, so I figured I'd get up, have some breakfast, then get to work. And, instead, I fell the fuck back to sleep and woke at 8 a.m. Because I am a creature of excruciating habit, or excruciatingly a creature of habit, this threw the whole day into a less than productive tailspin. I finally gave up and played Guild Wars 2 and tried not the think about the words I did not get written today.

What am I writing? Fuck it, I'll tell you. The novel is called The Night Watchers, and it is essentially a new and more supernatural incarnation of the novel that would have been Interstate Love Song (based on the short-story of the same title). I really like it, all of it that's in my head, and that's a lot of it. If I can quit fucking around, it could be done by the end of the summer. The print and ebook versions will be published by Subterranean Press, and hopefully there will be an audiobook. Likely there will. It's set mostly in and around north-central Alabama, but spans many, many decades. The title is borrowed from Peter Straub's Ghost Story, one of my favorite books of all time, ever.

But you knew that about me and Ghost Story. I mean, if you are one of those Constant Readers.

But I gotta admit, balancing the fiction, no matter how much I like the novel at hand, with the sudden and marvelous paleontology opportunities is a challenge. But. Fiction keeps the rent paid and the lights on and food on the table. Paleontology just, you know, makes me feel like I'm doing what I was put on earth to do. And it's all sort of ironic. For me - as frustrating as I might find it, as much as I would usually rather be doing something else - writing is easy as pie. On the other hand, paleontology is fucking hard work – and I'm not talking about physically demanding fieldwork and fossil preparation. I'm talking about the intellectual rigor, discipline, and plain ol' smarts involved. So, I'm going to be busting my butt to do the fairly easy thing that pays the bills to earn the luxury of busting my butt to do the very hard thing that pays not one red cent. Irony. But, that said, I am just grateful for both opportunities, at this point in my life and at this point in history.

By the way, SubPress has announced Vile Affections (and the accompanying chapbook Cambrian Tales), and you may see the cover. In fact, you can now place preorders! Right here. Note: Only those who bought the signed numbered edition of Comes a Pale Rider may preorder the signed numbered edition of Vile Affections at this time. Anyone may preorder the trade hardcover.

And here's some crap I posted today to Twitter and Facebook:

I'm just waiting for one of these anti-COVID vaccine yahoos to realize that, in effect, every time they use any medication they are – in the eyes of pharmaceutical companies and medical science – essentially guinea pigs or lab rats or Rhesus monkeys, FDA approval or no.

~ and ~

Fact: When you are so afraid that you can only win an election when fewer people vote, so you try to make it harder and harder for folks to vote, especially those whom you suspect won't vote for you, you've failed democracy.

~ and this, which someone else said and which I retweeted ~

Let's perfectly clear...Democrats do not want to de-fund the police. Dems want to demilitarize and de-brutalize the police.

I leave you with my level 80 holosmith (an elite engineering specialization), Mandy J. Wolowitz (née Hansen), at Timberline Falls. Yes, she has a lightsaber.

Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast




3:50 p.m.

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Sunny today, but the weather is still cool. Not as cool as yesterday, but cool. It is currently 77˚F, and it's heartening that there's a heat index, even if it only raises things to 78˚F.

Every scientist out there doing field work, of whatever sort, today I envy you all.

After getting two issues of the digest out yesterday and considering the mountain of work I need to get through before returning to McWane, I decided to give myself a one- or two-day vacation. Oh, and I'm celebrating the fact that it has been two weeks, as of today, since Kathryn and I got our second shots, so our immunity it likely at about 90%, as good as we can currently hope for. Yes, I am going to continue to be careful, obviously. I will still mask when I go out, especially in indoor spaces. I will avoid public restrooms when I can. And so forth. But I am going to start allowing myself to go back out into the world, to parks and libraries and shops and the market and such. Normal shit. There are a number of museum collections I need to try and visit before the years out, for various research projects (the Field Museum, the Peabody, etc.), so there's that. We were supposed to visit Spooky's parents last September, so that trip needs to happen soon. And I am going to start getting takeout, glorious takeout. Dreamland and Rusty's BBQ, Five Guys, Milo's, Chinese, and so forth. Kathryn and I have saved many hundreds, probably thousands, of dollars the last 13.5 months, just not ever getting takeout. It was an eyeopener. Laziness in the kitchen is damn expensive.

But yes, today was mostly a day off. I even slept until about 8:45 a.m., when I'm usually away by 6 a.m. I spent most of the day playing GW2. I ought to make myself go outside.

Later Taters,
Aunt Beast




4:30 p.m.

We're having cooler weather. We only made it to 70˚F, but it was mostly sunny.

I'm trying to work, trying to write. I have to get the ms. for Vile Affections, my next short-story collection, to Subterranean Press by November 1st. I have to speak with my agent this week. I'm choosing readers for the Tales of Pain and Wonder audiobook.

There was another grilled-cheese sandwich for dinner, but this one had baloney.

Halloween has begun in GW2.

Later,
Aunt Beast




4:41 p.m.

Day after day after day after day after day after day.

Self isolation. Quarantine. Fear.

Despair.

I swear to fuck, I can't remember what I did today.

I worked on the cave matrix some. I watched TV and played GW2. There was RP in SL. All those abbreviations. Dinner was a can of Campbell's soup.

Later,
Aunt Beast




12:50 p.m.

Rain. Rain. Torrential rain. Thank you, Delta.

Another mostly unremarkable day. No afternoon comfort film. GW2, instead. I only get comfort films on weekdays.

Part of the day was spent studying the lithological and chemical signatures of low-oxygen and anoxic conditions in marine and esturine environments.

I left the house for the first time since September 11th. And hyperventilated the whole time.

We're blowing through The Big Bang Theory.

Later,
Aunt Beast




11:49 a.m.

Today was better, all in all. I slept a little more last night, for one thing. It was a little warmer, 87˚F with the heat index, and that helped, too. Currently, it's 72˚F.

I went back to avoiding the news, and that also made a difference. It always does.

I was even sort of productive. I read over and did some revision to "Standing Water," a story that I wrote way back in 2000. A twenty-year-old story that Tor.com is doing an audio version of, and I got them to let me tidy it up a little more first. I'm still not crazy about the language. I mean, I don't write like that anymore, and I look at a story from then and, well, at least I was writing better in 2000 than I was in 1994. Still, the core of "Standing Water" is good and solid weird. I still love the concept, almost enough to rewrite the story (and I pretty much never rewrite anything). And the mood's good. And it's a snapshot of a Birmingham that no longer exists, a much more authentic Birmingham, the one I loved.

So, there was that, and then Kathryn helped me get the new exhaust fan in the window, so the prep area is pretty much fully functional now. And why has it not occurred to me before today to call Winifred "Winnie"?

There was more GW2, and that was actually good, too. Oh, and a new Phoebe Bridgers album, Punisher, released to Spotify (and maybe other places) one day early. I listened to it all day. I'm listening to it right now. I'm not sure I love it as much as Stranger in the Alps, but it'll probably grow on me. And I went outside for about five minutes. I washed my favorite Frozen t-shirt by hand. Kathryn and I spent the evening watching television.

I've had much worse days recently.

Later,
Aunt Beast




5:04 p.m.

Cooler weather again today, but things are warming back up beginning tomorrow. Our high today was only 81˚F, with the heat index. Currently, it's a chilly 69˚F.

And, once again, I slept no more than about four hours.

I sorta (but only sorta) miss the old days when I allowed myself to drone on here about more private and personal matters. Like depression. Because right now, yeah, it's pretty fucking bad. Of course, talking never helps. I know that. But years of therapy have instilled in me a knee-jerk belief to the contrary. Of course talking helps! Why else would people pay therapists? Or have priests? Or...anyway.

Plus, because I am an idiot and an utter masochist, I allowed myself to look at the news today. Because it isn't bad enough that I'm already struggling with my usual background levels of depression, anxiety, dread, and despair. No, I gotta go adding the latest on a zoonotic pandemic, the imminent collapse of Western civilization, the largest global recession since the Great Depression, and lots of fun shit like that. So, whee. That was my day. I didn't write. I didn't prep. I didn't write paleo. I didn't do diddly squat.

Oh, except I logged into GW2 for the first time in three weeks.

I feel as if we have all been sentenced to a very strange and lingering death. That's what I said to Spooky when we were out walking around the building in the twilight (just before I took the photo of the very obliging Leptoglossus phyllopus, below).

I also went with Kathryn to Walgreens and the market today. Did I mention whee? At least most people were wearing their masks, the new pink.

Okay. Enough wallowing. For tonight, at least.

Later Taters,
Aunt Beast




6:23 p.m.

And it rained all damn day. An ugly, chilly drizzle. Our high was a miserly 71˚F, and it's now 69˚F. Tomorrow will be almost as bad.

Oh, but yes, it was my birthday. And the morning was actually pretty good, though I didn't sleep much last night. This morning I opened presents and watched my favorite parts of Frozen II and...then I was utterly underwhelmed by the new "Living Story" chapter of GW2 and everything went to hell. Okay, I don't think I can actually blame GW2. There was also having to put my foot down and telling a publisher no, I will not learn Acrobat to deal with an electronic ARC. And there was the aforementioned rain. And a thousand other murderously depressingly things which shall here not be named, all catching up with me at once. So, I kind of slipped after about 1 p.m. or so. But Spooky made Dreamland chicken and taters and corn and there was a modest cake with one candle and we watched a bunch of RuPaul's Drag Race. I wouldn't say I feel better now, but I'm calm.

And it makes me feel shitty. All the people who wished me well today and who sent me gifts and Spooky did so much and...I just couldn't feel great all day.

I think that's enough for now.

Later,
Aunt Beast




6:30 p.m.

Not a wretched day. Not a good day. I forgot to go outside. But it was warm and mostly sunny. We reached 86˚F, and it's still 76˚F. My window's open. I hope there are a lot of cicadas this year.

Today is Selwyn's eighth birthday.

Being away from McWane is truly wearing on me, maybe worse than any of the rest of this mess. I need to be doing prep. I need to be doing science. I need the lab about me.

This morning I finished my re-read of Mark Frost's The Secret History of Twin Peaks. I answered email from Subterranean Press and Writers House. With the latter, I approved cover art and discussed potential readers for the forthcoming audiobook of Agents of Dreamland. I watched episodes of RuPaul's Drag Race in the middle of the day. I played GW2. I ate. Tonight, Kathryn and I watched David Mirkin's Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion (1997). I'd never seen it. Damn, what a weird fucking movie.

That was my day.

And speaking of Twin Peaks, soon I'll tell you about Twin Peaks: Rocket 88, a just-for-fun vanity project I've been playing with during lockdown.

Also, from my Facebook today:

It always surprises me – in a good way – when people make me realize that I'm actually not cynical.

~ and ~

I hope fervently, though perhaps naively, that I will live to see the day when Americans finally shed their long and abiding distrust of science, so that future crises whose solutions so depend on trusting scientists and their advices (such as the Covid-19 epidemic) can be more efficiently, safely, and sanely navigated. When functioning properly, science is, by definition, apolitical, which of course means that it's not in the business of telling us what we want to hear or shoring up our belief systems. It's about trying to get at the truth of things, independent of political agendas. Over all my years, I have known as many conservative-minded scientists as liberally minded scientists, in many fields.

Later,
Aunt Beast




1:33 p.m.

One day I will do my Gordon Cole cosplay.

Sunny today, but I didn't make it outside. Outside. Our high was a paltry 73˚F. But we might reach just shy of 80˚F. That's almost seasonal. Currently, it's 57˚F.

I have received several kind comments on "The Great Bloody and Bruised Veil of the World," and that's cool, but it seems no one noticed (or is just to polite to mention that) I fucked up and numbered the issue's cover 70 instead of 170. I'll be producing a second "printing" and sending it out to subscribers ASAP.

You know, fuck this broken tooth. I just want McWane back.

Today? I didn't start a new story. But yesterday I started my re-read of Jeff VanderMeer's Authority. And I'm playing a lot of GW2.

Oh, and there's Second Life.

And very fucking soft food.

----

As of tonight, the ADPH has confirmed 6,539 cases of Covid-19 in Alabama, with 839 cases in Jefferson County and 318 cases in Shelby County.

Later,
Aunt Beast (Gender Neutral Albino of Gor)




1:23 p.m. (yesterday)