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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Another better day, despite the damn rain. I just stayed inside and didn't look out the windows. Currently, it's 46˚F, with a windchill of 44˚F.

Today, I addressed my Christmas cards, then went back to work on "Seven Dreams" (and I have got to find a new title) and did 1,108 words. Also, I went back to work on the glyptosaur paper and read "The taxonomy, chronostratigraphy, and paleobiogeography of glyptosaurine lizards (Glyptosaurinae, Anguidae)."

And then Spooky and I played the Winter's Day stuff in Guild Wars 2, and then I had RP, and then a rather late dinner, and...god, I'm a nerd.

I know. Just shut up and look at the dolyaks.

Later, Said the Nerd,
Caitlín




4:40 p.m.

An only mostly cloudy day, and rain again tonight. Currently, it's 70˚F.

Today, I began a new vignette for Sirenia Digest 160. I did 1,107 words.

Tonight, after GW2 and hot dogs, we watched Justin Kelly's JT Leroy (2019), which, despite a good performance by Laura Dern, fails to measure up to the documentaries and the actual weirdness, sleaze, and scandal of the genuine events. Oh, and speaking of GW2, I forgot to note that my latest character, Mandy Hansen, a human engineer, reach Level 80 yesterday. I've discovered the Holosmith specialization is pretty cool.

Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thanks.

Later Taters,
CRK




8:51 p.m.

This morning, I woke from the sort of dream that's a nightmare, even though you get one of your fondest fucking dreams. Waking up makes of it a nightmare. And that's how the day began for me, right about 7 a.m. I might have slept five hours, despite the pills I take to help me sleep. I got up and pissed and immediately took the photo for this entry.

I haven't mentioned that The Cough is back. Like usual, it rode the coattails of a cold (though any prolonged throat irritation can set it off), as it has been doing since about 1987.

Today, I did 1,024 words on a piece for Sirenia Digest 159 that I'm calling "Metamorphosis C." And then I cleaned some fossil bones (probably turtle) and tried to make sense of them.

I went to Publix with Spooky.

I played a little GW2, still leveling Mandy Hansen.

There was a short nap before dinner.

It was sunny, with a high of 79˚F.

Tonight, two movies. We started with Ridley Scott's Alien: Covenant (2017), which I liked better than I did in the theater, but which still isn't the film he'd wanted to make (Paradise) and which should rightfully have followed Prometheus, and that whole last half hour could have been blown out the airlock, with any number of other clichés weighing the film down. But damn, it's pretty to look at. The second feature was a delightfully askew thing directed by Mitzi Peirone called Braid (2018). Imagine if Dame Darcy were trying to make a film from We Have Always Lived in the Castle, but she kept getting it confused with Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. Sorta.

Oh, and night before last we watched the first three episodes of Fosse/Verdon, but, for me, Roy Scheider will always be Bob Fosse.

Yeah, today didn't suck as bad as the last two did.

Once again, please check out this Very Special Ebay Auction we've got going on. Subterranean Press is letting us action ONE and ONLY ONE advance-reading copy of their forthcoming edition of Houses Under the Sea: Mythos Tales before the book is released. And I'm going to emeblish many of the pages with doodles of Lovecraftian-ish monstrosities and prehistoric critters (like trilobites, ammonites, and crinoids). All proceeds go to shit not being free. The auction ends on Sunday, before Game of Thrones.

Later Taters,
CRK




7:09 a.m.

Another very fine and sunny spring day. We reached the mid seventies again.

And it was a decentish day off. I had a little email this morning, and then Spooky and I ran errands – Walgreens, Target, the market (I got a new laundry hamper, whee). I played a lot of GW2, and made my twentieth toon (!), a new engineer, human, named Mandy Hansen, and leveled her to 15. I watched some really bad TV. Ate cornflakes, then a can of Progresso soup for dinner. And that was my day off.

Tomorrow, it's back to work.

Later Po'Taters,
CRK




5:57 p.m.