Wednesday, January 09, 2002
I wrote half a sentence of Low Red Moon today. Yippee. I recall a story that one of my college professors told us about a woman at a party asking James Joyce how much he'd written that day on Ulysses and he replied, "One word. One perfect word." I wish my half sentence was perfect. It isn't. I also wrote most of a short story sort of thing about Death's Little Sister, my old band, for a Subterranean Press project, though, and went to two libraries. So the day wasn't a total waste.
There's a very nice review of Threshold in the new issue of The Sentimentalist, which declares it a debut novel. I thought it was very nice of them to hit the reset button like that for me. It almost made me feel a few years younger. Anyway, if you haven't seen The Sentimentalist, I strongly recommend it (and not just because they liked my first novel, Threshold). Since the demise of the late, great Carpe Noctem, it's the best thing of its sort being published in the U.S. For instance, this issue has an article by Projekt's Sam Rosenthal about Klaus Kinski, a piece on the fallacies surrounding absinthe, an article on Art Deco jewelry, interviews with Rasputina, Unto Ashes, Holy Cow, Damon Alburn of Gorrilaz (and Blur), and about a gazillion reviews. All things dark and decadent. Check out the magazine's website at:
The Sentimentalist
Now, having done my good deed for the night, I must retire into the eldritch shadows of my bathroom to find some delicious cherry-flavored Tums or Rolaids or Mylanta or somesuch chalky horror, because I've been drinking coffee all night and my stomach sucks.
Tomorrow I'll try to finish Chapter One. But I ain't making no promises.
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