Friday, May 30, 2003
A strange mood I am in this morning. Not as glum and angry as I've been of late (don't worry, kiddies; this too shall pass), but, I don't know. Something else. Something flighty. Something . . . strange. I was just reading the livejournal of Sherilyn Connelly (My Face for the World to See), an acquaintance of mine who lives in San Francisco. Sherilyn's diary always makes me curiously nostalgic. She still lives in The World and I admire that. I suspect I abandoned The World a long time ago. We've traveled a lot of the same ground, I think. And it always makes me feel odd to read other people's online thingies. I hardly ever do it. Only when I'm in the same sort of mood of which I was speaking. So, anyway, this will be a long and rambly, going-nowhere-in-particular sort of entry. Forgive me.
Ryan Obermeyer sent me what I think will be the final version of his cover for Low Red Moon. It's absolutely beautiful, like a single frame of the film that played in my mind as I wrote the novel. I'll post it somewhere, and put a link here, as soon as I can. Dr. Jack Morgan (The Biology of Horror) also sent me the final draft of his introduction for the Subterranean Press edition. It's very peculiar, having an academician write about me before I'm even dead.
I wrote 1,051 words on Chapter Four of Murder of Angels yesterday. I hope this novel sells Spanish translation rights, if only because the title sounds so pretty in Spanish.
Bill Schafer (Subterranean Press) asked, the other day, if I'd be interested in putting out a CD of Death's Little Sister material. I declined, because I don't have access to the DAT's of our 1996 recording sessions and a transfer from cassette would be atrocious. Moreover, I don't exactly own the songs. The copyright thing gets tangled up with music. I wrote the lyrics and sometimes helped with the vocal melodies, but Michael Graves and Barry Dillard wrote most of the music. And I have no idea where those guys have gone.
Last night, Kathryn and I toyed with my Nebari costume a little (this is the part of the entry resvered for the worst sort of geekery). I've replaced the kneepads with leg shields that extend from the tops of my feet to just above my knees. Each one weighs about 2.5 pounds, leather and steel, and is a bit like having a saddle strapped around each leg. We're also remaking the gauntlets to eliminate some design problems, and I'll be adding a replica pulse pistol (courtesy Dreamland Replicas), utility belt, and holster. I guess this will be Na'reth Version 1.5. She is a work in progress. I've actually found the costuming to be a very effective means of reducing stress. And, what the fuck, it's fun.
Spooky and I are currently reading Mark Helprin's A Winter's Tale (1981), which I've somehow managed to never get around to before now. It's the sort of novel I'd probably write if I were a much better novelist.
That's enough ramble for one day, I think. Oh. The chocolate-coloured doll arm Spooky found a couple of days ago turned out to be filled with ants. That was kind of wonderfully grotesque, like something from Jan Svankmajer's Alice.
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