What a state to wait till eight

1. The release party for The Drowning Girl was a great deal of fun. I went down on the commuter rail, which gave me a beautiful view: late clear light throwing Wyeth shadows, that slightly milky blue sky that dusts down to green at the horizon. There was a daymoon over the roofs of Providence as I walked from the train station to the bookstore, hiking up Angell Street. (With no recourse to the internet! I got directions from the Amtrak ticket sellers and made up the rest. I felt very old-school. Or at least studenty.) There was discussion, reading, the book trailer, signing, and then greygirlbeast, humglum, readingthedark, (briefly Brian Evenson) and I all went out for really spectacular Indian food. Geoffrey drove me back to the train afterward and I read Vanessa Gebbie's The Coward's Tale (2011) on the way home. There was not nearly enough time for conversation, but it was good. I am also planning to attend Caitlín's signing next week at Pandemonium, as so should you. Go read her poem "Atlantis" in the meantime.

2. There is an exhibit at Bletchley Park called The Life and Works of Alan Turing. The future's too slow; we want teleportation now.

3. Courtesy of handful_ofdust: Roddy McDowall reads H.P. Lovecraft. "The Outsider" and "The Hound." He's perfect—that fine-pointed, high-strung voice. I feel I must reciprocate by offering James Mason with "The Tell-Tale Heart."

4. Tiny Wittgenstein seems to have been temporarily replaced by Tiny Cast of Several Musical Comedies. Or maybe he's just hanging out on the other shoulder, enjoying the dance numbers. (Am so going to New York in April to see this, I should mention.)

5. You can wake yourself up really quickly eating leftover vindaloo for breakfast, especially if it turns out it was left over for capsaicin-related reasons.