That werewolf comes driving by in a Chevy

So the deal with this week is that since Monday I've been dealing with unusually severe amounts of pain, with the predictable result that my stamina is in bad shape and so is my sleep schedule. Earlier this week I dreamed of translating poetry in a burning city in winter; I got out of bed at four in the morning to write the poem down. Then I fell back asleep and dreamed that Quentin Tarantino was talking to me about film as we walked around Boston with his nonexistent sister, who was shooting location footage for a movie of her own and barely said two words to me. Last night's dreams were all body horror full of rot and infestation and classes I didn't sign up for. I've been sleeping between seven and ten hours a night, but I feel as though I'm spacing through most of my days. I would like to be writing about several things I find interesting. That is not happening right now.

1. Courtesy of strange_selkie: cuneiform gingerbread tablets. I approve profoundly.

2. The Strange Horizons Readers' Poll for 2015 is now open! Please vote for your favorite stories, poems, articles, columnists, reviewers, and artworks from 2015. There are some serious contenders this year.

3. I was very struck by this poem: Heid E. Erdrich, "True Myth."

I will post my schedule for Arisia soon.