In quae miracula verteris?
I spent most of today in recovery from finishing my afterword for Caitlín R. Kiernan's third collection of weird erotica, Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart. I thought I had budgeted a reasonable deadline for even my current levels of exhaustion, but it ate my weekend and most of my week—if I hadn't been planning on Collaborators since August, I'd have gone nowhere Thursday night. It all sort of runs together. The hour last night at which the afterword was actually done was depressingly familiar to me from the paper-writing periods of my life. But it's been turned in, and it seems to meet with its subject's approval, and apparently it's even in English. Well, except for the bits in Latin. But I knew about those.
There is now a hat shop in Harvard Square. I approve of this development, even if I don't quite have the means to take advantage of it. I also approve of discovering that
rushthatspeaks and I just impulse-bought, independently, the same NYRB-reprinted non-Holmes Conan Doyle from used book stores in our respective cities. One of us will have to read it first.
I owe a lot of e-mails to people. I don't owe posts to anyone but myself, but I still feel I'm behind on writing them.
Livejournal is still kind of borked, isn't it?
There is now a hat shop in Harvard Square. I approve of this development, even if I don't quite have the means to take advantage of it. I also approve of discovering that
I owe a lot of e-mails to people. I don't owe posts to anyone but myself, but I still feel I'm behind on writing them.
Livejournal is still kind of borked, isn't it?

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Hope you can sleep now.
Nine
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I vote for more hat shops in the world.
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A five-chambered heart. I like that notion.
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I am tempted to investigate based on the title alone.
The same hat chain has a presence in downtown Manhattan now. Does this mean hats are a thing again?
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I hope you've been well.
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Congrats on finishing the afterword. Please do not forget to forward me (roadpoet@rock.com) a mailing address to which to send a hard-copy of my novel.
(p.s. Last night I arrested a man I have busted for shoplifting on four previous occasions. When all was said and done, the bag he used to conceal the merchandise got left behind. When delivering the evidence to the police stations, I thoughtfully dropped it off. "Wouldn't want him to be without his favorite shop-lifting bag," I said.)
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I've not read Brigadier Gerard! Been a Holmes fan for, hell, thirty years, and I liked the early Challenger stuff. I'd like to hear your thoughts on this.
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I'm glad that you approve the hat shop. The Conan Doyle reprint is interesting--I've not heard of that one before. I'll be curious to hear your thoughts.
Livejournal is still kind of borked, isn't it?
A touch, I think. It's okay for me right now, but when I looked at Head Trip this morning the comments (carried on LJ) weren't displaying.
I wish you restful sleep and the chance to catch up on all you'd wish to.
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His autobiography is very entertaining reading, as well; he was a jock in the nicest possible way, and interested in absolutely everything. There is a chapter on Spiritualism, I'll admit, but it's relatively short and doesn't quite make me go OH CONAN DOYLE NO. Actually, I've been meaning to post about him in a different context. I must get to that soon.
Incidentally, I remember hearing that Neil Gaiman's grown-up daughter Holly was a hat designer. Here's a gallery of her work:
http://elliottfranks.photoshelter.com/gallery/G0000C9.QAcLXIcI
They look like surrealist fascinators and hair decs, rather than what I picture when I think "hat," but I like and covet them nonetheless.
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