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We heard this song from the banks of the river where the green glass siren slept
I am so tired, I spent all night dreaming about being unable to sleep.
I got out of bed and found my poems "Blueshift" (for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
time_shark) and "Natural Phenomena" (about sirens and their listeners) have been accepted by, respectively, Goblin Fruit and Not One of Us. I am meeting rushthatspeaks at Kickass Cupcakes in a couple of hours.
I'm okay with being awake.
I got out of bed and found my poems "Blueshift" (for
time_shark) and "Natural Phenomena" (about sirens and their listeners) have been accepted by, respectively, Goblin Fruit and Not One of Us. I am meeting rushthatspeaks at Kickass Cupcakes in a couple of hours.I'm okay with being awake.
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I don't know why I never remember to send poetry to Not One of Us... If "The Golden Stringed Guitar" fails there, I should shine one up and send it.
Speaking of which, MD still reading? I should go check.
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I'm not going to complain!
I don't know why I never remember to send poetry to Not One of Us... If "The Golden Stringed Guitar" fails there, I should shine one up and send it.
Or you could query
Poop. Missed out on MD.
Bah. I'm sorry. (Ask anyway?)
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Fingers crossed.
Ironically, of course, as
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Yay!
Nine
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It's good by me.
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Er -- Unless there's something you're not telling me, I'm pretty sure that "Blueshift" was accepted by Goblin Fruit earlier today.
(I am extremely amused.)
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There is nothing I'm not telling you. Did I or did I not start off this post with sleep deprivation?
(Fixed.)
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Thank you! It's lovely weather out and I am emotionally conflicted because I have just been informed by one person that I am benefiting from their brother's upcoming move by inheriting his video copies of the original, un-fucked-around-with Star Wars, which for someone who wants to smack George Lucas every time they think about it is an unexpected windfall, and by two others that Jean Craighead George just died, and so like everyone else who ever dreamed of living in the wilderness between the ages of eight and whenever, I am rather sad.
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Damn. This is the first I've heard. Her memory for a blessing.
I'm rather sad as well.*
ETA: I feel annoyed with myself for missing her obituary in the NYT, but I suppose maybe I hadn't got round to the obituaries yet.
My mother hadn't heard, either. She says that she met JCG at a children's literature conference at OSU, back in the nineties when she was a school librarian. It was probably when I was already away at college, but I'm surprised that I'd not remembered her telling me about it back then.
*I started to write "I, too, am rather sad", but remembered the unfelicitous association just in time.
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I had an amazingly long dream about Loki...a considerably less Marvel-like version, one was cruel in inventive ways, but also capped the dream by transforming a version of Thor he'd cursed in babyhood back to an adult so that he could participate in some sort of punchline Loki had just invented, ie: "Too bad you won't appreciate this 'till you're older again...oh, fuck it."
The night before, meanwhile, I dreamed about this very specific landscape I visit every now and then, which is simultaneously wild and unforgiving yet somehow familiar--a bit like Scotland, a bit like Tasmania, a bit like Northern Ontario. There are cliffs and a lake, woods with pine-needle carpeting and big rocks, an overhanging, dark and varicoloured sky, lots of grey and green and black, with vast ruined buildings and weirdly decayed small-town streets. Sometimes I wonder whether this is someplace I'm going to end up, and if so, if I really want to. There's not a lot of company.
dark and varicoloured sky,
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Thank you!
The night before, meanwhile, I dreamed about this very specific landscape I visit every now and then, which is simultaneously wild and unforgiving yet somehow familiar--a bit like Scotland, a bit like Tasmania, a bit like Northern Ontario. There are cliffs and a lake, woods with pine-needle carpeting and big rocks, an overhanging, dark and varicoloured sky, lots of grey and green and black, with vast ruined buildings and weirdly decayed small-town streets.
I like that you have recurring landscapes. Mine are mostly cities.
Sometimes I wonder whether this is someplace I'm going to end up, and if so, if I really want to. There's not a lot of company.
Now that sounds like one of your characters.
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I would make Kate Beaton's "Awww Yissss" duck into an icon, to use on occasions like these, but... it's just not that photogenic, alas.
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The sentiment is appreciated nonetheless.
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I raise a pint of cheap, cheap, cheap rainbow sherbet to you.
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Nah; "Taking the Auspices" was accepted by inkscrawl about two hours after I wrote it. I don't think I'll be able to beat that.
I raise a pint of cheap, cheap, cheap rainbow sherbet to you.
Red #40, Blue #2, and Yellow #5 for the win!
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Thank you! And maybe I'll see you in a ToC . . .
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Thank you! I am very glad. It came out of a comment made by
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and all our hearts were kept warm
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and all our hearts were kept warm
Poem, thank you.
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Hee. Thank you!
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(cool beans on the poetry)
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No; I've tended to get other things at Finale, like hazelnut hot chocolate. I am not actually a lover of cupcakes per se—I just have a soft spot for weird food ideas done well.
(cool beans on the poetry)
Thank you!
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Thank you!
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I hope you have a good evening.
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It was a good afternoon, so I don't see why not.
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(Which may or may not be tonight :-P)
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Well, I hope it is.
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Congrats on the poems :) I really need to submit to Not One of Us again soon; haven't sent anything there in ages.
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I'm glad you have such obliging strange visitations.
Congrats on the poems
Thank you!
I really need to submit to Not One of Us again soon; haven't sent anything there in ages.
Well, they are always reading . . .