I could love my murderer, but I could never love you
Rabbit, rabbit. It is not currently snowing, which I consider a major improvement on this same time last month. It's even sunny without looking like the sky is about to crystallize and change its mind.
I am behind on all forms of internet and most forms of communication, but I met the deadlines I needed to before the end of the month. I still have other deadlines, of course, but I think I can take a day to breathe in between. As a reward to myself, I did something last night that made me very happy: I sat in my office with a purring cat and read two new books, in this case Caitlín R. Kiernan's Red Delicious (2014) and Cherry Bomb (2015). I'd had them sitting on my desk in a brown paper bag from Porter Square Books since Saturday night. I suspect I am way fonder of Mean Mr. B than he even remotely deserves.
(Neither of those novels explains the only line I can remember from my dreams: trapped between time and a fossil you can't solve. Nonetheless, it feels like either
greygirlbeast's or
ashlyme's fault.)
Tonight
derspatchel and I are going to see John Ford's Upstream (1927) at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. I know nothing about it except that it's a formerly lost film with a vaudeville setting—and I like John Ford—so the omens are cautiously hopeful.
This last week was a very long one.
I am behind on all forms of internet and most forms of communication, but I met the deadlines I needed to before the end of the month. I still have other deadlines, of course, but I think I can take a day to breathe in between. As a reward to myself, I did something last night that made me very happy: I sat in my office with a purring cat and read two new books, in this case Caitlín R. Kiernan's Red Delicious (2014) and Cherry Bomb (2015). I'd had them sitting on my desk in a brown paper bag from Porter Square Books since Saturday night. I suspect I am way fonder of Mean Mr. B than he even remotely deserves.
(Neither of those novels explains the only line I can remember from my dreams: trapped between time and a fossil you can't solve. Nonetheless, it feels like either
Tonight
This last week was a very long one.

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Thank you!
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Yes! I have been writing my latest movie review with one cat asleep next to the radiator and another cat asleep in the chair behind me and it's really pleasant, but there's something about reading with a cat that is just wonderful.
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I am glad you survived it!
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Thank you! Me, too.
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This fragment keeps echoing and spooling other lines out after it.
And hurrah for deadline-completion letting there be reading time. Chinks in which to breathe.
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Please feel free to elaborate! I just want to read the results.
Chinks in which to breathe.
Yes.
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I don't mind sharing the blame for that. I am so behind on the Quinn books!
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Oh, good. I am not responsible for my dreams, but I would not like you to feel I'd sicced them on you.
I am so behind on the Quinn books!
2014 was a very bad book-buying year for me. Even at Readercon, I just didn't have the money. I kind of don't have the money for it now, but I wanted a reward for surviving February. Red Delicious is in many ways an expansion of "The Maltese Unicorn" and appropriately runs with a lot of noir tropes; Cherry Bomb is built around the same Ghūl mythos as "Pickman's Madonna" and I liked it very much, even if I agree with Caitlín that it should have been a longer book or two books: what we get is solid. Blood Oranges is still very much its own thing.
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Well, they are part of the same series, so it's thematic. But I wouldn't mind seeing them as an omen of a season when things might actually bloody grow again around here.