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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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
greygirlbeast's or ashlyme's fault.)
Tonightderspatchel 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
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.
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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.