I'm Not A Scientist!

May 15

Bad news -- David Kopaska-Merkel, editor of Dreams & Nightmares, former editor of Star*Line (he passed the reins to me), gifted poet, and all-around nice guy was in a car accident last week, breaking some of his vertebrae. Last I heard he was in intensive care, preparing for surgery to have several steel pins put in his neck, but was conscious and in good spirits. He's in my thoughts... let's all wish him well.

***

The good people at Tangent Online have posted a review of the April issue of Realms of Fantasy, and of my "Captain Fantasy". If you're a Tangent subscriber, go read the whole review, and for you non-subscribers, well, you'll have to wait a few weeks. Here's a snippet, though:

• This is my favorite story of the issue, by far... [it] manages to work both as a superhero story that might have been found in comics thirty, or even fifty years ago, with a battle of pure good against pure evil, fought at a smash'em up pace, and to critique and deconstruct such stories, much as Watchmen did. Captain Fantasy's exploits are put into context with period sexual attitudes, contemporary ethnic clashes, and a larger human context of what it means to be human, to have heroes, to face them as people, and to still admire them.

And it goes on from there. Always a nice, warm, glowy feeling, to get a good review, especially one where the reviewer pretty clearly got what you were trying to do.

***

Heather and I watched Sullivan's Travels Friday night, and line-by-line it's probably the funniest screwball comedy I've ever seen. I think the second half bogs down a bit, but the first half is dead funny. I especially love this moment:

Veronica Lake: I'm hungry.

Joel McCrae: How can you be hungry when you just ate?

Veronica Lake: I'm not a scientist!

Lord, I like to died. That's a line worthy of Mr. Show, and it was written in 1941! It's going to be my new all-purpose excuse.

Heather Shaw: Tim! Why did you leave the toilet seat up?

Tim Pratt: I'm not a scientist!

Heather Shaw: Tim! Why didn't you clean your hair out of the shower drain?

Tim Pratt: I'm not a scientist!

Though it'd be way funnier to hear, say, Scott or Lynne (who are scientists) say the line. Maybe I can infect them with this old-school meme...

The DVD also had a decent documentary about Preston Sturges. He was a pretty fascinating guy, and the best of his movies are amazing. Though, as always, watching a screwball comedy fills me with the urge to read Corrupting Dr. Nice by John Kessel, and assorted short stories by Connie Willis, especially "Blued Moon".

***

Yeah, sure, I've been writing. 2700 words on the Frog novel (yay! forward momentum!). Another 400 words of a graphic novel review (Carey & Bolton's The Furies; it needs some fill-and-polish, but I got my essential thoughts down). 400 words of what should, gods willing and the Styx don't rise, be a new short story (about, rather coincidentally, the Furies -- or, at least, about the tropes and structure of Greek tragedy, with a style most likely inspired by an intense reading of several M. John Harrison stories in quick succession). A decent enough output for the past few days, though, naturally, I feel I should've done more.

***

Mostly, though, I've been sick. My cold has held steady, though I think the great quantities of sleep I got this weekend helped keep it from getting worse. To make matters more unpleasant, I've got a sore in my mouth, on the gums way back by the molars. I'm trying to keep the area clean, but jeez, that's where I put my pizza and cheeseburgers and milkshakes and peanut butter sammitches and stuff! Orajel helps. It makes it possible for me to eat solid food, anyway. I was pretty miserable yesterday morning, and this morning, too (we also had to do laundry this morning! That's always a hellish experience, and it's even worse in the midst of a nasty cold). This afternoon I started to perk up a bit, and there were moments yesterday when the various medications I'm taking achieved perfect confluence, allowing me to feel relatively normal, so the weekend hasn't been a wash by any means. I had fun with Heather, and I cleaned my garret today, and we got laundry and some grocery shopping done. But it was all a lot more effort than it would normally have been, thanks to Old Man Phlegm and his Sore-Gum All-Stars.

I hope I'm over all this crap by Wiscon. I want to boogie down every night, not... well. I almost made a pun about boogers. Lucky for you, I chose to refrain.

***

I got paid yesterday for "Helljack", the collaboration I did with Mike Jasper which is going to appear in the first issue of H.P. Lovecraft's Magazine of Horror. Very prompt payment. Now I just have to send Mike a check for half...

***

Things seem to be working out fairly well all around for me, actually. If I were in good health, I'd have nothing to complain about (and then why would I write journal entries?).

Words written since February 1, 2003: 51,200

Words written since last entry:
3,500

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