Wishtime
November 11
Rah rah Sunday morning! Happy 11-11. A delicious long day ahead, I'm up early... Mmm. There's breakfast at Mama's before me, writing a review of a very good book, reading lots of the 2000 Year's Best Fantasy and Horror, hanging out with Heather... what loveliness.
Yesterday was really quite productive. I revised "Bone Sigh" and sent it off (as I believe I mentioned in my entry yesterday). Then I sent out poetry contracts and paid bills. I finished reading the first half of Cordelia's Honor... what an odd final chapter. A beautiful, self-contained short story that seemed to have very little to do with the main thrust of the narrative, though I suppose it was thematically illuminating...
Heather went houseplant shopping (and later came back with some beauties), so I walked in the timid, barely-there California rain to a dreadful Corporate Coffeehouse (because the non-corporate one had no seating; there were people standing up drinking their lattés). Getting out of the house was good for me; I managed to write a short essay called "Fresh Graves" about horror poetry. Around 1 a.m. last night I sent the essay off to the person who asked me to write it. I hope it meets with approval... I'll let you know soon whether the essay will have a good home. I also wrote a poem called "Broken, Entered" that sort of illustrates the points I make in the essay (though I think it's a pretty good, and creepy, poem in isolation, too).
I diddled around at the coffee shop for a while longer, making notes for future novels, until Heather arrived. She got something to drink, and we talked for a bit, then headed to Berkeley for our date.
Long Life Noodle has these wonderful sodas. Normally I get the cream soda, but they were out of that, so I got black cherry-- which was, if anything, better than the cream. Heather took a taste of mine, and then ordered her own, as well as ordering me a second one (I'm broke, so last night was all her treat). I had Dragon's Breath (as did Heather-- you can't beat garlicky lo mein). Good dinner, and much needed-- the combination of no food all day and lots of caffeine had made me lightheaded and trembly by the time we ate (around 6:20 p.m.). Then we went to Donnie Darko, as both Scott and Zak had suggested I do. Very nice movie-- creepy and dark and weird and interesting. I liked it a lot. Not my favorite movie of all time, but a very nice two hours. And sometime soon, Heather and I are going to see the new Coen Brothers' flick, The Man Who Wasn't There... and Vanilla Sky looks like it could be good, and The Royal Tannenbaums will almost certainly be good, and there's that new movie coming out by the guy who did Delicatessan... what a wonderful movieful time ahead!
After the movie, Heather and I craved adventure... we wanted to go walking on rooftops, we wanted to have strange encounters. But we settled for having cocoa at a new café that just opened near the Berkeley BART. I wrote a little, and we talked, and it was quite nice; Heather said it made her feel very urban, sitting in the café in the midst of Berkeley.
We went home, where I grazed around reading-wise-- dipping into old issues of Asimov's, reading an article about the Simpsons that Heather had, and watching bits of the Buffy musical with my sweet girlfriend. We had a longish discussion about the arts after 9/11, about cultural perceptions... it was nice. A real meaty conversation. She went to bed, but I stayed up, answering a little e-mail, catching up on the Rumor Mill, sending off novel chapters to Amily (which I've owed her for, oh, a month now). I read some... and didn't get to bed until 3:21 a.m. I woke up at 9:20, cuddled Heather for a few minutes, and then got up. 6 hours is really quite ideal for me, sleeping wise... I usually sleep too much, but it's so deliciously tempting to get in bed and snuggle my sweet Rambleflower, Heather. I don't mind sleeping more hours than I need, when it means time to have her in my arms.
Earlier this morning I read Andy Duncan's "The Potawatomie Giant", which won the World Fantasy Award this year for best short story. It's a very good story, but it's just a little tangential to my usual taste... I don't know that I would've picked it as the winner. (But then, the only other one of the short story nominees I've read is "Shoe and Marriage" by Kelly Link; I would've picked Duncan's story over that. But I'm reading the Year's Best now, which includes 5 of the 7 nominated stories, so I'll be in a better position to have an opinion after I read those).
I agree with The Man on the Ceiling winning for best novella, though. The only better novella I read all year was Carroll's The Heidelburg Cylinder, which wasn't even nominated.
I got the Brainbox II anthology in PDF form a couple of days ago, and have begun reading it. It's really, really good. I'm going to happily tell people to buy it. I only hope it's printed and available before Xmas, so I can give it to people as gifts... it should be ready by then, barring the unforeseen, but one can never really bar the unforeseen...
Oh, cool thing-- my story "53rd Annual Mantis Homecoming Dance" is available in audio over at Neverworlds. Just scroll down to the bottom of the page... I haven't listened to it yet, actually. But it's still neat.
The lovely Susan Marie tells me that she has her copy of Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet #9, with my name on the cover. I haven't received my contributor's copy, yet, so I'm writhing with envy. With luck I'll see her today, though, and get to catch a glimpse of this elusive publication...
Gah. Just got a bounce from Glimmertrain, after 15 days. The nice e-form. Ah, well. I'll send it elsewhere.
Have a pleasant Sunday, all...
