Friday, July 23, 2004
The really big thing around here right now, though I've said little about it, is that this coming Monday, July 26th, Jennifer will be defending her doctoral dissertation at the University of Georgia (Athens). It's titled "Darkness Reminds Us of Light": T. S. Eliot's Gothic Quest and is the culmination of about eight years of work. Obviously, we are tremendously proud of her. She will soon be Dr. Jennifer M. Caudle. Her graduation ceremony is August 7th. If you'd like to congratulate her, send e-mails to spookydooky@aol.com (she doesn't read the comments to my LJ).
I haven't yet submitted "The Pearl Diver" to the editor who's waiting for it. It's being read by a friend, one of the people I trust to read for me prior to my being sure of a piece (an act of trust at least as intimate as sex), and then there are a couple of other people whom I shall ask to read the story. And then, perhaps after some editing, then I'll forward it to the editor of FutureShocks.
Yesterday, at Borders, I came a cross a somewhat inexplicable photograph of myself in the latest issue of Science Fiction Chronicle. I was mentioned on the page, but not prominantly, yet here was this photo of me at WHC '02 smack in the center of the page. Long time ago, when all this dren was bright and new to me, I used to buy any magazine that printed a photo, the merest drop of my name, and so forth. Now, though, it hardly phases me, and I've ceased buying magazines I'll never read. I have a whole file of them already. And if I'm this jaded about such things, I can only imagine how Neil must feel.
As predicted, my editor is happy with the Kirkus review of Murder of Angels, which he considers an exceedingly quotable review "from the usually vicious Kirkus." I wasn't aware that Kirkus had such a reputation. Now I am. And I'm trying not to be annoyed that the Kirkus review was trusted to someone with so ill-conceived and/or stunted a literary aesthetic that he or she divides a novel's "writing" ( I assume style and/or voice is what is meant) from its story and then announces that the latter might suffer because the former is "almost distracting." I'm trying to play nice.
The last couple of nights, I've been lost in Kya: Dark Lineage, kicking Wolfen ass. I absolutely love this game.
Who in their right mind would pay $302 for tickets to a Madonna (aka "Esther") concert? Tix for her upcoming Atalnta show range from $47-$302. Frell that. I wouldn't even pay $100 to see Peter Gabriel, and he rocks my world. You'd be much better off attending the also-upcoming Madonnarama drag thing at Jungle.
News pollution of the day, courtesy Yahoo: "A former brokerage assistant who helped Martha Stewart make her fateful stock trade and later emerged as a key government witness was fined $2,000 but spared both prison and probation Friday for accepting a payoff during the government's investigation." And I should care because...?
Finally, mine and Spooky's costumes for Dragon*Con are starting to come together. Our contact lenses have been ordered (I'll say more about the besting of the Eyeball Nazis later on), and yesterday we went to Atlanta Costume to order her wig (which will, of course, require a lot of customizing when it gets here). There's a fair amount of sewing left to do, and Spooky's ordering some very cool boots. My just-below-the-surface Nebari self is impatiently awaiting the annual removal of all this frelling pink make-up.
Yes, well. I suppose I ought to do some work.
12:45 PM
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