Low Red Moon journal

        Sunday, December 26, 2004

        It's over. Done.

        I'm free of secularized Jesus holidays until Easter, and rarely is Easter anything but gaudy. Gods, imagine if we had to endure a barrage of Easter music the way we do with Xmas music. Blargh. A month or more of "Here Comes Peter Cottontail" and that awful frelling Easter bonnet song. But we don't. Small mercies.

        No writing yesterday, which was to be expected. I should have written, but, instead, Spooky and I watched nine straight hours of porn, drank a whole bottle of absinthe, smoked opium, burned holy Wal-Mart in effigy, and spent no money whatsoever. That makes a nice story, doesn't it. Okay, so it's not strictly 100% true, but few things ever are. I don't mean true. I mean factual. But, still, it makes a nice story, even if we didn't actually burn holy Wal-Mart in effigy. Last year, we passed the day hiding in theatres. This year, I couldn't stand the thought of so many people.

        I may try to write today, or at least I may try to fix the aforementioned geographic gaff from Friday, which shall require some rewriting.

        I may go to Fernbank and sit with the dinosaurs.

        I'm thinking that I may write the worst review of Daughter of Hounds imaginable. Remember that scene in Citizen Kane? The one wherein Orson Welles writes the review flaying Dorothy Comingore's atrocious opera? It has inspired me. Yes, I think I will do this, and I think I'll do it soon. I'll include it in an entry, then post it at Amazon, under my own name, as soon as possible. I'll be sure to mention that DoH is hard to read, and that I cann't follow the plot, and that almost all the characters are "unsympathetic," and that the prose is too artsy, and that I'm obviously pretentious, and that, this time, I even drag a child through the mess, and that I hate when people write present-tense, third-person narratives, and, of course, I will not forget to tell you that that you should, instead, read a book by Writer X if you want good dark fantasy. Maybe I'll even accuse myself of plagiarizing from Kate and Leopold, because, after all, part of DoH is set in New York City.


        10:39 AM


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