Low Red Moon journal

        Saturday, February 19, 2005

        I hardly slept last night. And this morning, I feel like it.

        Yesterday, I wrote 1,184 words on Chapter Three of Daughter of Hounds. Also, the first of the vignettes for Frogs Toes and Tentacles was finished, a siren, so it was, at least, a very prolific day. But the writing filled me with doubt. Even as I begin, finally, to see the whole of DoH, I wonder if I can pull it off this time. Trying to balance the two central characters — Emmie Silvey and Soldier — and two secondary characters — Deacon and Sadie. Not to mention the tertiary and more minor characters, and the difficulties of once again having to write a sequel than is not a sequel. I'm very, very tired.

        The cold weather isn't helping. I just looked at a 10-day forcast, and my skin's still crawling. Like most cities, Atlanta is an ugly place in February.

        Set me aflame and cast me free,
        Away, you wretched world of tethers...


        We must have our prayers, even those of us who pray to no one and nothing. Ena sn'ial, Hallelujah, Hosanna, Ahmet.

        Here's a wicked little thing. "We have observed an object only 20 kilometres across, on the other side of our galaxy, releasing more energy in a 10th of a second than the Sun emits in 100,000 years." I think something was having bad dreams.

        Last night, we rented Saw, which was both astoundingly dull and moronic beyond all my expectations. This is what happens when filmmakers borrow the best elements of good films, but, being hacks, have no idea how to assemble their patchwork creation. Really. This film was so dull, I was actually grateful when it's namesake tool was finally employed in the amputation we were supposed to have spent the entire film dreading. At least then I knew it was almost over. I think this one gets three seconds in the microwave before it goes back to the rental place. Afterwards, we tried playing Kingdom Under Fire: The Crusaders. Strike two. Someone should suffer for birthing a game this frelling bad. Finally, we gave up, went to bed, and read The Lorax (which has considerably more in the way of tension than Saw).

        Okay. Blah, blah, blah. Time to make the doughnuts.


        12:15 PM


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