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ashlymeThe last few days have been quiet. I went back to my parents' for a bit. Read Christie's collection The Hound of Death. Met up with C for a catch-up. Walked down to Catney via the cuts. There were two squirrels having a territorial dispute on an oak: spiral scrabbling around the trunk; it needed Yakkety Sax playing in the background - something very cartoonish in the chase. They have very soft voices, even when they're angry; I've been scolded by squirrels before for just walking under their tree and thought it was birdchitter till I looked up.
I took a notebook and tried (with various degrees of success) to find ideas for a couple of horror anthology submission calls that interested me, one of them book called Beautiful Death - Death By Water. There are only so many permutations on drowning, but many kinds of water. (I might be taking the title too literally - there's not much else in the pitch to guide you). Something like The Duke of Burgundy but with mute swans cropped up in notes; then more predictably, an anima of the canals. She shapeshifts between a woman with khaki eyes and cold hands and a sort of Midlands Mari, with the skull of a horse that once led the old narrowboats through the cuts. Let me flip a coin... The second anthology is a collection of Hallowe'en-set stories and my immediate response to this is to storify my poem Rainspeaking as a Nairns tale. Both calls end on September the first, and I doubt I'll get two stories in on time, but mentioning in case anyone wants to have a go at the water anthology. (There doesn't seem to be an online call for t'other beyond a post a Facebook friend shared.)
Work yesterday was improved yesterday by a new volunteer: a small black cat that wandered in through the fire exit on the first floor and promptly made itself at home, twining around your ankles, lifting its head to be petted, sleeping at last under the rack of clothes to go down on the shop floor. I think it must have wandered from one of the flats above the shops.. Hopefully it's safe at home now but I shan't know till next Wednesday.
The post yesterday was good to me - it brought my contributor's copies of Supernatural Tales and a paperback of BB's Lord of the Forest, the story of an oak from its seeding in the thirteenth century to the fall of its last acorn in the Second World War, illustrated (how else?) by woodcuts. It enchanted me when I was ten and turns up (when it does) online for very often stupid money. I'm currently on Nina Allan's new novel The Rift.
Lastly, have a video of the Finnish-English artist and musician Hanna Tuulikki singing a splice of old English folk songs. She even seems to angle her head and body the way birds do.
I took a notebook and tried (with various degrees of success) to find ideas for a couple of horror anthology submission calls that interested me, one of them book called Beautiful Death - Death By Water. There are only so many permutations on drowning, but many kinds of water. (I might be taking the title too literally - there's not much else in the pitch to guide you). Something like The Duke of Burgundy but with mute swans cropped up in notes; then more predictably, an anima of the canals. She shapeshifts between a woman with khaki eyes and cold hands and a sort of Midlands Mari, with the skull of a horse that once led the old narrowboats through the cuts. Let me flip a coin... The second anthology is a collection of Hallowe'en-set stories and my immediate response to this is to storify my poem Rainspeaking as a Nairns tale. Both calls end on September the first, and I doubt I'll get two stories in on time, but mentioning in case anyone wants to have a go at the water anthology. (There doesn't seem to be an online call for t'other beyond a post a Facebook friend shared.)
Work yesterday was improved yesterday by a new volunteer: a small black cat that wandered in through the fire exit on the first floor and promptly made itself at home, twining around your ankles, lifting its head to be petted, sleeping at last under the rack of clothes to go down on the shop floor. I think it must have wandered from one of the flats above the shops.. Hopefully it's safe at home now but I shan't know till next Wednesday.
The post yesterday was good to me - it brought my contributor's copies of Supernatural Tales and a paperback of BB's Lord of the Forest, the story of an oak from its seeding in the thirteenth century to the fall of its last acorn in the Second World War, illustrated (how else?) by woodcuts. It enchanted me when I was ten and turns up (when it does) online for very often stupid money. I'm currently on Nina Allan's new novel The Rift.
Lastly, have a video of the Finnish-English artist and musician Hanna Tuulikki singing a splice of old English folk songs. She even seems to angle her head and body the way birds do.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-27 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-07-28 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-07-27 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-07-28 07:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-07-27 09:06 pm (UTC)Well, I think you have your first line.
Something like The Duke of Burgundy but with mute swans cropped up in notes; then more predictably, an anima of the canals. She shapeshifts between a woman with khaki eyes and cold hands and a sort of Midlands Mari, with the skull of a horse that once led the old narrowboats through the cuts.
Prrrrrrrrrrrt.
The second anthology is a collection of Hallowe'en-set stories and my immediate response to this is to storify my poem Rainspeaking as a Nairns tale.
Nice!
a small black cat that wandered in through the fire exit on the first floor and promptly made itself at home, twining around your ankles, lifting its head to be petted, sleeping at last under the rack of clothes to go down on the shop floor.
They sound like an excellent new coworker. I hope you see them again.
a paperback of BB's Lord of the Forest, the story of an oak from its seeding in the thirteenth century to the fall of its last acorn in the Second World War, illustrated (how else?) by woodcuts.
I have seen this! Not for decades, though. I associate it with elementary school. Nice catch.
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Date: 2017-07-28 09:22 pm (UTC)...Goddamn. That's a good thought! Thank you. Damn.
*Prrrrrrrrrrrt.*
Something else turned up in my head as I was showering just now and it doesn't relate to either of these calls! I need a book on truffle-hunting...
*I hope you see them again.*
Me too!
no subject
Date: 2017-07-29 03:43 am (UTC)*begins the patient wait*
Something else turned up in my head as I was showering just now and it doesn't relate to either of these calls! I need a book on truffle-hunting...
Well, I definitely want to know what you're planning.