oh monday…
Yes, still alive. The weekend was busier than weekends usually manage to be. Why is it that sometimes I feel like it takes half a week for me to recover from the week before?
To Kristina: I don’t know if Kat and Mitch (from the short story in My Big Fat Supernatural Honeymoon) will ever get a book of their own. They seem to be just short-story characters. Though I do sometimes wonder how things will work out for them.
I finished proofing a book today, and have set myself the ambitious goal of chicken soup for dinner, since nobody in the house seems to be feeling a hundred percent. Chicken soup with a mighty load of garlic should help. If not, well, at least it’s a recipe I can put together in my sleep.
The Muse has been satisfied with both Pitch Black and Chronicles of Riddick these past few days. I have to say, Hutch was correct in advocating for Pitch Black as the better movie, and it stood up better on re-viewing than I could have hoped for. I think people like Riddick because he’s an antihero, but his Everyman Doing Everything mixing with Sooper-Alpha-Violent Male mix doesn’t allow for a lot of character growth or ambiguity. The junkie merc in PB and the Necromonger couple (Karl Urban and whatsherface, her name escapes me) in COR are MUCH more interesting characters, and I think they are what primarily drive the story instead of Riddick himself.
Though I will advocate once more for Vin Diesel’s shoulders. On my List Of Things To Do Before I Die are two items in particular: one, to touch Vin Diesel’s shoulders, and two, to touch Bruce Campbell’s chin. I realize these are creepy, totemic desires, but they’re still on the List. I would never engage in either desire without first finding a way to politely broach the subject to the actors in question, in a non-stalkery, respectful sort of way.
Which will, let’s be honest, never happen. But I figure a List Of Things To Do Before I Die must have at least one or two unattainable items on it, just to keep the gods guessing. Heh.
And now, to writing. I’ve got a couple scenes that need to get out of my head. And the Space Opera, which I suspect the Muse really wants to write, is bugging me too. Specifically, a couple of plot points, which I have to shake in my little cup before I slam it down and see where the dice land.
Writing. It’s like dicing with destiny, only you never really get to see the numbers and once the cup is slammed, there’s not much a girl can do except shake again.
Argh. Not making sense even to self. Welcome to my brain on Monday, dear Readers. I hope your M-day is going better than mine. *wink*
