Il pleut sur la ville...

... Comme il pleure dans mon coeur.

It's been raining a lot lately, perhaps more this year than any on record. Lake Hodges may overflow for the first time since 1998. And it was just at 15% capacity last year.

I intend to go to the writing class tomorrow, but will have to reassess the situation in the morning. This week only two stories were submitted--then a third was added at the last moment--illness and lethargy are taking their toll.

I have been asked to be a judge in the annual contest of the SDBAA. Free books to read! And a new role for me, which is something that I have background for as a trained critic. I am eagerly anticipating my shipment in the mail.

What else? Oh yeah, Shadows of Saturn rejected Europa's Children. I need to figure out where to send that story next. Got to keep things in circulation.

I watched the latest episode of Carnivale last night on HBO. Although I still really enjoy the series, I don't find it as intriguing or gripping as last season. Critics hated the ambiguity of last year and the creators strived to make a clearer-cut story line. But I found the essential ambiguity, the wandering through the metaphorical "black blizzard" to be at the heart of the series. The "heart of darkness" is a murky thing, not to be grasped easily. Unless you are George Bush, manichean to the core.

Tonight's reality fare: Fear Factor: Vegas. To be followed immediately by an episode of the fictional series, Vegas. What does it say about a country when its fastest growing city is a wasteland of fake monuments, gambling and prostitution? There are more programs about Las Vegas on TV now than about New York or LA. Why is the public so fascinated by the gaudy extravagance of that gaudy desert hole during a time when the moral mood of the country--at least the red states--seems to be slouching back to the primordial ooze of creationism, censorship and war?

That's a topic to be explored at length later. Back to reading for me.

Nature Morte

Another week has flown, or rather drifted by.... Mostly outside my window, where it's been raining steadily, sometimes heavily, since Thursday. I love the soft, gray hues, the tender weeping sky full of shifting shapes. I appreciate the sizzling sound of raindrops splattering in puddles along the sidewalk, against the stucco walls of my apartment, simmering like a slowly boiling crock of homemade soup as the moisture drifts in tiny pearl-shaped orbs through the tree leaves outside my home.

The Read & Critique course continues to sail along nicely. It's great to experience the dedication and talent of each writer in the class. It's a pretty cordial group as well, so no one appears too intimidated to speak his or her mind. The group seemed to enjoy my little work, and I was really happy they all wanted to keep turning the pages to find out what would happen next. Of course, they and Judy wanted to see more depth in the world I am creating. But as it will probably be a novel, I am looking at this first "crappy draft" as more of an extended outline. It was amusing that several people obsessed on Roland's missing horse; I guess I will have to clear up that mystery soon enough! Perhaps the heroes dismembered and ate the horse out of the ravages of starvation-- nah.

I have begun putting together character sketches for the presumed novel. This has helped flesh out the story and the people in it. I will continue working on that this week.

Tomorrow my friends Katie and Jacque will come for a visit around 12:30. It will be fun to catch up with everyone's news. And the new dog of Jacque's.... Can't forget the dog! Hehehe

Meanwhile I continue to get stronger, la vita continua...

An Esthetic Kind of Horror

Friday night my parents came over and, since we couldn't get "Sky Captain" we watched "The Grudge." I thought "The Grudge" was outstanding in many ways. The Japanese director based it on his earlier Japanese film, adapting it to, as he said, "what would scare an American audience." It truly was frightening!

While the storyline was hackneyed--a haunted house where things inevitably go bump in the night--the imagery was spectacularly evocative. It aroused tension, fright, rapid heartbeats and accomplished all this with a minimum of gore. As with "The Ring," the Japanese seem very adept at conjuring up disturbing, haunting visual elements.

The rest of the weekend was dullsville. I refused to watch the Superbowl; it just lost its allure once the Chargers fell out of the playoffs. I was gratified, however, to turn the game on at the end and see Rodney Harrison make the final, game-saving interception. As Homer Simpson would say, "In your face, Chargers!"

I also did my reading for the Read and Critique class. The stories were enjoyable and just reading them inspired me to do more. The next class is Tuesday evening, when my own story, "The Odyssey of St. Eudorus," will be up on the block. I think I am the only spec fiction writer in the class, though one other story came close. I don't know that there are sf/dark fantasy/horror fans in the class either, but I will report on the group's reaction after Tuesday.

I continue to work on leg excercises, and was thrilled to sleep in my own bed again Friday night.

David 

The Unbelievable Heaviness of Being

Today Sharon came back over and we practiced transfers again. I definitely can feel some strength and tone returning to my legs--especially the left one. There was concern because my right foot hurts when I sit down, as it dives into the carpet toe-first and just bends at the ankle. Ouch!

But at least tonight I get to sleep in my own bed. Yay!

Today the state inspector, Jaime, took a look at my van. He gave it a passing grade, except that the front tires need rotation (hmm... they are brand new, and have only been driven to and from the grocery store and shop since the accident), and the air conditioning doesn't cool very fast. The inspector's approval should mean a green light to getting new tie-down straps installed ($500). Then I can get out of the house more.

The read and critique class is going well. If nothing else, just reading other people's work keeps me in the flow of writing too. When you see some good or bad point in someone else's work, you immediately begin to think about how that same point applies to you. There is a lot of reading: about 100 pages a week. And it's not just passive reading; it's real "hard work"--as George II says.

Speaking of Bush, I couldn't bear to listen to the idiot's State of the Union Address, or his inaugural. The country is moving backwards socially and politically. It's time for the blue states to opt out of this most imperfect union, and take our tax dollars with us! How much of that $300 billion that Bush blew in Iraq came from California? Quite a lot, I guess.

Last week I watched that Cole Porter bio-flick on DVD. It's called "De Lovely," I think. Should have been called "Queer Ear for the Gay Composer." Sheesh! "Enough already with the gay!" as Dr. Zoidberg might say.... I am open-minded and tolerant, but I don't need to see two guys kissing to get the point.

Tonight I hope to watch "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow." And have dinner with my parents, which makes for a pleasant evening.