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Places that take exactly the length of The Doors' song, "The End" to walk to:

My work, from the old House of Entropy.
The grocery store and back, from The Nightmare House.
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In some spots in my room the shadows have blue edges. Others are just a yellow stain on the white wall, like an afterimage that doesn't go away.


There are two light bulbs in my overhead light. For a long time, on one side I had a novelty light bulb with a faint rainbow stained on the glass. It recently burned out, so I replaced it with a blue light.
So there are three light sources in my room -- the far light bulb, the near one (blue) and the lamp behind my bed. When all the lights are on, it doesn't look that odd at first. But if you look at the shadows...
nonionay: (Default)
random writerly bitchiness:

Writing is so inefficient. I'm in the middle of a brand new chunk of the novel I'm rewriting. I can tell there's problems with it -- I think the pacing's off. But it's in such a state that I can't tell for sure until I'm done writing all of it. I could, after all, be crazy. And then I'll probably have to redo everything. >:(

In other news, you should check out the pictures Keffy took of the outside of our house.
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I just finished reading Vonda McIntyre's book, The Moon and the Sun. It's the best thing I've read in a long time. It's full of the subtle court dynamics that I want in Empire's Daughters. If I meet her at Foolscap next month, I hope I don't gush like a dork. :-)

In other news, a bright green katydid flew into my room a few days ago. I put it outside, but it stubbornly returned to perch on my ceiling-peak. I found it lying upside-down on my bedside this evening, and thought it dead. But when i poked it, it contracted its legs. Now I can see it's shedding its skin. It's going back end first, and I can't imagine how it will get its huge legs out. But they do it all the time, so I can't worry. Still, I couldn't imagine a more horrific thing for myself- spending a night trapped in my dead skin, unsure if I would escape. And undoubtedly it doesn't wonder; at least, I hope it doesn't. Right now, it's lying on a tissue in a metal Kali matchbox on my bed. I'll set it someplace safe tonight, so I don't knock it on the floor.
nonionay: (goddesscross)
I really, really love my house. I say that a lot, but yesterday I realized exactly how inspiring this place is.
I live in a loft that manages to be huge and cramped at the same time, with a big glass diamond-shaped window on one end that shows the trees beyond. I've got a balcony looking through trees onto the bay and the mountains. Spiders dwell in cupboards and corners. Moths flutter like plankton in the air. Outside, morning glory battles with the greenery and flowers, engulfing my house in its beautiful but terrifying tendrils.
I live in the densest neighborhood in town, yet I am isolated and unreachable.

Yes, it will never be clean, but my house is more alive, and has more soul than most humans.

Last night, I lost a beloved character in the Lovecraftian sitcom that is my house. Keffy can explain better than I.
nonionay: (Default)
I just turned on the baseboard heater in my room for the first time since early spring. So now my room smells like burnt dust and bug carcass.

In other news, I'm going to my first sci-fi/fantasy writers convention tomorrow. I hope to have 50,000 words done on Raising Monsters (Requiem's sequel) before I leave. Just 1,400 words.


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August 2014

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