handful_ofdust

I’m not sure where this crazy constantly-screaming thing Cal’s currently embracing is coming from, exactly, but it does remind me eerily of the way he was in the week(s) before he actually cracked crawling. So maybe that’s it; maybe he’s just going to shriek and shriek until he learns to stand, or (even better!) walk. Maybe it’s his teeth. And maybe it’s driving me motherfucking nuts, like straight there, with no detours—yup, I think that’s the facts, jack. Holy holy holy Jesus CHRIST.

So yeah, I got up this morning and put him straight into baby-jail, mainly because the first thing he did was to romp up and down the bed like somebody’d put speed in his bottle, wrestling with me for the chance to pitch himself straight over the side and roaring when I wouldn’t let him. Eventually he started winding down—folded over on himself, whinging slightly—and then went back to sleep, which has remained the pattern throughout the rest of the day. It took ‘till 10:00 PM tonight to finally get him settled, but I have high hopes he’ll stay that way; I’d like to do a few more things than just this.

Anyway: Nice reaction to the GoNY smut snip, which certainly cheered me up a tad in terms of the general "I might never start writing again" feeling. As it stands, I’ve inputted over 1,000 words of notes for Chapter Four, and come up with at least one new observation/plot twist which will prove really useful as the rest of the book takes shape. But since none of this stuff is in linear order—and it all needs to be strung together with actual prose—this puts me, basically, right back where I started from.

Meanwhile, I’m still really liking the new Dr Who. Steve had issues with Episode Two and the Doctor’s handling of the villain’s "death", but I love Christopher Ecclestone and his high-handed, over-enthusiastic, From the North!-ness. I like that he says stupid shit he doesn’t seem to realize is hideously offensive, but then leavens it with odd kindnesses and flirtatious admiration (especially for Rose’s energy and empathy, both of which he seems to equate with her humanity). I like it that he was WRONG about the Gelf ("Pity the Gelf!"), especially so because any other moron with a basic sci-fi background would’ve just gone: Hmmm, Lights of Zetar much?, and kicked their gaseous lack-of-asses to the metaphorical curb; I also like that he was then A) amazed at their duplicity and B) embarassed by his own credulity, loudly ("I did pity you!"). Plus, you can still totally see the Russell T. Davies-as-Vince fanboyishness of it all—the whole episode was a riff on several different Whovian tropes, yet it worked on its own as well. Lovely stuff.

Similarly, The Amityville Horror made me jump more than once, and confirms (given that I was fine with Texas Chainsaw too) my total lack of distress at Michael Bay et al’s "daring" to remake 1970’s "classics". Perfect? Hells no. The explanation for the house’s cursed, all of us cursed/with no hope of a cure status is tacked-on and borderline silly—I sort of prefer James Brolin staring into that creepy pink room he found in the basement wall in the original, which is really saying something. It also reconvinces me of Ryan Reynolds’ acting powers and hotness, if nothing else; I ended up crossbreeding it with Blade: Trinity in my head, and soon found I wanted to write more snarky Hannibal/Danica, maybe a threesome with them and Asher (‘cause you know that must’ve happened), plus something gen involving Abigail’s reaction to coming across a vampire (or two, or more) that King made, back in the day. Like so:

"He seems to know you."

"Well sure, Abs, we’re famous. Death on fangs like Raid for roaches, that’s you ‘n’ me—word sorta gets around, know what I mean?"

"No, I meant he seems to know you. Not ‘us’. You."

"…uh, yeeeeaaaahhh… (Pause) Hey look, more vamps! Smell ya!"

In other news, still listening to Oingo Boingo. And that is all for now.