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This morning, Steve didn't see fit to get me up until about a second before he was going to leave himself. This was a problem, naturally, since Cal was supposed to go to school for the first time this week, but we got past it. I'll pick him up at 11:00; hopefully, Rod will be by after that. And just as hopefully, we'll actually make it to Surrey Place on Friday...
Then I opened my 'mail and found the proofs for Mighty Unclean, which was cool. Attached was a flattering letter from John Everson in which I think he got me mixed up with somebody else, because he credits me for several stories I know I've never written. They sound pretty good, though...
So yeah, gotta do that over the next--day or so, I think. While continuing to hammer at Chapter Nine, aka The Chapter That Just Will Not Goddamn End, Goddamnit. However, thanks to sovay, I've gained some extra relief and impetus by being directed towards 16 Horsepower, a defunct "Gothic-Americana" band led by a rawboned, red-headed guy who (in the video for "Black Soul Choir", at least) seems to have at one point been fond of wearing his hair in two uneven little-girl pigtails. His grandaddy was a Nazarene preacher! He can clog-step! He sounds like an American Nick Cave, except A) his voice is higher and B) his accent renders the word "no" as "NAOW"! Everything this band ever recorded sounds like a soundtrack to Carnivale's lost Season Three! In other words, it is awesome.
Naturally, 16 Horsepower also ties in creepily well with thoughts of Allfair "A-Cat" Chatwin, protagonist of "Crossing the River" (soon to be seen in Mighty Unclean, hur hur hur) and her evil ilk. Particularly this track, from their first album, Sackcloth 'n' Ashes:
Black Bush
I can sense it all around me
There's somethin' in this room
It ain't magic nor no witchcraft
No bitch on no broom
Look, see his bones are gone
He done left the grave
The grip of death it could not hold him down, no
It's for him that I rave
My knees was made for kneelin'
An' that's just what they'll do
One of these days, little girl,
I'll go down an' pray for you
Look, see his bones are gone
He's done all my dyin'
Sometimes hope's so strong in me, girl
I commence to cryin'
O my brothers
These are the great dust bowl days
Just take a gander round ya
Everything in a wicked haze
"The wind blows like the devil when it blows
An' a boy grows up, an' like the wind he goes"
Okay: I'm on clock thus far, but I need to commence to writin'. See yez.
Then I opened my 'mail and found the proofs for Mighty Unclean, which was cool. Attached was a flattering letter from John Everson in which I think he got me mixed up with somebody else, because he credits me for several stories I know I've never written. They sound pretty good, though...
So yeah, gotta do that over the next--day or so, I think. While continuing to hammer at Chapter Nine, aka The Chapter That Just Will Not Goddamn End, Goddamnit. However, thanks to sovay, I've gained some extra relief and impetus by being directed towards 16 Horsepower, a defunct "Gothic-Americana" band led by a rawboned, red-headed guy who (in the video for "Black Soul Choir", at least) seems to have at one point been fond of wearing his hair in two uneven little-girl pigtails. His grandaddy was a Nazarene preacher! He can clog-step! He sounds like an American Nick Cave, except A) his voice is higher and B) his accent renders the word "no" as "NAOW"! Everything this band ever recorded sounds like a soundtrack to Carnivale's lost Season Three! In other words, it is awesome.
Naturally, 16 Horsepower also ties in creepily well with thoughts of Allfair "A-Cat" Chatwin, protagonist of "Crossing the River" (soon to be seen in Mighty Unclean, hur hur hur) and her evil ilk. Particularly this track, from their first album, Sackcloth 'n' Ashes:
Black Bush
I can sense it all around me
There's somethin' in this room
It ain't magic nor no witchcraft
No bitch on no broom
Look, see his bones are gone
He done left the grave
The grip of death it could not hold him down, no
It's for him that I rave
My knees was made for kneelin'
An' that's just what they'll do
One of these days, little girl,
I'll go down an' pray for you
Look, see his bones are gone
He's done all my dyin'
Sometimes hope's so strong in me, girl
I commence to cryin'
O my brothers
These are the great dust bowl days
Just take a gander round ya
Everything in a wicked haze
"The wind blows like the devil when it blows
An' a boy grows up, an' like the wind he goes"
Okay: I'm on clock thus far, but I need to commence to writin'. See yez.
