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The Kinner Kings of Qeamish
Nov. 13th, 2023 09:07 amDreamed of the Kinner Kings of Qeamish. (Don’t ask because I don’t know.) I was doing some sort of report on them using a horribly antiquated, Ada-Lovelace-ish computer that could only be operated by a switch that had to be toggled back and forth. Mostly, I couldn’t get the switch to do what it was supposed to do, and this was frustrating because I couldn’t tell whether the switch was broken or I was very clumsy.
Also in the dream was a little boy with a strangely pointed forehead and nose, so curved they almost touched. The little boy was a real sweetie, and I had been charged with protecting him from the knowledge of his deformity…
###
Yesterday was productive in that I worked on some fiction. I haven’t worked on fiction in several months.
I went back to the story of Dax and began writing the section in which Edith Wharton visits the Mills mansion and has a series of experiences that roughly coincide with the opening section of The House of Mirth, except that EW almost gets raped by Ogden Mills (parallel character to Gus Trenor.)
This section is the fourth in the novella.
I’d totally forgotten why it’s the fourth section yesterday—which made it odd to write because it’s out of sequence in terms of the novella’s chronology.
I remembered this morning!
The fourth section is supposed to be EW’s notes-cum-first-draft of the novel, and it’s discovered as part of the Paris flea market manuscripts. The clue: EW’s nickname among friends was “Lily.” <--- True fact!
Yesterday’s confusion, though, means I’m going to have to go back and rewrite sentences like He’d thrown her over on the advice of his mother who’d seen in a passion for German poetry a corresponding coldness in maternal impulse, even though that sentence is perfection in terms of EW voice mimicry!
But EW simply can’t be credited with that much self-knowledge.
Anyway, I wrote 1,000 words.
And will aim for another 1,000 words this morning.
###
In the early afternoon, I went tromping. It was very cold. Winter is definitely coming:
Click to enlarge
The tromp seemed to provide the gate I needed twixt wild imagining and lucid quantification because I was able to crank out economic analysis successfully all afternoon.
###
In the evening, I watched the first episode of The Sandman.
I’m not much of a Neil Gaiman fan. Not sure why exactly: Thrice-told mythopoeias should ring all my bells, right? Except his don’t.
But I did like The Sandman graphic novels, and I liked the television adaptation—mostly because its art direction remained very true to the stunning visual elements of the graphic novel.
And I’m thinking of buying a ticket to watch Gaiman perform Dickens’ A Christmas Carol at the 42nd Street NYC Library in December because why not?
Also in the dream was a little boy with a strangely pointed forehead and nose, so curved they almost touched. The little boy was a real sweetie, and I had been charged with protecting him from the knowledge of his deformity…
###
Yesterday was productive in that I worked on some fiction. I haven’t worked on fiction in several months.
I went back to the story of Dax and began writing the section in which Edith Wharton visits the Mills mansion and has a series of experiences that roughly coincide with the opening section of The House of Mirth, except that EW almost gets raped by Ogden Mills (parallel character to Gus Trenor.)
This section is the fourth in the novella.
I’d totally forgotten why it’s the fourth section yesterday—which made it odd to write because it’s out of sequence in terms of the novella’s chronology.
I remembered this morning!
The fourth section is supposed to be EW’s notes-cum-first-draft of the novel, and it’s discovered as part of the Paris flea market manuscripts. The clue: EW’s nickname among friends was “Lily.” <--- True fact!
Yesterday’s confusion, though, means I’m going to have to go back and rewrite sentences like He’d thrown her over on the advice of his mother who’d seen in a passion for German poetry a corresponding coldness in maternal impulse, even though that sentence is perfection in terms of EW voice mimicry!
But EW simply can’t be credited with that much self-knowledge.
Anyway, I wrote 1,000 words.
And will aim for another 1,000 words this morning.
###
In the early afternoon, I went tromping. It was very cold. Winter is definitely coming:
Click to enlarge
The tromp seemed to provide the gate I needed twixt wild imagining and lucid quantification because I was able to crank out economic analysis successfully all afternoon.
###
In the evening, I watched the first episode of The Sandman.
I’m not much of a Neil Gaiman fan. Not sure why exactly: Thrice-told mythopoeias should ring all my bells, right? Except his don’t.
But I did like The Sandman graphic novels, and I liked the television adaptation—mostly because its art direction remained very true to the stunning visual elements of the graphic novel.
And I’m thinking of buying a ticket to watch Gaiman perform Dickens’ A Christmas Carol at the 42nd Street NYC Library in December because why not?
