Tag: sleeping beauty

Alive! Sort of.

Greetings from the Land of Not Dead Yet! After spending the weekend more or less unable to remain upright, I’ve now graduated to hunching over the keyboard and coughing like a chain smoker. Be very grateful that you’re safely outside of my germ radius.

I’ve not yet written my urban Sleeping Beauty story, but, thanks to M.E. Garber and Widdershins, it is now a giant irritating grain of sand in my oyster of a brain. Bone, spindle, graffiti…some words are best not combined, unless you are prepared to deal with what they conjure.

My other bedridden dreams were of the Antarctic. I recently learned of this program, thanks to my dear spouse. One might ask why he’s travel-agenting me toward the ends of the Earth…the answer is out of the goodness of his heart, of course. Despite my general down-ness on snow these days, I’m fascinated by Antarctica. Unfortunately, the closest I’ve ever come is being stuck in a line of weather-stranded flyers in O’Hare behind a woman on her way back from a research trip there.

So, somewhere in my future is a novel that takes place entirely in the Antarctic. Until then, my non-existent coffee table is laden with this book, a tome only slightly smaller than the continent itself.

Later this week I’ll post the first of those interviews I keep promising. For now, tell me about your perfect grant–where would it take you? What would you write/study/do once you were there? Tell me a dream or two.

April whimsy

It’s April, and it snowed. The snow was the end to a day in which I wandered about in the rain without my raincoat, which I didn’t have because I couldn’t find it because it was hanging on the back of the bathroom door (obviously).

In the midst of wandering in the rain, I went into a used clothes store that had also been a used clothes store way back when I was in high school. It was the place where I bought my one and only piece of cool clothing when I was eighteen. I wore said piece of cool clothing all the time until it became threadbare and tired and gave up on existence altogether. This time through, I was very tempted to buy either a sailor’s uniform (why? because) or a long black overcoat. The overcoat was so long, though, and so large, that I could have used it as a tent as easily as a coat. I decided against it.

(Why, you might ask, didn’t I just look for a raincoat? Because practicality is not one of my strong points.)

After coming home wet and tired, and with a throat that had turned the corner toward sore, I discovered a drip. Kind of like the Telltale Heart, only I hadn’t planted the drip in my floorboards, or anywhere else. This drip had located itself in the ceiling. Up into the crawlspace I went, with great enthusiasm, of course. Who doesn’t love fighting the elements in tight spaces filled with insulation?

(As a side note, I managed to spell insulation as insultation, which I really, really wish was a word. I’m sorry, but you’re about due for an insultation. Let me see what we have available.)

Then, crawl space tasks accomplished, I climbed back down. (Hey, if you have a phobia of…well, I don’t even know what the correct term would be, so, if you have any phobias, skip this next bit.) Only, things weren’t quite right. My finger hurt. A lot, like I’d stuck a nail in it. Or a staple, or anything pointy and not meant to be in fingers.

I looked down. There, sticking off my finger, was a mouse skull. Yes, my finger was impaled on a bit of bone sticking out of the eye socket of a mouse skull.

Occasionally, there are times I want to scream. This may have been one of them. I’m not really bothered by bones, or mice, or even by things stuck in my finger, but…A MOUSE SKULL STABBED MY HAND! It was like Sleeping Beauty and the spindle, only I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a fairy showdown at my christening, and I definitely don’t live in a palace, and…MOUSE SKULL. Really, it was more like the urban fantasy version of Sleeping Beauty, where she gets impaled by a bone and ends up asleep in a unused subway tunnel full of thorn graffiti that comes to life whenever anyone tries to enter it.

Okay, so then it rained more, and then it snowed. That’s more or less all the news from here, aside from my raging cold.

For those of you in the market for more hard-hitting blogging, I’ve got interviews coming! Multiple ones, with writers, about sky-diving. No, not really. About writing, of course. Perhaps not as flashy as mouse skull impalement, but trust me, writing is more interesting.

With that, it’s time for more tea and nap. (For me, though I encourage everyone else to partake as well. Tea and naps have never done anyone any harm.)