Where did all those days come from?

I'm a lazy slacker bum, and I've had a cold for two and a half weeks. Blagger-blech, damnation.

Have finally entered a place holder for a Henneth-Annun challenge, "How Do I Love Thee?," entails writing love poetry from a Tolkien character's point of view. Now that I really think about it, the possibilities are almost endless (quick: think of one who doesn't love something, if not someone. Doesn't have to be happy poetry!) But of course I swooped down on one whose own mad versifyin' skillz have been forever overshadowed by those of her man (ain't that always the way) - the River-Daughter herself, Miz Goldberry. Now I'm going nuts trying to really find her voice, because Tom's keeps getting in the way.

Some nature would help too. I have lots of memories of creeks and little rivers draped in trees by golden late-spring late-afternoon light. But it's 30-something F and wild, windy, and grey in Chicago.

Meanwhile, In a Bathhouse at Midnight, that book on Russian magic, is fascinating. Rich, dense, heavy, and full of material that might find some of itself assimilated into the post-Ravenous Potterverse cycle.

On other subjects: quick, how long do you think before the Jessica Lynch story becomes a made-for-TV movie? I give it six months.

Where did all those days come from?

I'm a lazy slacker bum, and I've had a cold for two and a half weeks. Blagger-blech, damnation.

Have finally entered a place holder for a Henneth-Annun challenge, "How Do I Love Thee?," entails writing love poetry from a Tolkien character's point of view. Now that I really think about it, the possibilities are almost endless (quick: think of one who doesn't love something, if not someone. Doesn't have to be happy poetry!) But of course I swooped down on one whose own mad versifyin' skillz have been forever overshadowed by those of her man (ain't that always the way) - the River-Daughter herself, Miz Goldberry. Now I'm going nuts trying to really find her voice, because Tom's keeps getting in the way.

Some nature would help too. I have lots of memories of creeks and little rivers draped in trees by golden late-spring late-afternoon light. But it's 30-something F and wild, windy, and grey in Chicago.

Meanwhile, In a Bathhouse at Midnight, that book on Russian magic, is fascinating. Rich, dense, heavy, and full of material that might find some of itself assimilated into the post-Ravenous Potterverse cycle.

On other subjects: quick, how long do you think before the Jessica Lynch story becomes a made-for-TV movie? I give it six months.