This is my favorite time of year in Texas. Cool enough to run the heat during the wee small hours of the night but nice enough to drive with the car window rolled down in the daytime or have the upstairs windows open when I’m working on the weekend. Pure bliss. When I lived in places that had an actual autumn, instead of this not-quite-summer but not yet the season that isn’t summer, I enjoyed the crisp weather and the sound and smell of dead leaves.
I finished watching my research DVDs this weekend and intend to spend the next few evenings poring over a bunch of downloaded articles to get ready to start the new novel on Thursday morning. I also finished a good working, edited draft of the heavily revised version of my 2001 story and sent it to a couple of people for feedback. The story grew from 2900 words to around 3400 in the retelling. The events of the finale have changed significantly both in content and outcome, and it makes more sense to me now than it did originally. After I hear back from my readers, I’ll do some more editing and then think about places to submit.
I watched Cold Case last night—it’s still underwhelming, but there was nothing else on—and bits and pieces of the final game of the World Series. Soon no one will know what the curse of the Bambino was all about.
We watched Georgia Rule. It was fun to see Fonda playing that sort of role (doesn’t seem so long ago since On Golden Pond when she was on the other end of the family dynamic) and Lohan was quite good. We didn’t expect the abuse thread, and especially not the way it see-sawed back and forth, nor the Mormon aspect to the story, with its chorus of tattle-tales hiding in the bushes. Not a great film—the first half hour at least seemed to have been spliced together from cuts made with a chain saw, and there were a couple of progression that didn’t feel sufficiently motivated—but okay. Just okay.
I had absolutely no time to read this weekend. Gotta get back to Fatal Revenant.
