eBay auctions for signed copies of GUILTY BUT INSANE, THE SEED OF LOST SOULS, and WRONG THINGS (with Caitlín Rebekah Kiernan) ending in a little over an hour.
http://stores.ebay.com/Poppy-Z-Brite-Si
Crossposted at Dreamwidth. Comment here or there, as you will.
http://stores.ebay.com/Poppy-Z-Brite-Si
Crossposted at Dreamwidth. Comment here or there, as you will.
For Father's Day I took Dad out to lunch, we went and browsed Value Village, and then we stopped off at Zen Dog Tea House and Gallery, a place I'd been curious about for YEARS but had never managed to get to. It's an asian-style tea house, has a gorgeous garden complete with a koi pond, and is one of the most peaceful places I've ever stepped into. I'm very glad I went there with Dad today.
The stories you may have heard are true: The Drowning Girl has won the Bram Stoker Award.
Hoarse,
Aunt Beast
Hoarse,
Aunt Beast
I'm forcing myself to pause and make an Lj entry, mostly because I suspect that if I don't I'll be sorry somewhere down the line. I'll look back in five years - a lot of assumptions at work there - and wish that I'd paused to make an entry.
Blah, blah, blah.
We're having a good time, yes. But we're both missing the goddamn cats something fierce, and the part of me that never wants to be pried out of its dark, cozy hidey hole in very much not happy about being thirteen hundred miles from home. The hotel is beautiful, and, yes, Faulkner, Hemingway, Eudora Welty, Tennessee Williams, Truman Capote, and fuck knows who else once upon a time stayed, lived, and wrote here. But the Hotel Monteleone of that time is not the same as the Hotel Monteleone of this time. Few authors could afford this place for even a single night. As you enter the lobby from Royal, there's a display featuring books and memorabilia commemorating all those literary figures who have slept here. In truth, the hotel is, I fear, an overpriced Disneyfied caricature of what it must once have been. There are suites named for various of the aforementioned personages. The Ernest Hemingway Literary Suite. Shit like that. Hemingway would probably have broken someone's jaw over such nonsense, unless, perhaps, he was first plied with liquor from the nightmarishly...well...nightmarish Carousel Bar. Oh, and all the windows are fucking welded shut, so we're at the mercy of AC that never shuts off.
What I'm enjoying is being back in the Quarter after so long. The heat is keeping us inside until after sunset, and, even then, the heat index is staying in the nineties towards and past midnight. Daytime heat indices are over 100F. But those hot nights are heaven, and Spooky and I have had a couple of long walks after dark.
I do my best to be Not A Tourst, identifying all those characteristics that mark a tourist and avoiding them.
As best I can.
I have an interview at four (CDT), then dinner with some folks at five-thirty, before a two-hour signing thingy. So I ought go. There may not be another entry until after I return to Providence.
In The Sun,
Aunt Beast
Blah, blah, blah.
We're having a good time, yes. But we're both missing the goddamn cats something fierce, and the part of me that never wants to be pried out of its dark, cozy hidey hole in very much not happy about being thirteen hundred miles from home. The hotel is beautiful, and, yes, Faulkner, Hemingway, Eudora Welty, Tennessee Williams, Truman Capote, and fuck knows who else once upon a time stayed, lived, and wrote here. But the Hotel Monteleone of that time is not the same as the Hotel Monteleone of this time. Few authors could afford this place for even a single night. As you enter the lobby from Royal, there's a display featuring books and memorabilia commemorating all those literary figures who have slept here. In truth, the hotel is, I fear, an overpriced Disneyfied caricature of what it must once have been. There are suites named for various of the aforementioned personages. The Ernest Hemingway Literary Suite. Shit like that. Hemingway would probably have broken someone's jaw over such nonsense, unless, perhaps, he was first plied with liquor from the nightmarishly...well...nightmarish Carousel Bar. Oh, and all the windows are fucking welded shut, so we're at the mercy of AC that never shuts off.
What I'm enjoying is being back in the Quarter after so long. The heat is keeping us inside until after sunset, and, even then, the heat index is staying in the nineties towards and past midnight. Daytime heat indices are over 100F. But those hot nights are heaven, and Spooky and I have had a couple of long walks after dark.
I do my best to be Not A Tourst, identifying all those characteristics that mark a tourist and avoiding them.
As best I can.
I have an interview at four (CDT), then dinner with some folks at five-thirty, before a two-hour signing thingy. So I ought go. There may not be another entry until after I return to Providence.
In The Sun,
Aunt Beast
I still would like a lot of extra sleep, the general stress level in my life to decrease, and, oh, a trip to Disneyland. Because if I'm wishing for things that are not entirely likely to happen, I might as well include that, right?
Today's outfit is, in a way, a shout-out to a.g.f folks.
The dress was made for me ages ago by Blackrayne! It recently reappeared out of the depths of my wardrobe(s), and I finished doing some minor alterations to it last night.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
Last night was ... bad. For assorted reasons. As a result there was NO WAY liquid liner was an option this morning, which meant some fiddling with sparkly red-black eye shadow to make my eyes look less swollen.
Tonight: round 1 of Goth Upkeep (bleach and pink dye), and probably some Beetlejuice cartoons.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
I've slashed prices on all original work in my shop, by 50% or more in most cases. If you think this reeks of desperation, you would be correct.
https://www.etsy.com/shop/PZBART
https://www.etsy.com/shop/PZBART
Hey all -- If you have occasion to send mail to my P.O. box, please DO NOT address it to Billy Martin. Because I have no I.D. in that name (and probably won't have it any time soon, given that I never even bothered to make my first name change legal), the box can no longer receive it. They're even holding a package hostage now, and it will probably be returned to its sender, for which I apologize. Please just address stuff to Poppy Z. Brite or PZB, thanks!
Crossposted at Dreamwidth. Comment here or there, as you will.
Crossposted at Dreamwidth. Comment here or there, as you will.
Profile
faustfatale- Christa Faust
- Christa Faust
Page Summary
docbrite : Books [+0]
- cupcake_goth : Family time [+4]
- greygirlbeast : It's true. [+60]
- greygirlbeast : From New Orleans [+9]
- cupcake_goth : Feeling better today [+2]
- cupcake_goth : Ugh. But have some Goth at the Office photos [+7]