Wingstubs are pissing me off. Took Clonazepam last night. Slept well, but still in pain.
Ducked out of work a couple hours early yesterday to catch a matinée of The Village with Matthew. M. Night Shyamalan hasn't been able to repeat the oooo-factor of Sixth Sense. He's trying. You can see the formula grinding away in the movies he's made since: good actors and acting, paranormal happenings, twisty twisty twisty. But this time the twists were rather on the lame side. I predicted the "big" revelation way, way in advance, and there were some rather gaping plot holes. The acting, however, was excellent, as was the cinematography. The young Howard lass did a damn fine job. I also like how Shyamalan consistently tries to make all of his characters sympathetic. But in the end, The Village was disappointing.
- Received an almost 6.5 month reject from Aurealis. It's a checklist with a few personal lines at the end with an invitation to submit more. I don't think I'll be submitting to them again in the future. Don't have anything against them, but their response times are rather long, and they don't accept esubs. The postage to airmail manuscripts to Australia is ridiculously expensive.
- Also a nearly 3-month "Dear Writer" form reject from Henry Holt BFYR for a SF transitional chapter book project. Ouch.
- And, two more critiques of "Masques of Love" from Critters.org came in this morning. WTF? Why is my story still up? Why hasn't the next batch replaced it? Wha--?