Venice and More

Apologies for dropping out of things lately: insanely busy trying to catch up. Lots of ways to entertain you, however. Example: read this wonderful review of Drag Noir that came out when I was literally on my way out of the country. Thanks, Plenitude Magazine and Latonya Pennington. The process of finding your audience can be slow, but when you do find them it’s so gratifying.

If you’re interested in crime writing at all, check out this issue of TEXT magazine: Crime Fiction: The Creative/Critical Nexus, edited by Rachel Franks, Jesper Gulddal and Alistair Rolls. I am very happy to have my close analysis of Dorothy B. Hughes’ The Expendable Man [PDF download].

But you want pictures, right? The whole album can be found here, but let me show you a glimpse of this amazing city (click pictures to embiggen). And there’s still the manuscript exhibit to upload!

Ah, Scotland

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Attempting to photograph the thin pink clouds in Edinburgh this morning and ended up with this impressionistic piece with the bus lights reflecting.

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A magpie’s welcome

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Trains are for the birds!

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Fields of lush green

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The silvery Tay!

It’s good to be back! 🙂 Of course I forgot to mention the waiting hours in Edinburgh Airport waiting for the first train this morning (>_<) I dozed and watched ongoing repairs (oh, the excitement!)

What are they building up there?

Orkney: Ring of Brodgar

There’s nothing quite like these amazing old monuments, is there? Mary and Amy brought me by here the night I arrived in Orkney. I tried to take a picture in the moonlight but my camera wasn’t really up to it. But it was magical to be sure.

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“Because the interior of the Ring o’ Brodgar has never been fully excavated, or scientifically dated, the monument’s actual age remains uncertain. However, it is generally assumed to have been erected between 2500 BC and 2000 BC”

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The wind was coming on strong and later would howl wildly around the house. It kept most of the tourists away, too.

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Mary waited in the car (since she’d been there many times already and it was really cold) so forgive the selfie; wondrous light though, eh?

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I don’t think I got a shot that showed the whole of the ring, but I love the light of this one.

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The individual stones are all so singular; many have cracked as the fierce winds batter them.

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They wear in fascinating ways.

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A few have fallen, or layers of the stones have split and fallen.

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The same slabs are used in construction all over the islands, but they are prone to splitting in this manner.

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But the glory of walking among them has a cost; there are jerks who still carve their stupid names on these stones that have stood millennia. Morons.

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Some destruction is natural, like this stone felled by lighting.

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The wind leaves its story on the stones’ surfaces.

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What can I say? The same word returns: magic.