I'm Just Sitting On the Shelf

Did any of y'all see the movie Elf? Even if you don't like Will Ferrell (and I do, at least sometimes), Zooey Deschanel did a smoky rendition of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" (while in the shower, no less) that blew me away. Now she's got an album coming out from Merge Records, made with M. Ward, and it's streaming over at the Merge Records site. I nearly quit listening during the first track, but the second ("Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?", which I know I've heard somewhere--I'm thinking it was a soundtrack, since I never listen to the radio) is wonderful, and the rest is likable if a bit uneven. (This link especially for mrdankelly.)

Am so far spending my vacation struggling with a story that I started back in January. It's at 8700 words and I can't see the end yet. AGH. Despite my frustration at the slooow progress, I'm liking where it's going. Recently my short stories have mostly been very contained, almost entirely thought out beforehand. It's like I've known the dimensions of the story-box even if I wasn't certain of the contents--I think they're good stories, but they're also complete thoughts, or nearly so. This story has tentacles, and it keeps on moving between states, so there's really no point in trying to assemble the box. Every time I think I know what it's about, it changes. And I'm thinking that maybe that's what I need right now, because I've been feeling a little constricted by outlines and word counts and marketability and those sorts of things that I have never been very comfortable with. I'm going to try not to worry about where the hell I'm going to sell something like this once it's finished.

In other news, I can't stand the news anymore. Whether it's random talking heads informing me that prostitution is a victimless crime or once-sensible people claiming that people who think they are racist are SEKRITLY racists themselves, I am officially tired of everyone. Shut up shut up shut up.