(no subject)

Shameless wench that I am, I'm copying Teresa Nielsen Hayden's blog entry for today in its entirety, because it is just so apt. But for the interesting links and comments (and they always are) you'll have to go to Making Light.

Today is the feast day of Saint John of the Cross, who in my opinion ought to be a patron saint of writers, especially writers currently engaged in the act of composition. He was a Carmelite at a time when the order was split into pro-reform and anti-reform factions. He was pro-reform. After years of working for that cause, he was kidnapped by anti-reform Carmelites, who imprisoned him for nine months in the dark, tiny, airless, unheated, and hygienically vile closet latrine of a friary in Toledo. While he was there waiting to be rescued, he wrote some of his greatest works.

After that it occurred to him that nobody was going to rescue him, so he escaped on his own.

Somewhat less impressively, I now possess Master and Commander, The Return of the King and The Rocky Horror Picture Show on DVD, all extended editions with commentaries and documentaries to salivate over, and I have not watched any of them yet. Because there is yuletide work to be done. Eep. May Saint John watch over us all. *g*