My brain is boiling, I think.

The weather guy said we’re headed for triple digit temperatures this weekend, and it’s not even July yet. Whew. I think it’s safe to say that it’s hot. I know it’s a fictional concept, but I always feel like I’m getting Sebacean Heat Delirium this time of year – and this year is no exception.

I don’t want to do anything when it gets really hot. I don’t want to leave the house (obviously), but I don’t even get much done in the house, despite the air conditioning. I can barely think clearly most of the time.

I can barely string together this post, frankly.

I think I was never meant to live in this climate.

I totally forgot the point I was trying to make here, but I’m going to post this anyway, as a testament to my boiled brain.

“Because authors are read, beloved, and remembered, not for what they do wrong, but for what they do right, and what Lovecraft does right is so incredibly effective. He’s a master of mood, of sweeping blasted vistas of despair and the bone-soaking cold of space. He has at his command a worldview that the average human being, drunk on our own species-wide egocentrism, finds compelling for its sheer contrariness.”
Elizabeth Bear