Running round finding shoes and toothbrush and socks enough to last me all the way through the film. (It's rare for me to make a trip that's more than overnight bags.) Had planned to get haircut at Hair Police, but it'll now be cut in London somewhere (Although I won't walk blithely into the first corner barber's and tell them to do their worst, as the last time I tried that, during
Neverwhere filming, they did). Have decided to grow beard for next month as well. And to write the novella about Shadow and the Huldra and the giants from over the sea in the copious spare time I'll get back from not shaving.
It's a strange thing about
Coraline that a book that came out four months ago should be selling more strongly than ever. But according to the occasional children's list in the LA Times, we are:
CHILDREN'S BESTSELLERS.
I just finished some lyrics for my assistant Lorraine's new band, currently known as Folk Underground, and she says I can post them here if I tell you that they will turn up on their CD, to be called
Night of a Million Zillion Ninja. I wrote music for it too, but you have to go and see them to hear it...
.....
There are folk underground
and they don�t do a lot
but they listen to us
in the sun
And the folk underground
think as likely as not
we�ll be joining them all
when we�re done
And they shift in their coffins
And toss in their beds
While the worms lick their shins
and crawl right through their heads
And they never go dancing
they don�t make a sound
so be careful of folk
underground
There are folk underground
They can wait out your life
Which is why they were dug in
so deep
And the folk underground
dream of things they once did
for they�ve flesh and a life
when they sleep
They can wait in the dark
Without sighing or talking
They�ll sing little songs
And they sometimes go walking
They�ll come in the night
And they won�t make a sound
so be careful of folk
underground
There are folk undergound
and I envy their lot
and I hope that they prosper and thrive
For the folk underground
dream such dreams as they rot
That it�s better than being alive
And they kiss without lips
So it�s bone against bone
And it�s hips against hips
And it�s stone against stone
Though their hearts have been eaten
Their ribcages pound
With the life of the folk
underground
They can wait in the dark
Without sighing or talking
They�ll sing little songs
And they sometimes go walking
They�ll come in the night
And they won�t make a sound
so be careful of folk
underground