Is that the face of lunacy, of daemoniacal obsession? I begin to worry about my mental state. I cannot stop obsessing about H. P. Lovecraft. I cannot resist going to forums and beginning Lovecraft threads where I insist that H. P. Lovecraft is an extremely important American fantasist. And when the fools disagree with me, when they cannot comprehend the truth of my convictions, I howl at them for their stupidity. I howl.
|howling like an obsess'd lunatic fanboy|
Perhaps -- mayhap it is but ye growing fervor that boils in my brain in anticipation of NecronomiCon Providence 2013 -- &, my gawd, if I'm this bad nigh, whut will I be like after a week of intense Lovecraftian splendor? Great Yuggoth! Perhaps I have caught this infection from having S. T. Joshi live in town and visiting me so oft, & spilling into my soul his own Lovecraftian ecstasy.
Or maybe it comes from my insane over-productivity as a writer of Lovecraftian weird fiction. My graces, I've written so much these past few years, like one caught within a whirlpool of Lovecraftian euphoria. Enough already. I shall not publish a new book for two years. (but....but...you love having a new book publish'd, you're as happy as a wee child on her birthday...especially when your publisher does such a wondrous job in bringing forth a beautiful volume with sumptuous illustrations...)
(but you also have this thing, this paranoia, about misprints. Like on page 63 of the new book, where you typed "destiny" instead of "destination", or in the same story where you used the word "queer" about ten or fifteen times, such ridiculous overuse. You've got to become more polish'd & professional; perhaps reading your docs slowly and aloud will help you to maturely proof your texts)
Anyway. Now I am determined to restrain this impulse, this craving to tell the clueless world that H. P. Lovecraft is not only a good writer but a great writer. I need to resist the lure of forums, where my passion for Lovecraft cannot be comprehended. I need to danse my ecstasy in ye privacy of my living room, where only the walls and the cats need hear the echoes of my Lovecraftian euphoria.
Am I strong enough???
|I think I am extremely lucky to have ye writing of such books as my full-time occupation!|