Thursday, June 6, 2013

Utterly Seduced



"The seductive music wrapped around me, and I knew that I wanted to be clothed in nothing else.  Kicking off my shoes, I unzipped my trousers and let them fall to my ankles.  Some kind creature helped me out of them and took my book as I began to unbutton my shirt provocatively, as though it were one of seven veils.  I wished for a glass of scarlet wine to spill onto the floor, so that I could dance in its ruby pool."
                                      --W. H. Pugmire, "A Quest of Dream"
                                          from Bohemians of Sesqua Valley

Something unexpected is happening, and I am taken by surprise.    I've been feeling the Lovecraft fever more intensely than ever before, why I'm not quite sure, although I think ye upcoming convention in Providence this August, NecronomiCon 2013, has much to do with it.  I think, also, the publication of my newest book has had an effect.  I've been telling myself all year that I am simply not in the mood to work on a new book.  And I wasn't.  I've had too many books publish'd in too short a time, written in quick succession because I thought I was gonna die of a heart attack any day now.  It was like, "I can't kick-off until I've written three more books!," and so I wrote like a thing possess'd.  I wore myself out.  But -- but...  Now that I don't have any new books forthcoming, I feel a bit lost.  I've grown so used to working on a new book.  I mean, it's what I do with my life, it's my full-time occupation.

Suddenly, these past couple o' days,  I've been feeling an aesthetic itch.  Suddenly, yesterday, an idea return'd to mind for a story I've been thinking of writing for a couple of years, a kind of sequel to "Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and His Family."  I've mention'd,  in one of two of my tales set in Kingsport, that a white ape-like creature exists in the clutter of the cottage that was ye dwelling of the Terrible Old Man.  Probably something he found during his journeys as a south seas captain.  So I've had this budding idea of a woman who is of ye Jermyn line, whose father was the bastard child of Alfred Jermyn, who at age twenty had joined a band of music-hall performers, and at thirty-six had deserted wife and child to travel with an American circus.  I feel there are many things that I can do with my idea.  I can write a story with one of my favourite themes:  accepting one's own Outsider nature, and I can use the story to have a strong woman character and make some semi-feminist points; & I can use the story to mock Lovecraft's grotesque racism.

But to-day, as I began to work on the story, I felt anew that burning ache to write more and more Lovecraftian weird fiction, which is always a sign that a new book of mine own is being born.  So, what ye hell, I may have a new book out next year after all.

making love to E'ch-Pi-El


1 comment:

  1. Strike while ye Muse is hot! (Nothing like a Hot Muse to spur one to action!) Dive headlong into thee pool of imagination and see what lurks at the back of the wardrobe! Glad the Muse is with ye! G. ;-)=

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