I'm getting invited to a lot of anthologies of late, to ye point where I am nigh overwhelm'd with projects and must begin to say "no" to editors seeking stories. I've just completed and submitted ye final polish to "The Imps of Innsmouth," for an anthology that will hopefully be publish'd by PS Publishing. And I am nigh to begin tentative work on "The Harpies of Carcosa," for a King in Yellowish anthology. David Barker and I are beginning to work on four or five new shorter tales for Spectres of Lovecraftian Horror, whut will nigh be publish'd next year. The new stories will fill ye gap left by the removal of "The Revenant of Rebecca Pascal," whut will nigh be publish'd on its own as an illustrated limited edition chapbook. Work on an Enoch Coffin novel with Jeffrey Thomas has been delay'd as we both have too many other things going on, and Jeff has a full-time job -- something I wish I had.
I'll be attending the H. P. Lovecraft Film Festival and CthulhuCon in April, although walking is painful and I like to sit a lot. My publisher Dark Regions Press will have a table there, and I plan on spending a lot of time sitting there trying to persuade innocents to purchase one of the many copies of Encounters with Enoch Coffin that will be for sale there.
S. T. will be driving me up to Portland again, in May, for World Horror Convention. I think I have already register'd but am not certain it went through--it was months ago. If I haven't actually purchas'd a membership I shall simply sit in ye lobby and meet people and sign books there. Joe at Dark Renaissance Books hopes to have the first edition of The Revenant of Rebecca Pascal there for sale at his dealer's table, and my co-author on ye book, David Barker, will be at the convention, so we can both sign copies. S. T. has to leave early on Saturday--I think he has rehearsals for his choral group that night--so that will give me an excuse to leave ye con early, as two days of con life is about as much as I can take these days before getting bored and restless and bitchy.
After that I am probably finish'd going to cons. My health is simply not too good. I have a check-up consultation with my two heart doctors on ye 24th--they want me to come in "for a talk," whut hopefully doesn't mean bad news. I have no death wish, and I wou'd love to live another ten or twenty years if I'm able to spend those years writing many many books; but I feel that I have accomplish'd what I set out to do as an author--to secure myself a wee reputation as a writer of Lovecraftian weird fiction--so I feel no great compulsion to carry on living.
Shalom, my darlings.