Lovecraftian Extremist

The next book is completed at last, and I confess that I am rather excited about it.  My collaborator, David Barker, has completed his portion of the last story, whut is set entirely in H. P. Lovecraft's dreamland.  I wrote an initial draft of around 9,000, to which David added his own story at around 11,000 words.  It was delicious to work entirely in the dreamworld setting.  The new book, Spectres of Lovecraftian Horror, is, I think, extremely diverse in tone and content.  I am reprinting therein many of the wee dreamy prose-poems and vignettes that I wrote for that marvelous publication, the LovecrafteZine, edited by Mike Davis, one of the kindest and moft devoted Lovecraftians I have ever known.  The new book shews again how profoundly the superb weird fiction of H. P. Lovecraft has influenced me--and continues to do so.  Lovecraft's world popularity increases exponentially, and new editions of his excellent and ingenious weird fiction continue to be published.  Gawd, I am SO EXCITED to see the publish'd version of The New Annotated H. P. Lovecraft, edited by Leslie S. Klinger.  I was sent ye arc edition, but the hardcover edition will be a thing of beauty, and I ache to hold it in me claws.  I shew'd ye arc edition in a video on YouTube, let's see if I can find it.....

This is ye second of two videos in which I shew ye book.  But we also have, forthcoming from Hippocampus Press, The Variorum Lovecraft, probably also available in October.  And any day nigh will see ye release of S. T.'s collected writings on E'ch-Pi-El, Lovecraft and a World In Transition, an enormous volume and one that my eyes burn to devour.  My mania for Lovecraft and books about him 

remains at fever pitch.
     Indeed, it may be said that I am an obsess'd Lovecraft extremist, & that the disease grows and grows as I enter my final years.  I am, perhaps, overly defensive of Lovecraft's character and Art, but I grow so weary of the narrow-minded morons who entirely dismiss HPL because of his racism, or who insist that Lovecraft was a bad writer.  The more I study Lovecraft's life, the more I admire him as a human, despite his extremely grotesque racism, which touches me personally because of my Jewish heritage.  It is as a writer of genius and originality and stunning power that I idolize Lovecraft and try to emulate him in my own creative work.  I am trying not to comment on discussions or threads that continually dismiss Lovecraft's writing, because I get too worked up.  If I know of a writer who has suddenly disowned Lovecraft as a person or an artist, then I no longer read that writer's work and rid my library of their books.  (There are few exceptions--but, if Laird Barron suddenly decided he hated Lovecraft, I wou'd continue to read him, because I so admire Laird as a human and adore his magnificent work.)  

I keep getting stuck on my attempt to begin an Enoch Coffin novel, that I hope to write with Jeffrey Thomas.  Indeed, writing has been difficult of late, not because of block, actually, but because of apathy.  I just can't be bothered to try and write.  I'd much rather sit in my recliner and read read read.  I did write a new wee tale set in the hills outside of Arkham, and S. T. has accepted it for Black Wings V.  I am nigh trying to write a new thing, "The Black Winged Ones," but every beginning proves to be a false start.  It might be the summer weather--I abhor extreme heat; but nigh the days are cooling and fall draws near, delicious autumn.  And there is Lovecraft to return to, again and again, where I sink into ye riches of his fantastic fiction and therein find my self.  Ia, Ia!