Kiss Me, O Muse
Above is The Kiss of the Muse by one of my favourite artists, Paul Cezanne. I am in need of that magick aesthetic kiss nigh, having been invited to work on numerous projects. One that really delights me is for an anthology of tales concerning Arkham Asylum. This was a revelation, as I always consider'd ye asylum to be in a large medical-type building--but I believe it is actually located in a mammoth antique mansion in Arkham. So although I am uncertain, I'm going with the mansion setting, as I think it will aid my Gothic imagination.
I am also preparing to work on a new book of Mythos fiction, and I am toying with ye idea of setting the tales in the Victorian era. But I know next to nothing about America in Victorian times; when I think of ye Victorian age, I think of Wilde and London and The Yellow Book. I know that I want my book to have a decidedly fin-de-siecle tone. And I wou'd want the book to have a Victorian "feel" as far as book production is concern'd. I will absolutely have at least two stories set in Victorian Sesqua Valley. Simon Gregory Williams, who enter'd mundane reality in ye 1870's, will be a featured character.
I have also been ask'd to write an essay extolling ye merits of S. T. Joshi, and that will be gobs of fun--and easily written, I think.
I'm still waiting on a number of anthologies for which I've written tales, moft of which I thought were to be publish'd this year. The one thing I dislike about being a writer is that it can often be such a "waiting game"--waiting for ye Muse to kick yr arse, waiting for a response once ye story is submitted, waiting for ye pay-cheque once ye tale is accepted, waiting for ye anthology to be publish'd. That's why it's sometimes good to have lots of work finish'd or in production.
Life has been pretty good of late. All my health concerns seem to have faded--I'm not feeling as tired as I have been for the past year, and my heart seems to be functioning well. Now and then I have ye occasional chest pain, but not too often.
I hope ye summer is treating ye well, my ducks.
The Arkham Asylum thing a ma-jigger sounds very interesting. Can't wait till you write it, submit it, get ye cheque for it and then publish it so I can buy it and then read it.
ReplyDeleteI know Gotham's Arkham Asylum was a mansion in a number of incarnations, I didn't realise Arkham's was as well.
ReplyDeleteIf you hadn't considered it, or were hesitant, might I suggest Sebastian Melmoth and/or Young Japheth Beardsley visit a Victorian/ Olde West Sesqua Valley? I recall the possibility of hijinks when a certain Mr. Wilde visited America of that time period...
Also: "Quack".
Strange coincidence. Recently finished reading Miriam J. Benkovitz's biography of Aubrey Beardsley. A passage struck me as hilarious: "...Wilde was arrested on a charge of committing indecent acts. As he prepared to leave the room in the Cadogan Hotel, where he was served the warrant for arrest, Wilde picked up 'Aphrodite' by Pierre Louys, a novel in yellow paper covers. The next morning the newspapers heralded "Arrest of Oscar Wilde Yellow Book Under His Arm."" This of course caused poor Aubrey no end of trouble (or infamy).
ReplyDeleteIt's been ages since we exchanged tapes by international mail and yet you are never far from my thoughts. Recently read your tale Half Lost in Shadow and loved it almost as much as Thy Cryptic Power. It propelled me into this rarely visited artificial realm (away from my hammock) to write (?) to you. Here's to you and your success - you've come a long way from 2 replies from an obscure interview in a Lovecraftian punk band fanzine. I can't tell you how happy I am to see your name more and more often. Ye Thing On The Bed!
Thank you. I've kept at it because I absolutely LOVE writing Lovecraftian weird fiction. The only thing that has changed is that I now write stories mainly for pro anthologies rather than obscure small press journals. But I love ye memory of yem early days.
DeleteI recommended this some time ago - try "An Anthology of 'Nineties' Verse" Symons, A.J.A. (editor) Published by Elkin Mathews & Marrot Ltd., London (1928) which has much of the decadent 1890s verse by Mr Wilde's contemporaries. The Muse is always with ye, just hidden behind her veil. All the best, G. ;-)=
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