After about four hours sleep, I awoke to a pair of emails from John Bruton of Shrewsbury, Pennsylvania, who writes,
I am about halfway through "Red Tree" and am having a difficult time moving forward. I had read your short story Pickman's Other Model (1929) in the collection "New Cthulu" and found it engrossing. I liked your use of real places and names in the story (I started looking them up as I read), a device you also use in Red Tree. The problem I am having is that your main character is so unlikeable it is hard to develop sympathy for her as she deals with the various suicides and her struggle with the supernatural. Also, I'm not sure why Constance would want to sleep with her. Why would anyone? Anyway giving you the benefit of the doubt I will continue to work through the novel. Thank you for your effort and art.
Two hours later, he added,
Check that- Sara Crowe is a flaming asshole! Yes, even assholes deserve a voice, but...
This business of "unlikable" characters will haunt me to my grave. But given the degree of autobiography present in Sarah Crowe, I am, at least, amused.
Today, I need to do A and B on The Chartreuse Alphabet.
Please have a look at the current eBay auctions. Thank you.
Ten years ago today, Hubero came to live with us. Which seems utterly impossible, that so much time could have passed.
Last night, we watched Hitchcock's The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956), which is, of course, the director's remake of the same film from 1934. It isn't one of my favorite Hitchcock films, but it does have its moments.