September 14th, 2005



More sleep last night, but a groggy morning. I think at least half of me is still dreaming, and it's probably the half that can spell. This absolves me from all typos and misspellings for the duration of this morning's entry.

I came across the following this morning, one blogger's recent reaction to Low Red Moon:

I really don’t suggest this book to anyone at all. I mean, yes, it has some interesting ideas in it, and yes, it’s well written. But it’s seriously gross & disturbing & not a book for anyone that has young children (or cares about them).

So, on the one hand, since the book is well written, thought-provoking, and disturbing, I know I did my job, the job I set for myself when I began writing the book in December 2001. But on the other hand, I'm left just a little confused. What the holy frell did this reader think she/he was getting into? Chicken Soup for the Serial Killer's Soul? This is one of those reader reactions that leaves me puzzling. Clearly, the book did what I intended it to do, and yet I have a reader here who, at least in terms of "spreading the word" and increasing my readership, is a sort of dead-end — because the book did what I intended it to. Truthfully, I've always been a little surprised that more readers aren't this disturbed by Low Red Moon. I was. I cried several times during the last few chapters. I'm not kidding. I'm still amazed that it's Murder of Angels, not LRM, that my agent thinks is the "grimmest" book I've written. She weathered LRM just fine, even though she has a young daughter, but blanched at MoA. This is the subjectivity of terror. Back when I was briefly a member of the Horror Writers of America (1994-1996), I encountered a number of writers who adamantly believed that stories should never place children or pregnant women in danger. Of course, LRM does both. I don't see the "real world" going easy on children and pregnant women, and I think for writers to exempt them for hardship would be to abandon the truth for an arbitrary and sentimental lie.

Anyway. Yesterday, I did 1,381 words on Chapter Nine of Daughter of Hounds and began to fear there may be a Chapter Ten after all. At this point, I'm just going to have to wait and see. I will not rush the end of this novel. I received additional PC copies of the sold-out lettered edition of Low Red Moon (Subterranean Press), which shall eventually find their way to eBay. I began putting the finishing touches on Monster Doodle Sculpture #2, which should be done today. I spoke with Neil and Poppy, and scarletboi called later in the evening. I answered e-mail regarding the signature sheets for Steve Jones' Weird Shadows Over Innsmouth and Cemetery Dance's Thrillers II. I discovered that I only thought I'd e-mailed Bill Schafer the corrections to the galleys of A Little Damned Book of Days. After dinner, I watched the new ep of Miami Ink, had a very yummy white peach, and read many more chapters of Pinchbeck's book on shamanism.

It has occurred to me that my website needs a serious and almost total overhaul. If I only had the time (and my web design skills really never progressed much beyond 1998 or so).

Thanks to everyone who has sent cards and letters (and other things) for Poppy and Chris so far. There's a big pile on my office floor, which will go into the mail to her today. Extra thanks to those who included a few bucks to help with the postage on these care packages to docbrite. Also, there are only two days remaining on the Wrong Things auction. Please bid. Proceeds go to help Poppy.

Hopefully, I'll write as much today as yesterday.
  • Current Music
    NIN, "Besides You in Time"