Twilight Turns From Amethyst, by Nicola Belte

I’ve never used the “Press This” function before today; I expect I should probably think rather carefully about how and when I do use it, before making any kind of a habit out of it.  But for the moment, I am just going to recommend the following horror story:

Twilight Turns From Amethyst, by Nicola Belte.

Ignorance and mass media.

My ignorance, to be clear. That title sounded a lot less snippy in my head.

Rather quick, rather flip notes, as I down coffee before work…

First; There are movies I haven’t seen. Quite a lot of them. Two that came up this morning were Scarface and Johnny Got His Gun (because the morning drive music included “Jack Sparrow” and “One”).

What else am I missing? What movies are really worth seeing (and trust me, the expectation that I’ve already seen it is not to be trusted)?

Second; So I’m on goodreads (as that widget in the lower right-hand corner may have indicated). It allows for a five-star rating system, and for me that basically seems to boil down to (1) I’m rating this because I want to establish I thought it was terrible, not that I just didn’t bother to rate it; (2) pretty bad to not-great, but with redeeming moments; (3) decent way to spend some time; (4) everyone interested in the genre or subject matter should try reading this; (5) everyone should try reading this.

There’s a whole lot of things falling into the three-star category, including some things that I’m feeling a little bad about, because they’d be four-star books if five-star ratings weren’t reserved for truly amazing things. And I’m wondering if I should reorganize, give everyone-should-try-this books their own shelf and stretch my ratings out so that there was a middle ground between “decent” and “everyone interested in the genre or subject matter should try reading this”.

I may be putting a bit too much thought into this, but I wondered.

Memories, all alone in the moonlight…

On my way home on the bus yesterday, I was flipping through my copy of American Supernatural Tales, looking to find the excellent “The Events at Poroth Farm”, when a fragment of text caught my attention:

…not an “animal of some kind,” as he put it. Something with a dragging tail, with scales, with great clawed feet–

And in the back of my head, a little voice is going wait, wait, I remember this…

–and I knew it had no face.


“The Lonesome Place”, by August Derleth.

It’s been so long since I read that that I have no idea, now, where I first saw it.  It’s been printed in a ton of places, but none of them ring any bells. I was surprised to discover it was by Derleth; I always thought of it as a children’s story, the kind of thing you’d find sitting on a shelf with A Touch of Chill and Something Wicked This Way Comes and The Witches.  It’s got a sort of calm tone to the horror, nothing giddily overbearing.  Puts me in mind of Bradbury:

“See, baby? Something bright… something pretty!”
A scalpel.

(It occurs to me, as I write this, that I might have a mildly elastic definition of “children’s story.”  Might.  I’m just tossing that out there for consideration.)

But yeah; I just thought I’d make a note of recognizing an old acquaintance, is all, one I didn’t expect to see there.

Quick thoughts.

Two things have been rattling around my head today:

A man said to the universe: ‘Sir, I exist!’
‘However,’ replied the universe, ‘That fact has not created in me a sense of obligation.’
     — Stephen Crane


“It has been said that writing comes more easily if you have something to say.”
      — Sholem Asch

I thought I had something to say.  I’m just having a little trouble placing it, right now.

Carrying on.

I occasionally wish there was someplace I could file a complaint for matters related to real life – not anything that is anyone’s fault, you understand, more little hiccups that just need to be rectified.

For example, the way stress makes you hungry without actually seeking to burn up anything in the way of fat our calories. Come on, seriously? It would just make so much more sense if the two were linked. And then I could go out after a week of trying to do three people’s jobs in the time allotted to one person, and not feel bad about the fact that I want a hamburger. I really want a hamburger.

In the meantime, however, there is a drink:



Bless the weekend.