Friday, January 22, 2016

Ye Inescapable Influence

I have started working on a new story for a second collection of Enoch Coffin tales that I am writing with Jeffrey Thomas. Jeff and I initially agreed that, unlike our first book, this second collection would not be Lovecraftian. So what am I doing to-night? I'm rereading "Out of the Aeons" in S. T.'s edition of Medusa's Coil and Others: The Annotated Revisions and Collaborations of H. P. Lovecraft  (Arcane Wisdom, 2012). First, I want to set ye tale in Boston, and "Out of the Aeons" has that city as its setting. Second, I wanted a sexy beginning for the story, & ye idea came to me to have two or three persons wrapping moist gauze around Enoch's naked body as part of a bizarre "art project" in which they replicate in living form the mummy of ye Cabot Museum. Such is my wonky memory that--although I have read ye tale numerous times--I cannot now remember how the story ends or the fate of the mummy. Anyway, that's as far as I've gotten in doing a mental "outline" of ye tale--and it isn't much. But often ye alchemy of inspiration comes during ye creation of a rough draft. Sometimes all I need is just that wee germ of an idea, and then when I begin to type ye rough, the imagination does its magick and ye ideas begin to flow. I'm not really interested in making this any kind of Mythos tale, but it will be what it will be. (I confess that I have a mighty attraction to ye idea of having some few references to Friedrich Wilhelm Von Junzt--but I'm fighting it.)  

I have one other idea for an Enoch Coffin story, concerning a woman artist, perhaps elderly, who is no longer seen in public. Although she doesn't dabble in magick to ye extent that Enoch does, she has accompany'd him to two or three covens and their ceremonies. When Enoch finally goes to call on her, he complains about her anti-social behavior. He wants to take her out for lunch, and perhaps to a gallery or two, as Boston has some fascinating new exhibits. She cannot attend, she tells him. "I have lost the day." "Whatever do you mean?" "I no longer experience the day. I exist in never-ending night."

Okay, back to my Nameless Research.

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