These pages, the pages I'm reading, they're breathing. Although I have only read 3 of Lovecraft's stories so far—Dagon, The Statement of Randolph Carter, and Beyond the Wall of Sleep—each of them takes me out of the room and into a world that is so unlike anything I've ever read that it makes me feel uneasy. There is something of gothic romanticism, and something of classic horror as penned by the Stokers and the Poes and the like, yet also something of dreamy fantasy and a bit of "emotional" sci-fi that is not so much scientific as it is cosmically subconscious, the inner nucleus of thought thrown out there into the void of infinity and beyond. Of course I have only begun and haven't even gotten to the thick of the Cthulhu mythos, but Jesus Fucking Christ, what a man, what a time, what a tale.Read More
Surprisingly, after being asked to blog on above said creatures, I realized that despite having written a trilogy involving sirens, I haven't really blogged about why I picked them in the first place, on my fascination with them and such, only having touched upon them here and there in guest blog posts but never having written one solid piece. Well, this needs to be rectified, correct? Therefore, let me dish on mermaids and sirens, or, more like, let me start with rusalkas, because this is where my fascination is coming from, rusalkas and ponds and lakes and cold slimy scary things that come with it.
Back when I was this one little Russian girl, I was of course enthralled with Russian fairy tales, which are actually pretty horrific stories with deranged bears attacking old ladies, or old ladies attacking young men and frying them for dinner, and terrifying animal violence like beautiful people being turned into animals and then, well...Read More