Two Weeks In A Row

Well all right, so far so good. I’ve managed to post two weeks in a row. Yep, I’m well on my way to making this a regular thing.

I’ve learned a couple of important things this week. Today I learned that it is important to always carry a microfiber cloth of some type when going out. I’ve been wearing reading glasses for quite a while now, but I’ve only recently become someone who wears glasses all of the time. I consider myself lucky, as everyone else in my immediate family has been wearing them for years. Still, it takes a bit of getting used to. I was given the option of getting bifocals by the optometrist, but I went with single focal length ones. A major reason for this is because I have a couple of different magnifications when it comes to reading glasses (sometimes, especially when editing, I have to bump up to the +3.0s instead of the +2.0s that I have on as I write this).

This discovery came as I was out running errands in the rain today and discovered that trying to dry off  glasses with a wet shirt doesn’t really work all that well.

Another important lesson was how effective solar pool covers are. Our new house has a swimming pool, something that I am still getting used to. The Mrs scored a free solar cover on one of the free stuff sites she frequents. It’s almost a perfect fit for our pool, just a little bit short. The only problem was it was pretty dusty. We set it out on the lawn and sprayed it off, waited for it to dry, then flipped it and washed off the other side. Unfortunately, we did this on one of the recent Hotter-Than-Satan’s-Sack days. Now we have a 10’ square patch of burnt out used-to-be-grass in the backyard. Hopefully today’s rain will help fix that.

The fine folks over at Other Worldly Culture are hard at work on next season’s program schedule. There are some exciting new additions to the podcast line-up. As soon as I know my schedule for Dead On Movie Reviews, I’ll share it here.

Listening to: You Like it Darker, Stephen King. This is a long one, but it is nice to have Mr. King keeping me company while I do housework.

Currently Reading: Submissions. The submission window for Dragon Roost Press’ next anthology just closed so I’m playing catch up trying to get all of the authors notified. The subs for this year’s Erie Tales are starting to roll in too, so I’m doing double duty on the old reading front.

Current Obsession: Evil. Thanks to a generous benefactor, I have access to Paramount+ so we can watch the final season of this absolutely bonkers television program. While I enjoy the writing and all of the actors, my favorite has to be SCTV’s own Andrea Martin as Sister Andrea.

Dragon’s Roost Press News:

We are working our way through the last of the submissions for the new Cthulhu Mythos anthology. Hopefully we will have these all read by the end of next week.

We are branching out into merchandise! Starting this weekend we will be selling canvas bags — just the right size for a couple of books — with our logo and the phrase Bookworm? I Am A BookDRAGON on them. These will available at all of our in person events.

Speaking of in person events, this Saturday (13 July) we will be at the Flint Monster Society’s Sinister Swap Meet in Flint. Check out https://thedragonsroost.biz/dragons-in-the-wild-appearances/ for more details.

Today (10 July) is the last day for preorders for K.C. Grifant’s Shrouded Horror: Tales of the Uncanny. The book is getting amazing reviews from all over. Sales will go live tomorrow on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and of course the Dragon’s Roost Press site.

And speaking of places to buy books (yep, still the King of the Segue) we will soon have exciting news about another place where you can order Dragon’s Roost Press paperbacks. Keep an eye out for the announcement.

I recently finished Bret Easton Elis’ The Shards and it has gotten me thinking. No, not about growing up in the 80s, or at least not only about that. Specifically, I have been wondering if certain books which I loved at the time that I read them would affect me the same way if I read them now.

I should preface this whole discussion with the acknowledgment that I am indeed a book dragon. For those not familiar with the term, unlike a book worm who devours books, I’m someone who hoards them. Yes, I do expect to read every book that I own. Yes, I purchase books despite the fact that I have a massive To Be Read pile.

Yeah, I’ll probably die before I read everything.

Hell, until the move, The Mrs was sure that I would die when the TBR pile fell over and crushed me in my sleep.

While there was a great culling when we moved which involved multiple donations to the public library, there are some (and by some I mean shelves) which I held on to partially for sentimental reasons. I do occasionally return to some of my favorites. Born Free, Dandelion Wine, Desert Solitaire: A Season in the Wilderness, and Pet Semetary are among these. There are books which I have enjoyed so much that I just want to hold on to them (see that hoarding dragon thing above). Included in these would be the books by authors I know. There are books which complete sets — my Stephen King collection occupies the top of the built-in in the new den. Then there are all of the autographed books…

I’ve got a lot of books, ok?

When looking, quite fondly, at some of these titles I started to wonder what would happen if I read them again. You can only read a book for the first time once (although have been known to start a book, feel superior about figuring out the end, then realize that I had already read it.). In that sense, there is always the possibility of diminishing returns when it comes to reading. The same goes for films, especially those with a kick in the gut ending. However, while you might not get that same sense of shock, you can have a better appreciation for how the work is set up in a way to deliver that shock.

My concern is the fact that my love for these books may be partially based upon the rose-tinted reading glasses of nostalgia. I dread the thought that upon a re-read I might not enjoy the books as much as I think I do/did. Or even worse, what if I start to nit-pick the writing, the characterization, the dialogue? Could I actually ruin something I used to treasure?

One of the books which I have held on to forever is Emma Who Saved My Life by Wilton Barnhardt. It was originally published in 1989 which is when I purchased the copy I still have on my shelf. I was 19 or 20 (depending upon the month), working at Waldenbooks (yeah, I’m that old), and a few years shy of obtaining my BA. In other words, I would have been right around the age of Gil Freeman, the protagonist of the story. Did I connect with this title simply because I was the right age? I sincerely doubt it. I remember being moved to tears more than once while reading it. I purchased the book in hardcover and even with my discount this would still have been an extravagance for a college student who had to get a raise every time the minimum wage went up (I think it might have been $3.35 at the time).

The same right-time-to-be-a-reader thing applies to most of the titles by the “literary brat pack” which I read as they came out. Bright Lights, Big City; Less Than Zero; Slaves of New York; and From Rockaway were all titles by authors not that much older than I was writing about characters right around the age that I was experiencing things that…

… OK, the whole thing kind of falls apart there. I didn’t go through the 80s attending fancy parties and doing blow.

(This point was really driven home while listening to The Shards. The main character was attending a pool party in the book while I was scrubbing down the side of our pool in the 90 degree heat. Yep, I might be at the pool, but I wasn’t invited to the party.)

While I enjoyed most of the works of McInerny, Ellis, Janowitz, and Eisenstadt, none of them bring back the fond memories like Barnhardt’s book. I’ll be honest, I don’t even remember much of the book (which means it would be a perfect time to re-read it). There is a sense of nostalgia which I feel that I am worried would be ruined if I were to read Emma Who Saved My Life and not enjoy it as much as I did (or at least as much as my nostalgia brain says I did). On the other hand, I could pick it up and find that joy all over again. In this way, not giving it a new read would be denying me a moment of literary happiness.

On the gripping hand, there are all those other books in the TBR just waiting to be read.