Vol. 119 Number 444
If you haven’t seen my Halloween videos, go to Facebook.com/catherinecoulterbooks – they’re neat videos but I sound sort of dead, which fits, I guess, given all the skulls and ghosts and black cats around the house which my own kitters do not appreciate. Eli took one look at the very lifelike black cat on the sofa and went viral – got all stiff, hair sticking up straight, back arched to the ceiling, then coward that he is, he hissed and turned tail and ran. Peyton took one look, slinked out, and hid in his hidey-hole in the pillow room. (Video of this room some other day)
Book News (I want you to care about this, okay? It’s really important to me): I’ve finished editing The Resident Evil at Blackthorn Manor (hereafter called, in the vernacular, Trebm). It’s the second Grayson Sherbrooke Otherworldly Adventure, this one in Scotland, the year 1841. You can never predict what will happen in the basalt hills, och, wot a pisser! (Pisser really wasn’t said in 1841, in fact I doubt it’s spoken today in Scotland, but it sounds cool, dint ye ken?) Don’t forget, since Trebm is only about 25,000 words long, it perforce can only be an ebook. Perhaps after I’ve written three or four novella adventures, they’ll be put together in hardcopy. I hope this will happen – I mean, what fun. The Resident Evil, blah, blah, blah, will be available for your ipads and other space-age ebook delivery systems in early November.
I wonder if I could make a deal with the Halloween minions. To date, no kids ever come up the long driveway to our house to get a fistful of the treats I put in a special Halloween-decorated bowl every single year. No, I do not eat all the untouched, unwanted, ignored and disparaged Halloween goodies while in my yearly post-Halloween depression that lasts at least a quarter of an hour (can’t afford a whole day, gotta write Enigma, the 21st FBI suspense thriller).
Whatever you do on All Hallow’s Eve, do it with great creepy enthusiasm -- be scary and give out very fine goodies and not – yuck -- fruit or sugarless gum or toothbrushes. Do not be a righteous do-gooder, at least for All Hallow’s Eve -- be one with your inner Frankenstein.