The Hubby came home the other day to tell me about an article he saw (or maybe it was a report on the radio) about the popularity of vampires today. “Hurry up and finish that book,” he said.
Eh. The book is mostly done. It needs editing, of course, because I hate editing, but that’s not why I haven’t been working on it. I loved writing vampires before they became popular. Now that they are everywhere, I’m bored of them. I’m not bored of MY vampires, mind you, the insouciance is more general in nature.
I tried to read TWILIGHT and found the writing ‘style’ atrocious. I watched the first season of TRUE BLOOD when I found the DVDs on sale, but I don’t care that I can’t see the new episodes without HBO. Cruise ruined Lestat, but Townsend made up for him later. I’ve read vampire romance and vampire horror and vampire suspense. I haven’t found any that I’d proclaim “Must Reads”.
So if nothing is A-list why not finish my book? I can’t answer that. It’s not what The Muse wants. Not really. I’d like to see more vampire horror – more of the monster, and less of the gothic prince – but I’m just not into it. I’ve always been the Underdog and, I suppose, with the vampire genre going crazy, I’m less interested in throwing more fuel on the fire. Maybe once the fire dies down to the softly glowing embers they once were, I’ll try again. Maybe. The Muse may have other plans in mind. I’ll defer to her magic.