September 1st, 2009


Of Vampires and Country Villages

Varney the Vampire is by James Malcolm Rymer (or possibly Thomas Prekett Prest--there's apparently a controversy. Who knew?) I read it (or parts of it--it's almost 900 pages long in the original, and I'm positive my Dover edition was much shorter) once, years ago, and remember exactly nothing about it. Wikipedia informs me that Varney (that's Lord Varney to us) could go out in the daylight and was unmoved by crosses and garlic, which might have been among Stoker's contributions to vampire lore.

But I digress.

The weather's been a patchwork of sun and cloud, as our days have been a patchwork of solitude and sociability. We've checked our email in Terri's office, lunched at The Three Crowns on grilled sardines (some disassembly required) and smoked mackerel, and I sat all day yesterday in the little garden room of our cottage, trying to turn my smokin' Steampunk Holmes pastiche in a more YA-ish direction. The Queen Mary would be easier, with a canoe paddle, but I'm cautiously pleased that I was able to write at all.

Today, I shall take a walk--I don't know where--and try and work out the actual plot. I can only really plot while I'm moving. Perhaps it has to do with forward motion.