You will ask how I remember all of this, conversations and small details of events that happened decades ago. The answer is that though it was only after this last visit to Dr. Gold’s that I thought to actually write it down, I have been telling myself this story again and again for the last thirty years, taking it apart and unpacking it, examining each detail as I gather brokenhearted lovers do, though I have never had my heart broken and only rarely been a lover. You will say that remembering a story is not the same as remembering the thing itself. That, I do not have an answer for. Perhaps I am wrong about things. It would not surprise me.
i really liked this more-than-a-vampire tale. it’s a leisurely-paced story long enough to fall into, and the writing is richly textured with relatable characters, a nice balance between ordinary and supernatural horrors, and some dark ambiguity to chew on pleasurably afterwards.
there were a handful of odd details that didn’t pay off, so i’m wondering if maybe this is part of a bigger thing? if it is, i would like to read it, so someone alert me if this is the case. PLEASE AND THANK YOU.
read it for yourself here: