Due to slow and inconsistent internet connectivity, some of my activity online is occasionally truncated or lost. I’ve had a weekend full of events interrupting my solitude, so in a few spare moments I tried to update my Goodreads lists and post some reviews, and in this process my brilliant (???) review of Terence Hanum’s “All Internal” vanished, and my review of the much more well known “American Psycho” posted as a blank page.
If you think about the book “American Psycho,” that’s kind of perfect.
Maybe sometimes genius is the ability to accept the consequences of mistakes, to allow others to misconstrue your intentions, and to remain impartial while watching the chain reaction of events like a crazy domino construction collapse into beautiful and specific order.
Maybe I’m just saying this because I’m trying to let go, trying to leave all the Isms out that censor free speech. There’s this terrible nice adult part of me that doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. But I ask you, sweet reader, if I’m kind enough to label my work horror–which is not my obligation and not always completely true–are you not asking to be hurt?
Horrorsong 