At 03:17 6/29/2001, Christopher Angel wrote:

Actually, I didn't mean either.  Lovecraft was an author of many styles.
Unfortunately, the one he's most commonly associated with in the public eye
is the...well...the only words that come to mind is "shapeless horror".  He
was able to write in a way to specifically create a feeling of dread.

When he was trying to write like his idol (who's name escapes me at this
moment) he tends to slip into more of a mythological bent.

       I believe the name you're searching for is Lord Dunsanay. A great
writer of fiction with a "Fae" flavor. That is to say, it's not so much
the eldritch horror that Lovecraft loved so much (You should pardon the
in-joke), but fiction that had the faint, far-away flavor of things just
out of our reach.. Shangri-La.. Fields Just Beyond Our Ken..

       The sort of thing that Tolkien did so very well with HIS elven
types.. Lord Dunsanay left you with the feeling that you were a crude
lumpen being who just couldn't QUITE understand what the glorious
ethereal creatures of light and power were doing/saying/understanding.

       And that you were the poorer for it. *sigh*

       Worse yet, you got ONE chance, and if you blew it, never again.

       Here's a sample, three verses from one of his best:


       The Fairy Child

       by Lord Dunsanay

From the low white walls and the church's steeple,
From our little fields under grass or grain,
I'm gone away to the fairy people
I shall not come to the town again.

You may see a girl with my face and tresses,
You may see one come to my mother's door
Who may speak my words and may wear my dresses.
She will not be I, for I come no more.

I am gone, gone far, with the fairies roaming,
You may ask of me where the herons are
In the open marsh when the snipe are homing,
Or when no moon lights nor a single star.
On stormy nights when the streams are foaming
And a hint may come of my haunts afar,
With the reeds my floor and my roof the gloaming,
But I come no more to Ballynar.

Christopher Angel
-who is up WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too late...

       I'll see your 'late' and raise you some insomnia.
Worse, I can't even get anything WRITTEN while I'm up. Which
adds insult to the injury.

       Bugger it.

       Ed Becerra

       "Dreamers may die, but the Dream is eternal..."

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