Dear Mr. King.
Dear Mr. King;
Hope you're having a wonderful October. Mine is going pretty darn well, except for the part where I can't talk right now. OVFF went even better than I'd hoped that it would (again, except for the loss-of-voice part), and work has been reasonably mellow since I got back. The weather is really very nice for this late in the fall, and the serious rains haven't even started yet. Honestly, I don't think I could ask for too much more without becoming greedy, and when you get greedy, the universe tends to smite you. I'm aware of that.
All that being said, however, do you think it would be possible to stop making me cry on the BART train on the way to work? I know, I know, it's my own fault, but...your books have a reputation for being dark, gritty and disturbing, and full of things that should make me curl up with revulsion, not weep bitter, sorrowful tears. Having my fellow commuters glance over to find me sobbing over Pet Sematary or Black House doesn't do much for their impressions of my sanity, and I have to ride the train with them every day.
So what do you say -- can I get warning labels, or something? 'The following passage has been specially certified to make Seanan break down and cry'? I'd be ever so grateful. Be your best friend and everything.
Yours always,
Seanan.
Hope you're having a wonderful October. Mine is going pretty darn well, except for the part where I can't talk right now. OVFF went even better than I'd hoped that it would (again, except for the loss-of-voice part), and work has been reasonably mellow since I got back. The weather is really very nice for this late in the fall, and the serious rains haven't even started yet. Honestly, I don't think I could ask for too much more without becoming greedy, and when you get greedy, the universe tends to smite you. I'm aware of that.
All that being said, however, do you think it would be possible to stop making me cry on the BART train on the way to work? I know, I know, it's my own fault, but...your books have a reputation for being dark, gritty and disturbing, and full of things that should make me curl up with revulsion, not weep bitter, sorrowful tears. Having my fellow commuters glance over to find me sobbing over Pet Sematary or Black House doesn't do much for their impressions of my sanity, and I have to ride the train with them every day.
So what do you say -- can I get warning labels, or something? 'The following passage has been specially certified to make Seanan break down and cry'? I'd be ever so grateful. Be your best friend and everything.
Yours always,
Seanan.