He shall come when you call him.

Cats have always struck me as perfect analogues for the elder gods: not so much evil as indifferent to our suffering. However, by the right combination of rituals and sacrifices (pouring out biscuits and intoning their name in a high pitched voice you wouldn’t want your neighbors to hear) they can be summoned, and while they can never be truly controlled, they can be placated.

I have two cats, one is a placid, massive male by the name of Harry (named for Harry Dresden). The other is a full sized cat’s worth of evil compressed into a feline space not much bigger than a kitten. Her name is Connie and as far as any of us can tell, we live only at her sufferance.

That’s all I have for this week. In non-evil news I’m about to start sending out queries for my novel. Writing a query is a maddening exercise. Normally I can write about three thousand words per day, but on the query it took me three days to write two hundred and fifty words. I’m just glad I have people who help me edit these things or I’d still be staring at it, praying for death.

Andrew

P.S If you like fantasy novels you should read The City Stained Red by Sam Sykes. It’s not really Lovecraftian (although Sykes does write a good demon), but it is bloody, funny and generally a damn good read.