Let's conclude on a lighter note: the tangled skein of lesser events and impressions occurring while I worked on this novel. Satan uses honey as much as vinegar to distract me. My life is filled to the brim with minutiae. Such as requests for visits and talks. I attended a teenage girl's birthday party: she had been in an automobile crash that affected her memory, so that she could not retain new experiences. She liked my fantasy, so they hoped that if I was there, it would give her something special to remember. If she returned to the hospital, and remembered, they would know she was mending. So I went, bringing her some of my books and a Xanth Calendar, and they had video cameras of the party, so as to refresh her memory. She did improve, and I hope I helped. I also addressed a college class about story writing, reading an excerpt from my story "Soft Like a Woman," which is a savage antisexism commentary, because I support education and oppose sexism. Yes, I do get mail calling me sexist; some readers take my parodies for endorsements. I addressed a local Kiwanis Club meeting; the contractor we are asking to build us a nice house on our tree farm asked me, and I want him in a positive mood as he tackles that house. There's a reason for everything, but everything takes time!

Then there's the mail. Some of it affects my life and writing in devious ways. Amidst this novel, I was concerned because of the blah period in Parry's life between Jolie's death and the arrival of Lilah. I didn't want four chapters of that. Thirty-four letters arrived in one day—they come in batches—taking me three and a half hours to read and a good deal longer to answer. One was from Pat Woods with thoughtful comment about the first four novels in this series. "You have an amazing affinity for your characters," she wrote, and I thought darkly, / wish that were true in this novel! And then something clicked, and I realized that Jolie, who really had not been fairly treated, could in a manner be restored. Not only would this redeem her, it would enliven the dull section of the novel. Thus was introduced the Drop of Blood and all it portended. I'm really glad that happened, because I did feel guilty about Jolie. Thank you, Pat.

Two novels back I corresponded with a fourteen-year-old suicidal girl I called Ligeia, after a character in the novel, and that novel came into print in hardcover in OctOgre. I received a number of letters expressing sympathy for Ligeia, several asking to be put in touch with her; one young man approached me directly about that at NECRONOMICON But I could not oblige, because of the necessary anonymity and the fact that, owing to circumstances beyond my control, I lost contact with Ligeia. No, I don't think she's dead, merely incommunicado.