So Long As You Write It Away

I Suppose, I Hoped, By Setting A Particularly Brutal Ancient Rite In The Present And In My Own Village To Shock The Story's Readers With A Graphic Dramatization Of The Pointless Violence And General Inhumanity In Their Own Lives.

No, The Menace Of The Supernatural Is That It Attacks Where Modern Minds Are Weakest, Where We Have Abandoned Our Protective Armor Of Superstition And Have No Substitute Defense.

I Was Already Doing A Lot Of Splendid Research Reading All The Books About Ghosts I Could Get Hold Of, And Particularly True Ghost Stories - So Much So That It Became Necessary For Me To Read A Chapter Of _little Women_ Every Night Before I Turned Out The Light - And At The Same Time I Was Collecting Pictures Of Houses, Particularly Odd Houses, To See What I Could Find To Make Into A Suitable Haunted House.

I Shall Weave A Suit Of Leaves. At Once. With Acorns For Buttons.

Oh Constance, We Are So Happy.