Exposé! I don’t have to think about vampires ever again. They were never my cuppa. When I learned they were from Serbia, not Transylvania as has been erroneously promoted, I figured I should own them.
A real Serb demystified the lore. The myth of the vampire is a technique for parents to control their children. Allegedly Serbs are prone to pranks and naughtiness and parents, driven to distraction, devised their own ‘boogie man’, the vampire.
Ergo, vampires are for kids and I shall leave them to the mainstream. I never liked them. I do not love feeling terrified. Life is scary enough, I don’t need additional adrenaline corroding my nervous system. I prefer bucolic. Beauty please, not beasts.
As a teenager I read Carrie, and it scared me sleepless. I could hardly handle nights with the lights off. Like a fool I accompanied friends to see the flick. When the hand shot out of the grave, at the end of the movie, a scene I knew was coming, I grabbed the hand of the girl to my right and I bit her. Quite hard. I have no idea why. It is vampire-ish now I think about it. Just as I said I’d mention them no further. Regardless, no more vampires.
And while I’m on a roll I withdraw my former faux-mance with the gypsies in Serbia. They’re just extreme-squatters. Picturesque in their way, biodegradable flotsam, living in the shadows, which is how they like it. By the way, for any bleeding-hearts types, they don’t want your pity they’re just too polite to say so.
Good news for me is ciao vampires. Also, I’ve a new book to write under contract with the fine Serbian publishers Laguna Press.
In honor of the new book I will buy a blood pink laptop because in the story much blood is spilled. What I’m writing about is a secret. All I can say, it’s nonfiction.