I wrote about the bookstore again. I’d pitched a compilation of my zines but that was deemed “too artistic”. Don’t know what that meant. I waited a couple months and pitched this new thing having seen they like to profile bookstores.

I think the zines are a lot closer to what I want to be doing than this new thing but writing in a mode that splits the difference between journalism and personal essay is muscle memory by now. Low stakes. It’s the thing I’ve been trying to quit but sometimes still dip back into. A lot of the reason is Zona Motel, which has an audience I otherwise don’t have access to because of my social-media policies.

Contributing to Zona is a compromise. It gives me a nominal presence on a platform I quit a couple years ago and doesn’t require me to do any of the things I can no longer stomach, like performing some kind of online identity. They’re nice and even pay a little.

Another thing I thought I quit was the horror movie podcast. But I’ve been dipping my toe back in. A lot of the reason is that Mallory is more or less becoming my publisher—having put out Moby Dick and promising to put out others.

Monday morning we recorded a talk about Daughters of Darkness (1971), starring incomparable ice queen Delphine Seyrig and a guy who would go on to play the angry, frustrated husband of one of the cops on Cagney & Lacey on 80s TV. It’s a cold, stylish riff on vampire lore with allusions to Nazism and general European post-WWII malaise, but what’s most refreshing about it is that it doesn’t spoonfeed or over-explain much of anything. It’s a mood, as the kids used to say.

My show continues at the bar. People seem to dig it. A few pieces sold. Here’s what’s left.

My brother asked for a print of my Marvel Universe painting. You can get one too.

Krystle now sells her amazing zines direct, cutting out Etsy or any other middlemen, so go get yourself some already!