I've tried twice now to buy a copy of Mark Valentine's collection The Nightfarers, from two different sources; both times it was lost in the mail. Between the first and second copies the price went up substantially; for a third it seems likely to be higher still. I want the book enough to pay the difference (and I did get my money back on at least one of the lost copies), but it's hard not to feel personally thwarted. To distract myself, I've been contemplating a version of these events that is a weird story in itself.
Once, twice, three times the reclusive book collector attempts to obtain a copy of the fabled "lost" collection by the little known author, driven to more unusual and disturbing sources each time. Finally, he has the book in hand, and after spending no small amount of time admiring the condition, the artwork, the binding, he begins to read. And what he finds within its pages...
Well, that's where the real writing of such a story would begin, where it would have to distinguish itself from the dozens of other "evil book" tales out there. I have one or two ideas, but now is not the time. Maybe, if I get serious about writing again, I'll give this one a whirl.
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