In Praise of Gloom

I fear I’ve communicated my love of cloudy days to my little boy. Since I write under a pen name, I’ll give my son an alias too.

We’ll call him Dash.

He’s awesome, of course, and like me, he loves all things spooky. At some point I must have let slip to him that while I love the sunshine, cloudy days always make me feel even happier and cozier because they’re better for writing and reading. Not that sunny days aren’t nice, mind you–really, I’m just grateful to be alive and don’t mind any weather that doesn’t kill me. And I love sunsets as much as the next guy. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

But I get extra shivery when the sky is the color of slate, gunmetal, or insert your other poetic-gray-substitute.

Dash takes it to another level. He cheers when it’s overcast. When the sun and clouds are battling for supremacy Dash actually roots against the sun to come out. If it does, he groans and boos.

Should I feel guilty about this?

In other news, the big Samhain Horror launch is fast approaching. In the coming months, I hope to assault you with a macabre parade of horror writers, who I’m sure also appreciate gloomy days…though not with the same fanaticism of my little boy.

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