Last week I got the exciting, elating, add-any-adjective-that-begins-with-an-e-unless-it’s-exasperating-or-erratic news that FEARnet (an awesome cable network and horror website) went wild for my debut novel The Sorrows.
A couple of highlights:
“Jonathan Janz makes an impressive debut with The Sorrows, a gruesome confection that blends beloved elements of B-movies and pulp novels in a wickedly fun read. Reviews of the book, which came out in December of 2011 from Samhain Publishing, have drawn comparisons to Richard Laymon, comparisons which proved to be dead-on.”
“The Sorrows is what paperback (or, these days, eBook) horror novels are all about – an engaging premise, a spooky location, lots of blood, a terrifying creature, and, ultimately, a satisfying read. Janz has set the bar high with his debut, but I have a feeling he’s got a lot more tricks up his sleeve.”
So there you go.
And as happy as that review made me, I’m plagued with an ominous feeling tonight. You see, a family we’re friends with got violently sick a few days ago, and members of my family happened to be around them the day after, and…
Yeah. My son got incredibly ill last night (I sound like a Facebook post, don’t I? I SWORE I’d never talk about my vomiting children. BAD daddy! BAD DADDY!). One of my daughters then did her best Linda Blair impression (about seventeen times, the final eruption occurring just after four a.m.—Did I mention I’m the designated nausea nurse and regurgitated-mess-cleaner-upper in our house?). My youngest (fifteen-months-old) seems to be okay thus far, but my wife took her turn feeling like sweating death earlier this evening.
Which leaves me.
So here I sit, blithely typing a blog post, but deep down knowing that my time very well might be coming.
Wish me well. I’m going to read some Jack Ketchum. Let’s hope that’s as disturbing as my night gets.
*takes deep breath, hits Publish, and steps tremblingly away from keyboard*