Today is Friday the 13th. An inglorious and dangerous day. Prone to rampant murderous rampages, and all manner of unspeakable tragedies.
It is my rather sad duty to inform you all that by the time you are reading this, I shall most certainly be dead.
My untimely demise was foreseen by Chuck Wendig at WorldCon. Whilst chatting with him about the utter perfection of Blackbirds (Someone explain to me how he failed to win the not-Hugo?), he was overcome with a premonition of death. Specifically, mine. Which was inscribed in the book for posterity:
“You will die when this book literally burrows into your brain.”
How could I possibly infer today as The Day? Well what OTHER date of the year would one expect books to become self-aware and begin acting upon their primary themes?
(Note: Angry Robot is clearly in on this. The next Friday the 13th is in December. When The Cormorant will be released. Coincidence? I THINK NOT!)
My home has become the most terrifying place. My beloved books are now the enemy. Quietly sitting there. Plotting my demise.
It will start when Feed hacks my Twitter and begins gnawing on any exposed flesh. While I am trying wrest control of my electronic devices, The Wee Free Men will surely commence one of their epic drunken binges, leaving a trail of empty bottles and shattered glass strewn throughout my apartment. By that time It will no doubt begin manifesting my worst nightmares…..
My college roommates warned me that it was insane to surround myself with such sociopathic literature.
I thought about attempting to contain the deadlier volumes (Rachel recommends freezing them) – but then I realized surrounding myself with child-eating crocodiles and the like would only make things THAT MUCH WORSE. Remember The StayPuft Marshmellow Man?
At any rate, I’ll eventually end up trying to escape. Running in blind panic, unable to see the deadly traps left by the Nac Mac Feegle, I’ll suffer a catastrophic fall. It is at this point, stunned, blood dripping into my eyes, that Blackbirds will begin drilling into my skull.
I’ll admit the remote possibility that the books could kill me without going full-blown Skynet. I could end up prosiacally buried under my book hoard. A well-placed blow the temple would suffice. Or perhaps Blackbirds will fall into open mouth as I scream for help, cutting off my airsupply and ultimately killing me.
Cause of Death? Book.
Since this is Friday the 13th, you all need to be wary! BOOKS KILL. And I’m not just talking about the brain cells all the Twi-hards have lost over the years.
Consider the deaths that can be laid at the feet of Issac Asimov’s Foundation.
Although Isaac Asimov was a fierce critic of religion and New Age thinking, the Japanese doomsday cult Aum Shinrikyo was heavily influenced by his “Foundation” series of novels.
[…]
Aum was using the Foundation series as the blueprint for the cult’s long term plans. […] Asahara directed his scientists to create a variety of chemical and biological weapons to fight their enemies. When the predicted apocalypse wasn’t forthcoming, Asahara decided to take matters into his own hands. On March 20, 1995, some of his followers released sarin gas in the Tokyo subway, killing 12 people and injuring more than 5,000.
Two infamous U.S. bombers were allegedly inspired by fictional works, and serial killers/kidnappers/rapists often blame books for their crazy-ass-shit. At this point a SWAT team will shoot you for daring to read a book in their presence. Because if there is one thing U.S. police forces are educated on, it is the danger of books.
So. Fellow Book Lovers, on this Friday the 13th, we are here to warn you: Watch your books closely for signs of treachery and malice. And be wary of reading in the presence of armed police officers. They know the book is the enemy, but have notoriously bad aim, and might just shoot you by mistake.
Right now I am so glad I don’t have any scary books. I hope you survive the night Draco!
I may survive this night, but will I survive the Next? Laurie Strode and Alice did not fare to well in the sequels.
There are reasons why the Librarian in Ankh-Morpork is happy as an orangutan. One of them is extra strength, required to keep the grimoires closed.
That doesn’t stop them from whispering at night, though.
I think the night whispering of It is why my freshman year college roommate didn’t want to live with me again. She was very much opposed to the serial killing magic clown creature.
When I was young, I had a beautiful old Rackham-illustrated volume of the complete works of Poe. That book was not allowed to remain in my room at night–I’d set it in the hall at night and retrieve it in the morning. Even having it on the other side of the door was disturbing sometimes. It’s now safely (I assume) in storage.
Hope you survived (this) Friday the 13th!
Damn, I made it. Now I have to pay off the WorldCon credit card bill…..