In this morning’s edition of USA TODAY, there is a panel discussion among romance authors about their picks for Scariest Novel Ever. I was delighted to find there, amongst the less surprising appearances of The Exorcist, The Shining (and probably my fave) The Turn of the Screw, my own first novel, Lost Girls. (Thank you, Molly O’Keefe!)
Yes, it was a pleasant kick to start the day. But it triggered something more in me, a reflection on Lost Girls – a novel first published thirteen years ago now – and the interesting life it continues to lead. People still come up to me (not in great numbers, but with consistency) at readings or events to say what LG meant to them. (Just this past weekend, at an IFOA panel which I moderated here in Toronto, a woman – hi Maggie! – came up to have her Lost Girls signed – her second Lost Girls, as she lost her first and insisted on having it replaced).
It’s a book that has inspired a song (by the Pacific Northwest’s Green Pajamas), an art installation piece, and alternative cover art send to me by readers.
Anyway, I’m pleased that LG continues to poke its head up from time to time (or, more appropriately, thrust its dead hand up out of cold waters…) May you disturb sleep and discourage northern lake swims for years to come.