"[A]t their word
of command many millions of brainless, besotted beasts would stretch forth their noisome talons
from the slums of a thousand cities"
- H.P. Lovecraft, from The Street (short story)
For the past year, or so, I've been slowly reading through Lovecraft's complete works (it's quite the daunting task, specially when combined with the other antologies and collections it has to contend for time with). This story, one of his early ones, is a non-horror story (quite uncommon), heavily tinted by nationalism, xenophobia, and nostalgia. I liked many of the scenes conjured in the story, of stout houses and stalwart men, but the line above was specially eye-catching.
Careful of the tone thermometer, though. The "gothic"--although you may like it here--is difficult to write in. I want you all to practice the fundamentals before you get into genre writing (fantasy, gothic, horror, sci-fi, etc.). Those require even further, genre-specific skills.
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