Cassander Di Angelo, from “Thus Saith The Lord: Book II."

I dreamed last night the most depraved, senseless and bizarre dream I've ever dreamt in my lifetime so far. The kind I believe Le Marquis de Sade would have appreciated greatly. Am I going to write it down in my journal just in case it could serve for a story in the future? Absolutely. Will it actually be useful one day? I profoundly doubt it.

I was thinking about my untitled novel just now. And I am thinking about them: Victor, Henry, and Helen. They live like recluse, in the family house in Yorkshire, less by choice than circumstances. Hubert compares it to the Garden of Eden (‘all of them stood there, angels in the Garden of Eden, and I couldn't look away’.) The first half of the book happens before the Fall. But the moment Hubert learns about what's actually going on is akin to the moment he eats the apple. And Eden, in all its past splendor, turns into the last panel of Hieronymus Bosch' Garden of Earthly Delights. Sinister. Depraved. Senseless. Hubert goes on to discover how rotten, how ugly they all actually are under their picturesque beauty. Incestuous. Toxic. Unstable. And he could put an end to this. He certainly could. But he doesn't. And when things inevitably go out of hands, when he wants to turn back because it went too far, much further than he ever anticipated, it's too late. Acta est fabula.

do you listen to music when writing ? what songs have been inspiring you at the moment ?

I prefer to write in silence, but sometimes it does happen that I listen to music while writing. Rarely, but it happens, especially if it's tied to a scene. I noticed, though, that music inspires me when I am not writing. It makes me visualise scenes I could write about, or details for characters, or places.

As for the music that's been inspiring me lately: a lot of Glenn Gould, his recordings of the partitas especially; Bruno Coulais' In Memoriam; some Sibelius; Bach's Mass in B Minor; Angelo Nicola Giuliano's Equilibrium; Schubert's Serenade... Of course, there are more. But these in particular have been on repeat for the last couple of days. I also listen to the playlist I made specifically for Thus Saith The Lord. Each track corresponds to a character or to a specific scene.

Hello! 👋 What motivates/inspires you to write and keep writing?

For one, I cannot not write. I am a storyteller, I've always been, ever since I was a child and I'd go as far as to say that it's literally in my blood. As a child, I used to write plenty: short stories; novels; poems, that I would hang on the door to my bedroom; but also and this, all of my family remembers it, I used to improvise stories aloud for my siblings. Oh, well, you can imagine they were all silly stories (I was only a child trying to entertain smaller children after all), but it doesn't change the fact that I was still expressing my nature, as a storyteller. I don't think this is something that'll ever leave me — how does one escape themselves?

One of the things that motivates me is giving to other people as much as I give to myself through my writing. For my novel to be the reason they stay up at night reading or do not hear their mothers calling to them that the dinner's ready. To bring them into another world, even for a brief instant, and make them forget about their reality. And if they don't forget, to have them feel seen, or come to terms with their own feelings, the way Fyodor Dostoevsky has more than once helped many of us throughout the centuries. Which brings me to these quotes by James Baldwin:

“You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read. It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, who had ever been alive.”

“You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone. This is why art is important.”

This, exactly this, is what motivates me most, aside from the sheer joy of creation.

fav self-help book ?

“How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found.”

I am invading askboxes today! Please accept this question;

What genre are you interested in writing in, but haven't tried?

Quite frankly, I don't even think I've read too many of them but historical fiction sounds very interesting to me. What I'll say might sound disturbing but I've always been morbidly interested in historical figures such as The Marquis de Sade, for example. Perhaps write something that's set during the events of 1789 in France, with themes of libertinism, depravation, morality and hedonism? And make it a novel in the vein of De Navarre's Heptameron at the beginning but have it slowly descend into a more complex narrative as the corruption grows? I'm thinking about it.

Another thing I would love to write is a Southern Gothic novel. I am really into novels such as A Choir of Ill Children, The Devil All The Time, Wise Blood, and Child of God. I am absolutely into it even, to the point that it is actually difficult to believe that I haven't written anything in this vein yet.

Romance is a genre I am not generally interested in, particularly because I think I am quite awful at it and also, I must admit it, this is not the genre of books I pick up of my own volition. Nevertheless, I like the idea of writing something deemed as ‘romance’, but that is just as evil, twisted and taboo as Brontë's Wuthering Heights or even Nabokov's Lolita — which, let's remind it for the late crowd, is not a romance. And to be honest, this is what I intend for my still untitled novel to be. I want to write an unfathomably terrible novel, to write evil in all its nuances. Not demons nor serial killers, for my conception of evil here is found in human relationships. I want violence, betrayal, incestuous love, perfidy! And I want to fool you into thinking this is a love story.

This last one is very ambitious, but if I ever feel bold enough, and if I ever get an idea that permits it, I'd like to write an epic poem or a play in verses — with poetic metre and all, I mean, and certainly not poetry à la Rupi Kaur. Works like Paradise Lost, The Divine Comedy, The Aeneid and The Iliad are often in my mind. There's tremendous beauty in them, tremendous humanity and violence also, in their poetry. This is something I'd be ready to spend over a decade on if I'm ever blessed with the inspiration to write it. Although, of course, I am aware this is perhaps not the kind of things a modern audience would find pleasure in reading.

I don't know how many of these I'll actually get to write, nor do I know if I'll write them at all, but we'll see. Fate always has an enchanting way of surprising us.

You don't understand, I want — no, I need one of these. My life will only be complete when I'll have a big, dramatic wooden desk.

What must a girl do to get a copy of T. S Eliot's poems that includes both The Death of Saint Narcissus and The Love Song of Saint Sebastian? I know Eliot suppressed the publication of these early poems but by now there must exist an edition of his complete work that includes both of them, right? Or do I have to make it myself?

What do you eat and drink when writing ? I have yet to find the perfect snack.

It depends, really. My favourite thing to have when writing is a cup of bitter black coffee paired with two or three squares of the most bitter dark chocolate I can possibly find. I like to dip them in the coffee before to eat them, even. But if I am stressed, I'll trade the coffee for a cup of tea; preferably Assam, Jasmine or Scottish breakfast. As for actual food, I generally don't have anything in particular. As a matter of fact, on a good day when the writing flows well, I tend to forget to eat until my stomach actually lets me know it needs food.

you talked about making an audiobook for tstl and now i need to hear you read an excerpt. please please please.

I apologise for replying to this days later, but I did prepare a quick something for you while I was offline. However, I'm afraid my accent is terrible as of now — remnant of French roots, you know; but if this doesn't scare you then, by all means, enjoy!

THE TEXT: I have never really been a believer, for that reason I am unsure what prompted me to enter on that particular day. Some will attribute it to fate. Others will say that it was probably God who subconsciously instilled in me this sudden instinct to go in. Nihilists will argue that I did so of my own volition, which I believe I did - I walked in on my own accord. Yet deep down, I think the real reason I came to this holy place was a matter of coincidence - it was Saturday night. I never quite liked Saturday nights. They were always dull evenings; there were no girls to undress, no places to go or people to meet, but no desire to stay in either. In short, I had this gnawing feeling that I was wasting my life away and that soon, at some point, probably sooner than I imagined, the abhorred shears of fate would slit the thinspun thread of my life before I had even experienced anything worthwhile.

cass my love oh my god??? I just read your excerpt and holy fuck i need you to be published ASAP RIGHT NOWWWWW

Amazing Showstopping Brilliant I’m in awe of you everyday

Jess my beloved!! Thank you so much for your support oh my god it means so much to me. ISTG ONE DAY YOU'LL HOLD IT IN YOUR HANDS AND I'LL WRITE A LITTLE MESSAGE IN IT JUST FOR YOU

I want to thank all the lovely people who are following me here. I just realized this blog has now 155 followers, and while it might not seem much to someone else's eyes, 155 people seeing what I write is definitely a lot to me who used to never share her work anywhere. I am so grateful for the kind people I met here and some of y'all will definitely end up on the remerciements page of the first novel I get published.

Once it'll be published, I'd really like for Thus Saith The Lord to have an audio version available, which would be read by me — if I ever manage to have an acceptable English accent. In the same way T.S Eliot or Sylvia Plath have been recorded reading their own poems, you know.

i love youre brilliant main blog and i love this blog too you fucking brilliant person you really don't think your all that just bc you can write words but your book will succeed and your going to live a success

Bonté divine, you even imitated the mistakes. This is very sweet of you, anon. Here, take my heart!

As promised and as per your votes on my last poll, here's an excerpt from my untitled novel.

(@words-after-midnight here it is, dear).

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about this post that said that every writer writes from a specific emotion. It used example such as Mary Oliver's work being imbued with relief, while Richard Siken's defining emotion was panic. I've thought about it and it very quickly became clear that mine is this: a deep, unnameable melancholy. The kind that is always there, — you don't know exactly where it comes from, but you've had it since childhood, it stayed with you throughout your teenage years, and it'll follow you to your grave like your most faithful friend. A kind of melancholy you've learnt to love, and even seek in the rare moments during which its absence made you uneasy, for you've become addicted to the taste of your own blood almost. It became second nature, familiar, perhaps essential even. You're not even sure you exist outside of it. And perhaps you don't want to anyway.