Juliet at Eclogues has come out as a fan of creeping, eldritch horror, posting some great Weird Tales links, including a collection of Clark Ashton Smith short stories. Smith is really a lesser writer in the Lovecraft vein, but one of the great things about the Internet is that it only takes one fan of cult books (link via Baraita) to help spread the word. Unsurprisingly, Lovecraft’s friends and correspondents are well-rerpesented on the web: Fritz Leiber (best known for the Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser stories, Leiber also wrote the subtle tale of architectural horror, Our Lady of Darkness); Robert W. Chambers, author of "The King in Yellow"; Conan creator Robert E. Howard, who discussed ice cream flavors and turkey dinners with Lovecraft; Arkham House founder and posthumous Lovecraft editor August Derleth; and, of course, the man himself. I’ve always found Lovecraft’s life (his feelings of inadequacy after dropping out of school and failure to attend Brown University; his xenophobia and racism; his failed marriage and the role of his aunts in its failure; his slow descent into poverty; and his convivial spirit in the face of these adversities and a literary career he assumed would be entirely forgotten) and what I’ve read of his correspondence more interesting than Lovecraft’s fiction, but going to school in Providence gave me more of an appreciation for his work. I cannot think of a city that would be more appropriate for tales of decay and the haunting past. Lovecraft died of cancer in 1937, having maintained a clinical journal of his symptoms that he thought might benefit research. He was buried in an unmarked grave; forty years later, fans took up a collection to buy him a headstone. It reads "I AM PROVIDENCE", and on nights when fog wrapped College Hill, I could believe it.