Post-Mortem might be a funny word to use in the context of a novel about immortal vampires, but regardless, as I write this, a little over a week has passed since the release of my first novel, Sunset Vallachia -The 1st Night-. It hardly feels that way though―to be honest, the high of actually completing a project I've been working on for so long is still going strong, so I've basically just been laying about not really doing anything but being satisfied with myself nonetheless.

Not to worry, I'm sure the dissatisfaction with my meager existence will kick back in soon, and I've already gotten things ready for Genmajou's next release, as well as for Sunset Vallachia's eventual sequel. But until those things materialize, I just wanted to sit down and write down something to immortalize my immediate feelings on the back of this release. I've got nothing planned out and no will to revise whatever comes out here, so depending on my performance in this moment, future generations might look back upon this piece as either the beginning of a new tradition or one lonely Tuesday night's mistake.

To be honest, I've always felt like kind of a philosophical fraud. I have strong feelings and opinions about big concepts and engage in heated discussions about them, but it's never anything I've got any real experience, or even anything tangible enough for anyone to be able to have any experience with. I might wax philosophical about my views on the meaning of existence or lack thereof, but I've never even sat through a job interview, I couldn't tell you the first thing about how paying taxes works, and I'll be damned if I can work out how to properly use a power drill. Whenever I'm confronted with my lack of real world experience I'll think about what an arrogant bag of dicks I am, thinking myself worthy of dabbling in ontology, as if the nature of reality is somehow easier to comprehend than the workings of a washing machine.

And when it comes to lack of experience, nothing stands out more than how totally removed I am from death. I'm a death virgin. I sit around all day and read stories about people dying in extreme circumstances, but I've never ever experienced what the death of a human being close to me feels like. All of my immediate family members are alive, and most of the ones that aren't either died long before I was born or were simply not close enough to me for it to really affect me. Acquaintances I've known have passed away, sure, but they were distant enough that never talking to them again wasn't all that unusual a prospect. In other words, it never felt like they really died, just that they went somewhere far away and I can't be bothered to text them and see how they're doing. Whenever I think about it like that, I wonder if I'm a lot more cold and uncaring a person than I'd like to believe I am.

I'm led to believe grief is the feeling of missing something that you know should be there, and yet no longer is and never again will be. That description seems right to me. In that sense, I might have felt it before, in brief, mild spurts. I'd grieve over the absence of a dead pet that I never really liked anyway. I'd grieve over a friendship that was once as tight-knit as could be, and yet has naturally drifted apart into indifference. But those are easy feelings, feelings anyone can have. It'd be an insult to compare it to real grief, actual loss, something that I'm far too ignorant to properly grasp.

Part of me is sure that one day, when death catches up to me, I'll really realize what a childish fool I used to be, and how petty and minuscule these feelings I used to have were. Another part of me is convinced that no matter what I go through, I'll still feel like it doesn't match up to whatever picture of grief has formed in my mind. That seems equally in-character for me.

And so I've taken all of this confusing, self-deprecating and yet in equal measure self-serving rhetoric, wrapped it in light novel-esque sensibilities and a dubiously-plotted locked room mystery and turned it into a novel. My goal was to be as childishly petulant as I could be, to look straight ahead at these anxieties I've got zero handle on and to declare myself above them, to boldy proclaim ontology is indeed far easier to comprehend than the workings of a washing machine―well, anyway, that's all the embarrasing reasoning that led to this book existing, but it's nothing you need to worry about. I'll be happy if you just treat it as a bit of idle entertainment, and if some part of it sticks with you and becomes a part of you, I'll be far more grateful than you can imagine.

Anyhow, let's leave the sappy rambling at that, shall we? More to the point, as previously established, if it wasn't clear enough from the numeral in the title, while Sunset Vallachia can be enjoyed perfectly well as a standalone, it is the first part in what will be a 4-book series. I mentioned it in the afterword, but what first came to me as an idea for a vampire mystery novel wasn't this tale of a small village and a victim-turned-vampire, but instead something totally different. That something has since become the plot of Sunset Vallachia -The 2nd Night-. I'll keep my cards close to my chest for now, but I'll just say this: if this first volume has been what one might call "The Human Side", then the second installment is undoubtedly "The Vampire Side."

Funny how these things evolve. When I first began writing volume 1, I hadn't had the faintest clue where my plans would go. And in the time it took to actually write out one book, I somehow planned out an entire series. When you think about it that way, who knows how things might evolve as I begin writing the second volume. At this point I feel satisfied enough with the structure I've come up with that I don't think I'd want to change it, but hey, who knows where it all might lead. If you can believe it, the original concept for this plot was a short story where none of the characters ever even left the shed where the crime occurred. However things develop, I'd like to have faith that the final form each work takes will be the best possible one it could have.

That's all for later though. I'm not hardcore enough to get started on the next book right away, so I'll be cleansing my palette a bit, so to speak, with at least one shorter installment of a planned serialized work (the so-called "secret project" hinted at on the main page), as well as maybe a short story. I'd also like to get to draw some more fan art like I used to, but with how slow I am, who knows if I'll be able to finish anything good.

As promised, this was a rambling mess, and I'm well aware I write these posts more for myself than anyone else, but if there's another human being out there reading this, then thanks for taking the time. See you on some other night.