Forthcoming: Petit Albert and Compendium Rarissimum…

We’ve got a couple forthcoming releases of interest to Papers readers.

First, Ouroboros is releasing a fine edition of the Petit Albert, described as follows:

The ‘Little Albert’ is a grimoire and book of secrets first published in France in 1700s. The text ranks as one of the most infamous books in the grimoire corpus, though much of its infamy stems from the 18th century hucksters who populated Rural Europe with copies of their merchandise. Although the tome is criticized by the likes of Arthur Edward Waite and Eliphas Levi before him, they nonetheless mention it many times throughout their several books. As a book of ritual magic it relies heavily on other sources, namely Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus. Yet in addition to the grimoire material consisting of talismanic images, cabalistic magic and ritual perfumes, the book also features many wortcunning remedies, and alchemical recipes.

We saw a release of a translation of this book, entitled The Spellbook of Marie Laveau, a few years ago. Ouroboros will do an excellent job of bindng it, and I intend to compare the two translations when they come out. It does remind us that the book came to the New World and became part of the American tradition of magic, even if mainly confined to French-speaking areas.

Second, Fulgur will be dipping into grimoire publishing with the Compendium rarissimum totius artis magicae… kept at the Wellcome Institute.  The work, edited by Hereward Tilton and Merlin Cox, is a visually stunning manuscript in German and Latin, which will be translated into English.   I encourage readers to check the link above to see it in all its glory; it should be an amazing publication.


Published in: on February 15, 2017 at 3:15 pm  Comments (2)  

Review: A Compendium of Unnatural Black Magic

We’ve already discussed the Mexican publisher Enodia Press‘s previous work, their translation of the most famous Faustian grimoire, Magia naturalis et innaturalis (review). Their latest effort, A Compendium of Unnatural Black Magic – a wonderful title – was funded successfully by an Indiegogo campaign, and is now available for purchase.

The Compendium is a lovely little book, with a pretty green cover and embossed seal on the cover. At occasional points, the typesetting is not quite up to snuff.  Nonetheless, this is a huge step forward for Enodia, and it’s clear that they’re learning and adapting to raise the quality of their offerings.

Within, we have seven short, related magical texts translated from different German and Latin language sources.  Each is a brief set of instructions for summoning up spirits, including admonitions to the magician, prayers and invocations – mostly in voces magicae – and seals for the spirits.  These texts are attributed to a number of different figures – Johannes Kornreuther, Joseph Herpentil, Michael Scot, and Gertrude of Nivelles.  The original texts are included in an appendix after the translations, as is a brief comparison of some of the pseudo-Arabic text in the texts attributed to Scot. A brief set of endnotes follows.  The book bears no index, which  makes any efforts to compare elements between the texts more difficult.

I did very much like the introduction, although I think that some additional material from Stephan Bachter’s dissertation and his other works. Based on what I’ve read, it seems that the profusion of these similar manuscripts might have occurred due to a intensive market, particularly in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, aimed at providing grimoires for a market of collectors and users. It’s certainly a possibility that I’d like to see explored more.

In short, this is an excellent small collection of short magical texts in a genre – that of Faustian literature – which remains largely untranslated.  I’d suggest that grimoire collectors who can afford such a work pick it up soon, especially if they’re in the US and want to avoid any surprising international tariffs.


Published in: on February 6, 2017 at 1:46 pm  Leave a Comment  

Review: Jake Stratton-Kent’s Pandemonium

Many readers will be familiar with the list of seventy-two spirits that constitutes the Goetia section of the Lesser Key of Solomon.  Some may know of other such lists – published in Johann Weyer’s De praestigiis daemonum, Reginald Scot’s Discoverie of Witchcraft, the Grimorium Verum, and even in The Book of Oberon itself.  Until now, however, no comprehensive examination of these spirits and how they might relate to each other.  Jake Stratton-Kent’s new book from Hadean Press, Pandemonium: A Discordant Concordance of Diverse Spirit Catalogues, is the first attempt to do so.

The book begins with a new English translation of “Le Livre des Esperitz,” a French treatise held at Cambridge’s Trinity College O.8.29, by Mallorie Vaudoise.  The inclusion of this document, which describes forty-six spirits in a manner similar to the Goetia, makes the book an important resource for anyone interested in these spirit hierarchies.

Jake then moves to an examination of various parts of the spirit hierarchy, first dealing with the trinity of spirits that oversee the rest, the spirits of the seven days of the week, the kings of the four directions, and the multitude of other spirits that follow them.  At the minimum, each of these spirits receives a chart showing their appearances in a number of different sources, their Goetic seal (if any), their illustration in de Plancy’s Dictionnaire infernal (if any), their description in Scot’s Discoverie of Witchcraft, and notes regarding their appearance.  Many of these spirits merit a greater amount of treatment, however, and the author does not disappoint.

Before I discuss my concerns, which are relatively minor, I should extend considerable kudos to Jake for all of this work.  This is the sort of in-depth examination that desperately needed to be done, in order to start charting out more of the history of magic, and that requires considerable patience and access to texts to carry out.  He makes a number of discoveries and raises hypotheses that can be checked as new texts are discovered and compared to this work.  So this is a major step forward when it comes to charting the spirit world of late medieval and early Renaissance magic.

It does bear noting, however, that this book is aimed at practitioners and not scholars, which leads to some choices that favor one group over another. I can’t necessarily fault the book for doing so, but it does bear mentioning.

For instance, the spirit listings, after the initial trinity of rulers, weekly spirits, and four kings, follow the order in Weyer’s Pseudomonarchia daemonum. Nonetheless, the charts list the spirits based upon their appearance in Weyer’s work, but the text quoted in the entries is from Reginald Scot’s Discoverie of Witchcraft.  Then we often have the seal from the Goetia.

From a practitioner’s point of view, it makes sense to put everything together in this way, so all the information about a spirit is in one place.  From a scholarly perspective, it conflates these sources in ways that are not always helpful.  For example, Scot’s text is quite similar to Weyer’s, but there are certainly differences between the two.  (Given how conscientious Jake is, I’m guessing that swapping Scot for Weyer’s work was only done in extremis.)  Further, the inclusion of Goetic seals may give the impression that these are common elements of such spirit lists, when we have examples both with the seals and many without.  If you want to understand what’s in the original manuscripts, this approach elides the differences between them and – ironically – pushes the Goetia into a prominence that the book as a whole seeks to take away from it.

It should also be noted that the spirit lists are not necessarily the only material in ritual magic texts that discusses the names and offices of spirits.  Some are full-fledged rites to summon particular ones, while others are brief notes, sometimes only of names, but at other times giving additional information about purposes or planetary or elemental attributes.  Indeed, a short list of the queen of fairies and the seven fairy sisters occupies a point in The Book of Oberon between two items discussed in the book.  This does not diminish the importance of Jake’s work, but noting it is important in terms of understanding these books in their entirety.

Readers should note that Jake does assume a certain amount of familiarity with a good number of ritual magic texts, most of which have been previously printed.  If you’ve regularly purchased the books I recommend here, for instance, you’ll be well on your way.  I wonder if a few pages devoted to discussing the history and significance of the main texts with which he deals might have made for a book that was accessible to more people.  For example, I had to find the collection and manuscript number for the translated work myself.  Then again, this is not a mass market book by any means, nor should it be expected to be one.

Still, the specialized nature of this work narrows the market of potential buyers.  I can see it of particular interest to those who want to see how various published grimoires fit together in terms of their shared spiritual universe, or practitioners who want to understand the context of their operations.  Both groups should be quite happy with what Pandemonium offers.



Published in: on January 27, 2017 at 2:49 pm  Comments (2)  

Review: The Infernal Dictionary

Having looked at the False Hierarchy of Demons from Abracax House, we turn to their publication of the Infernal Dictionary (link via Amazon).  I believe this is now out of print, but I managed to get a copy of it at Treadwell’s before leaving England.  I think it’s fair to note that I did pay a good price for it – though well below that listed on Amazon – and hauled it back in my suitcase for England, which might affect my review.

The Dictionnaire Infernal by Collin de Plancy, with different editions released from 1818 to 1863, is perhaps one of the most famous reference works of the occult.  I discussed it in my Spirits in the Library posts, and I’ve wanted to see a full – not partial – translation from the French for some time now.  Thus, I was happy to see the Abracax edition, especially since I missed the initial print run.

The publication is an attractive two-volume work, slipcased and bound in imitation leather.  We have not only translations of de Plancy’s original articles, but also reproductions of the original woodcuts, footnotes – both those of de Plancy and the editors – the texts of the various introductions to the book over its history, the approval of the bishop of Paris, a biography of de Plancy, an index, and other items.  Many of the demons are illustrated in full color by modern artists.  This does make for a magnificent book.

Nonetheless, this comes with a few caveats.  We are not given the French text, although this is readily available online.  I have a greater concern:  the editors’ decision to update and correct the text along with the rest of the process.

I can understand the impulse that compelled them to make the decision, Nonetheless – and I speak here as an author of an encyclopedia – simply updating the entries in a reference book, without also considering the shape of the work, what entries should be added and deleted, etc., is not really a sufficient way to update a work.  Further, the places where changes have been made do not seem to have been noted consistently.

To me, there are two options with a work such as this.  One of these is to build upon the previous one, revising the whole, adding and subtracting and rethinking until it becomes a fully modernized work.  The other is to preserve the original as closely as possible, with some modernizations in terms of spelling and arrangements, to bring a work that provides us with insights into a particular time and place to today’s readers.  To be clear, this would be my preference.

For me, the Infernal Dictionary ends up being a book that fulfills neither of these potential purposes.  I’m reluctant to say so, because the editors did a great deal of work to make the book the way it was.  I’m also aware of how sometimes you make an editorial  decision with a book that is nigh-on irrevocable, simply because it’s so much work to go back and change, and I wonder if that was ever the case here.

Nonetheless, this book has many admirable qualities that should not be overlooked.  Is it worth $180?  Those interested in an artisanal book to grace their shelves will likely find it so.  If you can read French, there are many cheap untranslated copies available in print or online that you can consult.  As a reference work, I wish it could have been less expensive – although you could say the same for many of the expensive reference works for sale by much larger publishers.  What works for your collection?

Published in: on August 31, 2016 at 3:17 pm  Leave a Comment  

Review: The False Hierarchy of Demons

Today’s offering is a relatively new offering from Abracax House – a translation of Johann Weyer’s Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, a list of demons taken from his work De praestigiis daemonum.  So, how does The False Hierarchy of Demons measure up?

For those who aren’t familiar with this, Weyer (1515-88) was a former pupil of Agrippa who set out to write against beliefs in the witch-hunts and false magicians.  This particular work is a compilation of spirits taken from a manuscript that he read.  His goal in publishing it was to reveal the falsity and fraud of the magicians of the time.  The list has a great deal of similarities to others in manuscript form, especially that which was eventually published as the magical manual the Goetia.

The book itself is quite beautiful, slipcased and bound in red and black, with plentiful color illustrations included.  Each entry for a spirit consists of the name of the entry, the Pseudomonarchia‘s text in the original Latin and English translation, any relevant illustration from the Dictionnaire infernale, and the seals from the Goetia (and possibly other works, although I haven’t looked at all of them).  All of this is quite attractive in presentation.

In my other reviews, I often say that I don’t feel confident enough in my grasp of other languages to critique a translation.  My Latin could always be better, but having taken a brief look at some entries, I can make specific comments on some usages.

The spirit Marbas answers questions “plene,” which is translated as “truly” when “fully” would be better.  Buer provides “optimos” familiars, translated as “good” instead of “the best.”  The term “praeses” is translated in one entry as “president” and another as “master.”  The entry for Gusion says he appears “in forma zenophali,” which the translator follows other readings in rendering “cynocephali.”  Nonetheless, she states that the literal translation is “wild man” or “baboon with a dog-face,” when it should actually be “dog-headed [one].”

I won’t have time to check through the book comprehensively.  Many readers won’t care about this sort of problem, but I’d suggest that any translated herein be double-checked before being quoted or used.

The English is also problematic at some points.  For example, the English sentences are sometimes missing a subject, when the Latin clearly contains one.  Sometimes articles are missing in the sentences as well.  None of these obscures the meaning, I should hasten to add.

Also, it should be noted that the spirit seals are not present in the Pseudomonarchia, which might not be entirely clear from the introdcution.

If you’re looking for an impressive looking book for your bookshelf, this work certainly fits the bill.  The text itself is not bad, but it might have benefited from the same meticulous attention that was put into the rest of the project.


Published in: on August 11, 2016 at 1:51 pm  Comments (2)  

Review: Doctor Johannes Faust’s Magia Naturalis et Innaturalis

You might recall an article from a month ago in which I discussed the appearance of the first translation of the classic Faust-attributed grimoire  Magia naturalis et innaturalis, translated by Nicolás Álvarez Ortiz and published by Enodia Press.  I had some trepidation about ordering from them – apparently the Mexican post office is not as diligent about updating its tracking notices as it could be – but I now have both a print and electronic copy of the book.  So, what do we have?

What we have here is an English translation of the German book, along with a brief introduction, some notes, and numerous full-color illustrations collected at the end.

For those who aren’t familiar with the book, it serves primarily as a collection of incantations and pacts for spirits of various orders and elements to fulfill the will of the magician.  They range from grand princes of hell such as Marbuel and Aciel, to sets of seven spirits corresponding to all manner of social statuses, from counts to peasants to fools, to pygmies. A large number of full color illustrations portray these beings, along with the seals necessary to compel them.  These are conducted for various purposes, ranging from fast travel via flying coat to bringing birds and flowers to the magician, but the foremost would seem to be the discovery of buried treasure.  There’s a great deal in here that should be of interest to many readers of ritual magic.

Álvarez’s translation seems well done to me, being coherent and legible.  Even though I quibble at some points with his word choices, I’ve been able to see where he was coming from.  Perhaps those more conversant with German will have different views, however.

In terms of a scholarly apparatus,  Álvarez does provide some notes to define particular concepts, Biblical passages, and notable figures, as well as transcriptions of the wording in the color plates.  We do not have the German text, although that is readily available online.  Key elements missing are any table of contents, beyond the most rudimentary, or an index.  This makes finding any particular section of the book an unnecessary exercise in paging through over 150 pages.

The introduction is notable, although it does sometimes combine very old sources and up-to-date ones in ways that make it unclear why some topics merited more work than others.  (One innocent mistake seems to be the usage of a nineteenth-century German scholar to discuss Jewish culture, when there are more recent studies of the origin of the demonic pact.)

I should also make some notes about the presentation.  The layout is cramped, with little space between lines and sections.  The font in my copy was considerably faded in some places, not enough to be illegible, but certainly enough to make for difficult reading.

If you’re a grimoire completist, I’d say this is definitely for you.  It’s in a limited edition of 100 copies, if that helps you make a choice about whether you want to deal with the Mexican post office.  Frankly, what I’d really like to see is the next edition of this book, which – I hope – will include a more detailed table of contents, index, and reformatted layout.  The book as it stands is both fine and important, but I think those changes would make it into a top priority for many interested in ritual magic.


Published in: on July 27, 2016 at 2:05 pm  Comments (2)  

Book of Magic from Frances G. Irwin

A while ago, Caduceus Books advertised a new work with the title Book of Magic from the library of the magician and soldier Major Francis G. Irwin.  I ordered the book when the subscriptions were open, and as they’re now closed, it’s unlikely that anyone will be able to find a copy of it save on the second-hand market.  That’s a shame, because it is quite an interesting book that documents some of the aspects of 19th century magic in the time between Francis Barrett and MacGregor Mathers.

(Full disclosure: I’ve published one book through Caduceus, and we’re also working on some other projects.)

The book seems to have been in the library of Henry Irwin, the son of the Major, a promising student who died of a drug overdose in 1879.  His father added the book to his library and included a bookplate that commemorated his son’s passing.  It later passed through the library of Frederick L. Gardner.  The whereabouts of the manuscript are unknown, largely because I haven’t asked Ben about them.

There are some beautiful pictures of the book at the title link above, so all I can say is that it definitely lives up to them.  What I’d like to talk about is the significance of the work, for those who might not have access to it.

The Book of Magic is a document describing the rites and lore relating to the group called the “Fratres Lucis” or the (appropriate for the time) “Order of the Swastika.”  The group, which included such individuals as the Irwins, Kenneth Mackenzie, and Frederick Hockley as members, is discussed in depth in Ellic Howe’s classic article “Fringe Freemasonry in England 1870-85“.  It does appear that there are other documents relating to the FL at Freemason’s Hall, but none of them correspond to the details of this one.

And what are those details?  This does not seem to be a systematic manual for the rituals, instead interspersing admonitions to the aspiring magician, notes on the theory of magic, and techniques of talismanic magic, mirror scrying, and mesmerism.  It includes references to the occultism from the period – a quick reference to the discovery of Uranus, the techniques of Mesmer becoming part of the magical repertoire, and Éliphas Lévi’s interpretation of the one-point-up versus two-point-up pentagram.  Some of the material, such as the forms of the spirits of the sun, is derived from the Fourth Book of Agrippa.  We also have references to a supposed late eighteenth-century French order, supposedly including Pasqually, St Germain, and Caglistro, who seemed intend in calling up the spirit of Templar head Jacques de Molay.  (It should be noted that the “ghost” explanation given for the charges of spitting on the cross and other blasphemies here is different from the one we now know to have occurred.)

If anyone has any other questions about the book, feel free to put them in the comments.

Published in: on April 12, 2016 at 12:57 pm  Comments (2)  

Review -Ars Notoria Sive Flores Aurei

Last year, we discussed the new edition of the Teitan Press edition of the Ars Notoria, an English translation of the classic work of medieval ritual magic.  One of the aspects of these, as well as many other published editions, is the lack of the original illustrations.  Given that meditation on these symbols were a key part of the Ars Notoria process to master knowledge, this omits an important aspect of all these manuscripts.

If you’re interested in seeing a book that displays such images, you might be interested in Palatino Press’ edition of the Ars Notoria.  This is a full-color facsimile of a short thirteen-century manuscript kept at the Beinecke Library at Yale, Mellon MS. 1.  It bears noting that all of these scans are available on the Beinecke’s website, in case you simply want to view the images.

It also bears mentioning that the book contains no translation of the Latin text, or more than half a page of notes on the text.  Nonetheless, the Palatino Press edition is available for only ten dollars, which makes the book quite affordable.  It’s hardly an indispensable addition to a grimoire collection, but I was satisfied with the purchase even given all of the above.

Published in: on March 28, 2016 at 1:59 pm  Comments (2)  

Review – Powwowing in Pennsylvania

I want110ed to share with you a small gem of a publication that I picked up at a recent event at the Schwenkfelder Library and Heritage Center.  They were holding a day conference dealing with powwowing and other forms of folk healing, featuring scholarly presentations, a lunch (do not get between Pennsylvania Germans and their chicken pot pie!), and this booklet.  The mini-conference was associated with an exhibition of written works and artifacts associated with powwow.  For $20 plus gas, it was a bargain. I somehow convinced three of my friends to go down with me.

Even if you weren’t able to make it, the conference booklet, Powwowing in Pennsylvania:  Healing, Cosmology, & Tradition in the Dutch Country, is a real treat.  Written by Patrick Donmoyer, the editor of Hohman’s The Friend in Need (review) and author of Hex Signs (review), the book discusses the evidence of powwowing – whether oral, written, or in artefact form – and the ideology that underlies it.  The text is both readable and has an extensive number of footnotes, so it will be a good guide to the topic written by an expert steeped in the topic.

What really catches one’s attention, though, are the large number of photographs in the book.  The cover, which you’ll see to the left, is one of the few pieces of photographic evidence of a historic powwowing ritual being performed.  I’ve attached more examples below of the many illustrations in the book, including printed and handwritten manuscripts, hand-composed charms, and material culture related to powwowing.  Most of it comes from regional or private collections, so you’ll be seeing items that you probably won’t be seeing unless you make a trek to rural Pennsylvania.

Finally, there’s the matter of price.  It’s a 40-page book with great information and amazing illustrations that you can only get by calling the Pennsylvania German Cultural Heritage Center and paying them $10, plus $3 shipping and handling (plus the rates for either of the Donmoyer books I mention above, which are definitely also worth the price).   For a little extra effort, you’ll get a book that is both informative and sure to be a collector’s item.  If you’re interested in powwowing or folk magic, it’s definitely worth it.



Powwowing 3

Powwowing 4

Published in: on March 7, 2016 at 10:00 pm  Comments (1)  

Reading the Comments

I do apologize for not answering comments more frequently.  Part of it is a function of having a smartphone; I see them come in, but by the time I sit down at a desktop, I’ve forgotten about them.  Let me see if I can make it up.

I’ll start with someone I feel less guilty about answering late.  Derek Nylander asks:

Hello, I was just wondering if anyone knew any information about Dr.Johnson or knew if there was some way to contact his family. The reason for this is that I am looking into the art of year walking and need some verification on a few questions of my own, thanks in advance.

For those who don’t know, the year walk, or Årsgång, is a Swedish ritual in which a person walks outside at midnight on New Year’s Eve and walks to the local churchyard as a method of divination or gaining power.  It was the focus for a popular indie mobile game a few years ago.  Given that this question was asked on January 6, I haven’t messed up too much by waiting to answer.

If Johnson’s family is anything like mine, they will either know nothing or insist you read them dinosaur encyclopedias.  A better way to work with this might be to seek out people from Sweden who might be able to access the sources in their language.  Also, Gårdbäck’s Trolldom contains a couple of pages on the topic that might be of use to you.

Danger Nick backwards asks:

Peterson has a Sworn Book on his web site is this going to be a new translation from the critical edition, or merely a re-edited version of his web version?

Oh, come on.  It’s Joe Peterson!  If you need more convincing than that, the Ibis Press site promises that this is “the complete Latin text, carefully checked against known manuscripts, and related texts in Latin, German, and English.”  And when it says the “complete Latin text,” I’m almost certain that it means “in translation.”  Joe’s website text is from the British manuscripts, and he’s said that the Latin contains more information.

Ian Dall brings up this point:

Recall Gustav Henningsens account of how Alonso de Salazar Frías, inquisitor of the Basque witch trials, tried out 22 alleged witch ointments, but to discover that they contained a variety of ingredients, none of them psychoactive.. The concept may have more to do with the magical salves of Apuleius Golden ass, or Martianus Capellas Marriage of Philology & Mercury, than anything recognizably medicinal.Of course, it has been a while since I read up on this: for all I know, these points have been refuted, or simply not valid for this discussion

I will simply note that Alonso de Salazar Frías is not mentioned in Hatsis’ book on witch ointments.  I’d be interested in hearing a response.

Finally, Shara says:

I had been enjoying your book reviews and I wanted to ask you if you had read Liana Saif’s new book The Arabic Influences on Early Modern Occult Philosophy? It’s part of Palgrave’s Historical Studies in Witchcraft and Magic series and some of their books I find are a hit or miss with me. And with the price tag of $100 plus for the hardcover, I was hoping you would do a review of it so I would have a better idea if it’s worthy buying or if I am better off waiting for whenever they do a paperback release of it. As an aside, I heard that Liana Saif is working on translating the Arabic Ghayat al Hakim into English. If you could find a confirmation of this or more information about this, I would appreciate that.

Sorry, but I’m not intending to read Saif’s The Arabic Influences on Early Modern Occult Philosophy any time soon.  Looking at the table of contents, most of it is discussions of the opinions of Bacon, Aquinas, Ficino, etc., and I don’t really want to read more about what they thought about magic than I already have.  I also prefer the grubbier side of ritual magic rather than the more astrologically-oriented material.  I’d much rather read Werewolf Histories, but I don’t think that’s happening any time soon.

I will say that I do own five books from the Palgrave Historical Studies in Witchcraft and Magic series, and I’ve not regretted adding them to my library (some were gifts, which made it easier):

Dillinger’s Magical Treasure Hunting in Europe and North America (review)
Roper’s Charms, Charmers, and CharmingBever’s The Realities of Witchcraft and Popular Magic in Early Modern Europe
Butler’s Victorian Occultism and the Making of Modern Magic
Hutton’s Physical Evidence for Ritual Acts, Sorcery and Witchcraft in Christian Britain (a wonderful book that I’m reading right now)

The only one I’ve been somewhat disappointed in was Victorian Occultism, as it dealt mainly with magical lodges and not with the other Victorian magical material in which I’m more interested.  I can say that this line is of higher quality than some of the offerings from other academic publishers that put “magic” in the titles and blurbs of overpriced books that are mainly about astrology, witch trials, literature, spiritualism, etc.

Given that most of these have been out for a few years and only Bever seems to be in paperback, I’m not optimistic about Saif’s title appearing there. I’d suggest ordering it through your local library’s interlibrary loan service and checking it out before purchasing.

As for the Picatrix – Clifford Low pointed out a while ago that Saif was listed as doing so on the Palgrave site, and I was able to confirm that.  The notice is now gone, so I’m not sure what the status of that project might be. These days, I generally don’t put too much hope into any proposition until the publisher announces pre-orders.

That’s about all for now.  Keep the comments coming!  That is, unless you want me to send the Sixth and Seventh Books of Moses to Africa.  You’re not getting it.

Published in: on March 2, 2016 at 9:57 pm  Comments (7)