Call me Herm. Yeah, I died in 1891, but, thanks to my new wireless card, am able to blog now.

My Photo

I am an American author, best-known for my novels of the sea and my masterpiece MOBY-DICK (1851), a whaling adventure dedicated to Nathaniel Hawthorne. "I have written a wicked book and feel as spotless as the lamb," I wrote to Hawthorne. The work was only recognized as a masterpiece 30 years after my death. TYPEE (1846), a fictionalized travel narrative, was my most popular book during my lifetime. As noted above, I currently am deceased. Recently, however, we got wireless.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

The Sequel to Moby-Dick

I have been working on the new book for some time. I'd wanted to pick up the narrative with Ishmael's return to port. However the agency and publishing house both felt (and backed it up with market research) that setting the story in present times would better resonate with modern book-buyers.

Accordingly the plot will go something like this: The hero is Ahab's great-grandson, Alan, a worker on a cruise ship. He pursues a vendetta, not against the whale, but rather against a giant Japanese fishing conglomerate illegally hunting whales.

"Son of Moby-Dick" is the title that has tested best thus far.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Call Me Herm.

Yeah, I died in 1891. So how am I writing? We just got wireless up here.

In case you're wondering, death has been decent for me. You get much more reading done, not having to eat, sleep, change the cat litter, etc.

One of the interesting things here is there are whales that you can kill. Of course, being immortal, they come back to life again. So say you give one a fine, lethal harpooning. He springs right back and you get to go at it all over again. Sort of like having a terrific racquetball partner.

Well, that's all for now. Harp lesson.

No, just kidding. You don't see nearly as many of those up here as you might think. God forbid we had to tolerate that racket for eternity.