Del Toro's Monster

The universe, as Don "Living like there's no tomorrow because there isn't one" Draper has reliably informed us, is indifferent . And yet. There I was at Wal-Mart, following the two-year-old as she wandered in search of toys, and lo and behold: Gill Man, icon of the Collectible department. How did he ever land the gig? When was the last time anybody thought about Gill Man, a minor '50s monster movie mainstay? I mean, besides me, of course? I think about Gill Man for a number of reasons. First, because a dear friend and co-worker introduced me to this excellent (if profane) response to any number of work-related situations: A fellow in the office was kind enough to actually leave us a decent printout of Gill Man on his last day at work; it still hangs in my subterranean workspace: But the real reason I think about Gill Man is because he seems to be such a clear forerunner for Amphibian Man, the love interest in Guillermo del Toro's Academy Award-winni...

Hey, I've got an idea! I think I'll tempt fate by documenting my attempt to complete a work about an artist who fails to complete a work! Better still, I'll base it on the famous real-life case of Guillermo del Toro and his long-desired film adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness . And by, "base it on," I mean I'll give it even less of a fictional dusting than Hemingway did for The Sun Also Rises , using a John Cheever journal entry about celebrities for cover. ("We have a hierarchy of demigods and heroes; they are a vital part of our lives, and they should be a vital part of our literature.") I mean, I've done it before , and everybody loves a sequel! What could go wrong?