Christopher Michael's Blog - Posts Tagged "wwii-fiction"
The Journey to Tomb of the Black Pharaoh: My First Published Dive into the Mythos
I’m thrilled to share that my first novel, Tomb of the Black Pharaoh, has officially been published! For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to the weird, the unknown, and the cosmic terrors that haunt the edges of human understanding. Now, after years of both writing and immersing myself in the eerie depths of Lovecraftian horror, I’ve had the chance to contribute my own story to the Cthulhu Mythos.
Danforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII—with Tomb of the Black Pharaoh as its first book—is my attempt to blend the unnerving, vast horrors of Lovecraft’s universe with the grim reality of World War II. The novel follows Robert B. Danforth, whom some of you might recognize from At the Mountains of Madness. While Lovecraft only hinted at the madness Danforth experienced, this story picks up years later, with him still grappling with the lingering scars of what he saw in the frozen wastes of Antarctica. But this time, instead of cold isolation, he’s thrown into the heat of the North African desert, where even darker forces lurk beneath the sands.
Writing this novel has been a deeply personal journey, not just as an author, but as a long-time admirer of the Cthulhu Mythos and as a proud member of the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society (HPLHS). The HPLHS has always been a huge inspiration to me. As a member, I’ve enjoyed connecting with others who share the same love for the weird and wonderful world Lovecraft created. The community and the creative works the society has produced have always made me feel part of something larger—a collective that reveres the strange, the forgotten, and the fearsome.
Lovecraftian horror, in my eyes, is about more than monsters with too many tentacles (though we do love those, don’t we?). It’s about the existential dread of realizing how small we truly are in the grand cosmic scheme, that the universe doesn’t care about us, and that knowledge—especially the forbidden kind—can be more dangerous than comforting. That core theme of cosmic insignificance is what I wanted to explore in Tomb of the Black Pharaoh. Danforth, already a man haunted by the unimaginable, faces a new threat where the lines between history, myth, and nightmare blur. As he gets deeper into his mission, it becomes less about the war outside and more about the ancient and indifferent forces that stir below the surface.
Writing in the Cthulhu Mythos isn’t just about following in Lovecraft’s footsteps, though. It’s about taking those ideas and expanding on them, making them your own while still paying homage to the world he built. That’s been my goal with Tomb of the Black Pharaoh—to weave together the historical context of WWII with the timeless terror of Lovecraft’s universe. It’s about the smallness of humanity in the face of forces far older and more powerful than we can comprehend, but it’s also about how people—flawed, fragile, and terrified—respond when faced with that truth.
As much as I love the tentacled horrors and the strange geometry of Lovecraft’s world, what draws me in most is the atmosphere. It’s that sense of creeping dread, the idea that something is always watching, just out of sight, and if you look too long, you’ll see too much. I tried to capture that feeling in Tomb of the Black Pharaoh—the slow unraveling of reality, the weight of secrets too terrible to be known, and the haunting presence of something vast and uncaring beyond the stars.
To any fellow Mythos fans or writers out there, I’ll say this: Lovecraft gave us an incredible framework to build on, but what makes it so enduring is that we can all contribute to it, adding our own strange and twisted tales to the tapestry. Writing Tomb of the Black Pharaoh has been an absolute labor of love, and I hope it resonates with those of you who, like me, are captivated by the dark, the weird, and the unknowable.
I want to extend my deepest gratitude to the HPLHS and its members for creating such a wonderful community where creativity and cosmic horror go hand in hand. It’s been a true honor to be part of it, and I hope this book reflects that sense of belonging to something much larger—both in the society and in the Mythos itself.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll join me on this journey into the shadowy corners of WWII, where both mortal and cosmic horrors await.
Stay strange,
ChrisDanforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII: Book 1 - Tomb of the Black PharaohDanforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII: Book 1 - Tomb of the Black PharaohDanforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII: Book 1 - Tomb of the Black Pharaoh
Danforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII—with Tomb of the Black Pharaoh as its first book—is my attempt to blend the unnerving, vast horrors of Lovecraft’s universe with the grim reality of World War II. The novel follows Robert B. Danforth, whom some of you might recognize from At the Mountains of Madness. While Lovecraft only hinted at the madness Danforth experienced, this story picks up years later, with him still grappling with the lingering scars of what he saw in the frozen wastes of Antarctica. But this time, instead of cold isolation, he’s thrown into the heat of the North African desert, where even darker forces lurk beneath the sands.
Writing this novel has been a deeply personal journey, not just as an author, but as a long-time admirer of the Cthulhu Mythos and as a proud member of the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society (HPLHS). The HPLHS has always been a huge inspiration to me. As a member, I’ve enjoyed connecting with others who share the same love for the weird and wonderful world Lovecraft created. The community and the creative works the society has produced have always made me feel part of something larger—a collective that reveres the strange, the forgotten, and the fearsome.
Lovecraftian horror, in my eyes, is about more than monsters with too many tentacles (though we do love those, don’t we?). It’s about the existential dread of realizing how small we truly are in the grand cosmic scheme, that the universe doesn’t care about us, and that knowledge—especially the forbidden kind—can be more dangerous than comforting. That core theme of cosmic insignificance is what I wanted to explore in Tomb of the Black Pharaoh. Danforth, already a man haunted by the unimaginable, faces a new threat where the lines between history, myth, and nightmare blur. As he gets deeper into his mission, it becomes less about the war outside and more about the ancient and indifferent forces that stir below the surface.
Writing in the Cthulhu Mythos isn’t just about following in Lovecraft’s footsteps, though. It’s about taking those ideas and expanding on them, making them your own while still paying homage to the world he built. That’s been my goal with Tomb of the Black Pharaoh—to weave together the historical context of WWII with the timeless terror of Lovecraft’s universe. It’s about the smallness of humanity in the face of forces far older and more powerful than we can comprehend, but it’s also about how people—flawed, fragile, and terrified—respond when faced with that truth.
As much as I love the tentacled horrors and the strange geometry of Lovecraft’s world, what draws me in most is the atmosphere. It’s that sense of creeping dread, the idea that something is always watching, just out of sight, and if you look too long, you’ll see too much. I tried to capture that feeling in Tomb of the Black Pharaoh—the slow unraveling of reality, the weight of secrets too terrible to be known, and the haunting presence of something vast and uncaring beyond the stars.
To any fellow Mythos fans or writers out there, I’ll say this: Lovecraft gave us an incredible framework to build on, but what makes it so enduring is that we can all contribute to it, adding our own strange and twisted tales to the tapestry. Writing Tomb of the Black Pharaoh has been an absolute labor of love, and I hope it resonates with those of you who, like me, are captivated by the dark, the weird, and the unknowable.
I want to extend my deepest gratitude to the HPLHS and its members for creating such a wonderful community where creativity and cosmic horror go hand in hand. It’s been a true honor to be part of it, and I hope this book reflects that sense of belonging to something much larger—both in the society and in the Mythos itself.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll join me on this journey into the shadowy corners of WWII, where both mortal and cosmic horrors await.
Stay strange,
ChrisDanforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII: Book 1 - Tomb of the Black PharaohDanforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII: Book 1 - Tomb of the Black PharaohDanforth: Eldritch Tales of WWII: Book 1 - Tomb of the Black Pharaoh
