Essays

Well, here we are again in July, when I was born quite a few years ago, and still the U.S. government has not changed the name of the month to Deanuary or Deantember. It’s not as if I’m asking to have the moon named after me, though that would be nice. Because I am a reasonable person, I understand that it would be necessary to restructure the face of the “man in the moon,” to look like me and that this would be an enormously expensive project. I imagine 80% of the world’s population would nevertheless be eager to vote for such a change, and it would be delightful to listen to the retitled versions of songs like “Moon Over Miami” and “Moon River” with their adjusted lyrics. But, really, I’m too humble for such a grand tribute, regardless of how much you think I deserve it.

Deanuary or Deantember would be a small but satisfying gesture. I think we all can agree that July is not a good name for a month. First of all, the proper pronunciation is not obvious to everyone. A great many people mispronounce it as “Julie,” and by doing so repeatedly embarrass themselves without realizing it. Smaller but nonetheless significant numbers of our fellow citizens mispronounce it “Jull-ee” and Who-lie” and “Jelly.” This leads to a large number misunderstandings that result in missed dinner dates, political arguments, failure to provide timely anniversary gifts, divorces, late rent payments leading to eviction, and savage physical assaults.

A few of you with admirably high standards will be intelligent enough to know the month should be renamed but will want to know why it should be renamed for me. Well, in addition to trying my best to entertain a lot of people over decades, I have never started a war when I could easily have done so, understand all the nuances of when and when not a verb or verbal in the subjunctive mood is required in a sentence, never run with scissors, and will always tell you exactly what you want to hear if only you’ll give me the chance.

So as we prepare the petition to change July to Deanuary, which will be emailed to you, perhaps you will want to give a copy of my latest novel, The Friend of the Family, to everyone you know who was born in July, married in July, had a baby in July, or was arrested for a felony in July and is likely to need books to read in prison. While you’re making that list, it would be most kind of you and not inappropriate to include me on it, as I was born in July.

We are well here in Koontzland. I finished a new novel, The Desperate Mother, on July 5th, as a gift to myself. My toughest and fairest critic, Gerda, read it and loved it. Our dog, Elsa, had a strange experience, and her vet ordered an MRI of her brain, but there was no tumor, and she has shown no further worrisome symptoms. More than a few people have observed that Miss Elsa, being a Koontz, should expect to have strange experiences. Oh, and we had a marvelous fireworks display on the 4th of Deanuary. I hope all is well with you and yours.