Signs I need to do some cleaning in my cranium...

... include that when, on the occasion that the creative writing prof asks for the definitive vampire novel, I think Anne Rice before I think Bram Stoker.

Also when, in a hurry to cancel out my last dumbass answer in the same hour, I actually say it.

Slinking back under my rock now.

(I wonder if it's karmic comeuppance for filing the serial numbers off my Werewolf: The Apocalypse fanfic those times, or for recasting a couple of vampires as a bickering couple on the verge of divorce)