Horror writer H.P. Lovecraft occupies a strange place in the American literary canon. Published mostly in pulp magazines during his own lifetime, the author died in 1937, leaving behind enough stories to fill three or four volumes, enough letters to fill twenty-five, and a small but devoted circle of admirers who took upon themselves the task of keeping his memory alive. Now, over seventy years later, both The American Library and Penguin Books publish his work with other classics, and Lovecraft outsells most of the titles they print alongside him. His ideas have spawned hordes of imitators and dozens of innovators who have built on his work. Among those who pay attention to such things, he’s one of America’s great horror writers, second maybe only to Poe himself.