Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
I’ve been acknowledged!
. . . in Paul Meloy’s Islington Crocodiles, to be exact.
For the last few years, I’ve written reviews, first for Tangent, and now for The Fix. There have been ups and downs. For a brief stint, I was an object of derision over at an Asimov’s discussion group. One guy took objection to the fact that I gave him consistently bad reviews; I took objection to his assumption, “Because my story is published in a first rank magazine, it must be good.” Another guy tried to rape me on his livejournal. No one has shown up on my doorstep with a loaded gun, probably because the pennies-per-word most zines pay would barely cover taxi fare to the airport.
And then there are all those wonderful folks who email me, telling me how delighted they were that I understood their story — that at least one person understood their story. Since I write “mixed reviews,” dishing out the good and the bad of every story, many of these folks could have taken umbrage. To a man (and woman), they didn’t get offended, but were really very appreciative. Paul Meloy was one such author.
Here’s my review of “Dying in the Arms of Jean Harlow,” and here’s my review of the titular “Islington Crocodiles.” Eugie Foster has assigned me the review of Meloy’s collection, and I was just getting started on that when I read the acknowledgments. Woot! By the way, I love the way Meloy wraps up his acknowledgments . . .
And a word of thanks to Marina Voikhanskaya, psychiatrist, psychotherapist
and facilitator, who once told me to ‘shit, or get off the pot.’
Well, you hold the result of that counsel in your hands. Oh, yes.
Will I still be able to give an impartial review? You betcha. If there are any stinkers in this collection, readers of The Fix will hear about it. I like Meloy’s style but I’m not a blind fanboy. I’ve renounced authors before (Clive Barker, do you hear me? No? Oh, well.) Nothing harsher than a disappointed fan.
D.
we deserve it, i mean u are my twin – congrats