Today we had to drive out to Leeds to pick up three pieces of furniture from my late Aunt Joanne's house, two chairs and a table. The table was for years Joanne's writing table (she was a poet), and now it's going to be my desk. I've had the same desk since 2007, when I replaced the desk I got in 1993. So, this will only be the third desk of my writing career, and I am honored that it will be Joanne's desk.
So, there was that.
This morning on Facebook I posted a somewhat more cogent version of my reaction to Hunters, and I'll repost it here:
WARNING: Stay away from Amazon's new series, Hunters. Imagine that a fourteen year old boy who loves comic books and torture porn and conspiracy theories hears about the Holocaust for the first time and he immediately sits down and writes a screenplay. He wants to be Tarantino, but he ain't. Then his "woke" SJW girlfriend gives it a quick rewrite, but leaves in all the torture porn stuff because she likes that shit, too. Oh, and they set it in the seventies, "because that's super bad ass because Black Panthers." Imagine that, and you have Hunters. Only stupider and more vile.
And as I wrote last night, please, please, please have a look at our current eBay auctions. We're presently weathering a financial crisis borne of a publisher who can't be bothered to pay me. We have copies of the hb of The Ammonite Violin & Others, The Little Yellow Book of Fever Dreams, The Aubergine Alphabet, and the tpb of Daughter of Hounds. I will sign and personalize any book, and I'll even draw a monster doodle inside, if the winning bidder so desires. Please have a look. Thank you.
This morning I read "The Fall of the House of Usher" for the first time in...shit, I don't even know. Maybe decades. And I could help but think, "Fuck, if only Lovecraft had been as good as Poe."