Return of Last and First Lines

OK. Let me get right to this. These opening and closing lines come from a science fiction novel of the 50s by a writer who I think may be on the verge of the kind of breakthrough Philip K. Dick had in the 80's. At least he should be. This is one of my favorite openings. Ever. You want a narrative hook? Check this shit out.

First Lines: They caught the kid doing something disgusting under the bleachers at the high-school stadium, and he was sent home from the grammar school across the street. He was eight years old then. He'd been doing it for years.

Last Lines: I have a feeling - I can almost put my finger on it - it's sort of a half memory about loving somebody who was very, very good. But maybe I made that up. Now you're laughing at me. . .

Maybe it's just me, but I don't think you can read those lines without needing to know just what the kid was doing under the bleachers. Some stories hook you with action, or suspense. Some pose an intriguing puzzle or intellectual problem, but this story goes right for everyone's weak spot: Morbid Curiosity! There is no way I am stopping until I find out what kind of disgusting something was being done by an eight year old at the high-school stadium. The ickier the better. Don't you just have to know?

OK. Tomorrow I'll tell you what book you can read to find out. Oh, hell! I can't do that to you. Come back tomorrow and I'll tell you what the kid was doing. You find out about 4 pages in anyway.

Book Recommendation Alert

Although I am constanly blathering on about some great book I have read, or heard about, or want to read, or saw reviewed, or found and bought, or found and need to buy, or need to find (or so people tell me), I really am reluctant to make generalized recommendations about what people should read. There are just too many books, too many types of readers, and different tastes to think that even a small portion of people will like the same book. And, of course, if I liked it that is likely to be the kiss of death for mass popularity. More likely the book is going to be some weird niche cult item with limited appeal. Mainly limited to me and other trashy/pulpy/mystery/science fiction/slipstream/literary type readers.

So it is with great trepidation that I am going to recommend a book to everyone for the holiday season. No! not a Christmas book. I mean the Halloween season.

I have an annual ritual that I would recommend to anyone who enjoys good stories. Autumn is my favorite time of the year, and every fall, I revisit The October Country by Ray Bradbury. In nineteen weirdly wonderful tales, a master of the short story captures that special place " . . .where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger and midnights stay." You will meet a dwarf obsessed with funhouse mirrors, a man afraid of his own skeleton, a man pursued by the wind, the Crowd that shows up to gawk at every accident, a mother convinced her newborn baby is trying to kill her and many others. Long after you have returned from The October Country, the chill will stay with you.

Not Crazy... Just Lazy

Sorry for the lacunae, but I think this time I am back for real. I won't spend too much time explaining. In fact, one of my pet peeves is when people, who "owe" you a letter (odd concept now that I think of it: to owe someone a letter), write to you and then spend the whole letter apologizing and explaining why they haven't written sooner. (Another of my pet peeves is when the band exhorts people to get up and dance. Hey, if your music doesn't inspire people get up and dance I don't think they need someone trying to guilt trip them onto the dance floor. But I digress).

Anyway suffice it to say that I have been not posting for a variety of lame reasons mostly having to do with the deadly sin of sloth. Plus, after the inititial thrill, I think I was a little bit weirded-out when I found out someone I didn't even know was reading my blog. I was sort of intimidated by the whole idea, and I think I got bloggers block. Whatever. I think I'm over it now (the self-conciousness, not the sloth).

The only good reason that I have is that my rabbit did eat through the cords of my keyboard, mouse, and phone line to the computer, really, but that only happened about a week and a half ago so prior to that I was just goofing off. I have now replaced the keyboard, mouse and phone line and tried to bunny-proof better around the computer.