January 05, 2006, 12:47 AM:
"...And, hey, look at the bright side--if you had appeared in a James Ellroy novel, it would be as a couple of dead prostitutes."
Hey. Well do I remember those Little Magazine editorial meetings of the late 1980s, in which James Ellroy regaled us nigh unto unconsciousness with tales of dead prostitutes, authentic and not. You haven't lived until you've listened to James Ellroy concoct a tale of corpsical authenticity while Chip Delany orders another round of Clams Casino.
(Why, yes, we have in fact lived an interesting life, thanks for asking.)
I was there. It really was like that. Thanks, Patrick, for reminding me because I had forgotten. Ellroy was fascinating to watch. The Little Magazine was a poetry magazine with sufficiently high production standards that David Hartwell, its publisher, could only afford to publish it once in a while. Nevertheless, we the staff met once a week. We would read poetry to together and then go out for drinks on the Upper West Side and talk about science fiction. Ellroy changed that a bit by adding some, ah, additional themes to the conversation.
MEANWHILE, I am engaged in a painful act of self-promotion, trying to come up with a current bio and bibliography in time for the Tachyon catalog deadline. (They are publishing our Year's Best Fantasy.) From the addresses in the group Tachyon email, I gather that Susan Palwick, who also witnessed the scene Patrick describes, is engaged in a similar exercise.
MEANWHILE, Alex at Yorkshire Ranter has a nice mediation on two of Kipling's SF stories and their relevance today.