So this week I’m reading Extinct, a post-apocalyptic novel by Ike Hamill:
So this week I was reading The Spirit Clearing, a novel (which would have been better as a short story*) about a young man who, after surviving a horrific car accident, wakes to find that his left eye has been drained of all coloration, but has gained the ability to see ghosts, auras, the past, and, possibly the future. Trading a baby blue for second sight? Sure, why not.
So those who are familiar with the sorts of other things I’ve done “not a review” entries on, not to mention the sorts of things I write, and who also are familiar with the show Preacher* on AMC, will likely not be surprised to learn that I’ve never missed a single episode of that unhinged horror/comedy/fantasy/bizarro-land production.
So this week I finally got around to reading Lost Souls, the classic 1992 vampire novel by Poppy Z. Brite:
So this week I’m reading The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, a horror/dark fantasy/historical/possibly semi-autobiographical novel by the violinist and pop/punk/cabaret/sort-of-unclassifiable singer Emilie Autumn.
So this week I’m reading Three Moments of an Explosion, a collection of short stories by one of my favorite writers, China Miéville:
This week I was reading The Vagrant, by Peter Newman, in which Ted Danson, Steve Guttenberg, Tom Selleck, and a baby wander through a post-apocalyptic wasteland that―oh, wait, sorry, that was Three Men and a Baby. No, in The Vagrant, there’s just one man, a baby, and a goat. And, eventually, a few hangers-on. They are definitely wandering through a post-apocalyptic wasteland, though.