For the first time in the modest history of this calling card I like to call ‘website’, I missed a monthly chart. Not that it matters, but the reason was as follows: when it was announced that pubs would open in the UK on 17 April, I booked a ticket and flew back to the good Albion of my birth. Since then I’ve been running around supping from the well of social conviviality like a horse that has staggered out of the desert and into town. There is nothing ground-breaking about this sentiment, but the simple ability to sit at a trestle table with a friend and order a four-litre pitcher of beer and drink that beer and order another and then stagger home and dance to Talking Heads is something to cherish. I ain’t gonna be taking things for granted any time soon.
In news: not much. A lovely review for Reality Testing by Jason at This Dad Reads. A short story previously published in The Sea Letter’s anthology and now posted on its website. And finally (a little while back), an essay I wrote about cyberpunk for the polychromatic publication The Abstract Elephant.
Book of the month: All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy. Predictable that I would love this? Yes. Pleasing anyway? Yes.
Music is Queen:
impressionizm.