They were all alone. Their voices had died like echoes of the words of God spoken and vibrating in the starred deep. There went the captain to the Moon; there Stone with the meteor swarm; there Stimson; there Applegate toward Pluto; there Smith and Turner and all the rest, the shards of the kaleidoscope that . . .
L.K. Mitchell, author of Keeper of Directions, recently asked me to do a guest post on her blog, Pocketful of Charms, and tell her YA readers a little about Komodo dragons. Here is the post if you’d like to check it out.
Today marks the 118th birthday of Dashiell Hammett, the granddaddy of hard boiled detective fiction who gave us such classics as The Maltese Falcon and The Thin Man. Despite everything I should remember Hammett for, my strongest association will always be through my undergraduate creative writing teacher, Michael. He was the first person I successfully internet-stalked . . .
Just as Keith Richards’ Life hit the clearance rack, the next celebrity memoir has come to town. This one is courtesy of Billy Bob Thornton and according to the Chicago Sun-Times, Thornton has some strong opinions about–what else?–Komodo dragons. Naturally. “I don’t even want them in the world, that’s the fact of the matter,” . . .
Here’s an interesting take on it from The New Yorker. Then again, I can also see some ambitious MFA student reading this as a recipe for immortality.