August 24, 2006 2:51 pm
I discover to my chagrin that John Crowley , a man of letters whose muse has given us such works as LITTLE, BIG, maintains a Live Journal. Even in writing impromptu extemporania, he shows his master-craftsmanship of the use of the English language; for example, this brief mention of a time he met Lin Carter struck me as dignitied, melancholy, elegaic, but funny.
http://crowleycrow.livejournal.com/21738.html?nc=13
The short version: Carter asks Crowley when is a sequel to BEASTS coming out? Lin Carter (who no doubt was working on RETURN OF THE SON OF THE PIRATES OF CALLISTO TO ATLANTIS UNDER A GREEN STAR) is astonished anyone would go to the trouble of making up a world and not revisiting it to milk for profits year after year.
One wag in the comments box asks when we are going to see ENGINE AUTUMN and ENGINE WINTER or LITTLER, BIGGER? He he he.
You are wondering why I am chagrinned to read the dignified prose of a great writer? Well, inspecting his journal closely, I notice not once where he has photoshopped in a vigilante toon head on his body, advocating pistol-duels to settle the question of Plutonian planet-status, railed against Alan Moore, discussed the kidnapping of space princesses, or mentioned the bottled city of Kandor. Some people are just better suited to appear in public without a keeper than others. I console myself that I am more grave and stately in public than Harlan Elison.
Who says posting photographs of women dressed as Princess Leia in a metal bra is not dignified?