I am more sorry than I can say to hear of the sudden death of John Grant/Paul Barnett AKA @Noircyclopedia on Twitter. He was a long-time writer (and ghost writer), scholar, reviewer, and appreciator of genre fiction — not just noir, but the world of SFF. He collaborated with so many folks, most of whom…
Tag: grief
Thoughts Right Now
Fifteen hundred years right here Oh, burning witches, burning books Burning babies in their looks Yes, indeed Burning everything that’s sacred in my genes It’s a tough week for a lot of women you know, whether you know it or not. Maybe they’ve shared their horror stories with you: maybe you have some yourself. I…
Mom
Marjorie Virginia Laity, née Weber 1937-2017
Goodbye, Kipper
He is gone, he of the splay foot and the silky coat. My little buddy, my little Jean Marais beastie. He’s Connor’s cuddle buddy. He’s my alarm clock; even this morning I awoke thinking I’d heard that impatient yowl. He was always quite the talker. And always underfoot: I always feared one day I’d trip…
Celebrating Graham Joyce
I found out that Graham died just before I headed off to Poland. Stuck in the Warsaw airport for seven unexpected and very long hours, I found it impossible to put away the thought that I was living in a world without Graham Joyce. I’m sure the sight of a woman bursting into tears is…
Crime Fiction in Gdańsk
Here’s where I’ll be the rest of the week. I will endeavour to share pictures and stories as I can, WiFi allowing. I am looking forward to hanging with Mr B and a bunch of new folks, too, and talking about Dorothy Hughes. As I type this up I got the word that Graham Joyce…
Goodbye, Phil Nutman
I really don’t believe it. My friend who made me and Gene feel part of Necon from the start, who always believed in me, who bonded with me over the bad penguin, Badtz-Maru, is dead. He died in Atlanta at 8:55 pm EST last night, his wife of a few short months by his side,…
My Gypsy Ways: Berne
I often joke that I’m heading to Brigadoon when I go off to Berne. It’s true that there are days when the fog closes in as I head up into the hills and it genuinely feels like stepping into the mystic. So I was glad to be able to spend Halloween with my dear friend…
K. A. Laity 