science fiction, new weird, old weird, very weird - and everything else
not always save for work. never nice.
Reading what's basically a Christmas story on a sunny day in July feels wrong. But the book is due for return on the 6th, and I still haven't settled on which "bigger" SF book to read next (the contestants are Palmer's Too Like the Lightening, Disch's Camp Concentration and Delany's Dhalgren, which is by far the biggest, in number of pages - any opinions?) - so I'm now following grumpy private eye Nick Novak grumpily hunting Christmas presents for his boyfriend.