Tuesday, July 31, 2007

No Future

Don't you hate it when you're cruising someone else's neighborhood for cool new things to read and find your own stuff instead? That's what happened to me yesterday while trolling through the dark alleys of Sarahs' idiosyncratic mind, where I found that she's already linked to my new column at Bookslut. I swear, the woman is clairvoyant. It's like the ephemera of crime fiction gets beamed directly to her brain.

Anyway, enjoy reading "Future Imperfect," a roundup of all the futuristic, noir-tinged fiction that has buzzed the tower here this month. The column includes first glances at Warren Ellis' Crooked Little Vein, Richard K. Morgan's icy Thirteen, William Gibson's paranoid thoughts on our Spook Country, a chat with science fiction novelist Kevin J. Anderson, and a preview of Samedi the Deafness by the poet Jesse Ball. Yes, I know these aren't technically mysteries. I'm experimenting a little. And it's August, everyone is on vacation, and no one is reading the bloody thing anyway. Let it go.

I also beg that you contemplate, elsewhere in the August issue, Liz Miller's more clear-eyed take on Crooked Little Vein in her very well-composed full review. Delving deeper, you'll also find an interview with Matt Ruff about his new novel Bad Monkeys, Colleen Mondor's thorough look at a new anthology of interstitial fiction and her new column, "Last Chance At Escape." And in keeping with our bug-eyed theme for the month (entirely coincidental, mind you), Paul Kincaid takes a gander at the mainstream fiction of Philip K. Dick.

Here's a few other interesting items culled from my virtual sticky notes....

Speaking of Blade Runner, Yahoo has exclusive clips from the new "Final Cut" coming to DVD.

Warren Ellis gets a going-over at Newsarama. Back at his own site, he describes his jaunt to Arizona in wonderfully amputated prose: "Desert. Red Rocks. Brush. Valleys. Meth Labs." Reminds me of Denver on a sunny weekend. They're all sunny weekends, there, come to think of it.

Michelangelo Antonioni, the artist behind Blow-Up and Zabriskie Point, has gone on to the great screening room in the sky, a day after Ingmar Bergman. My memories of a hazy summer film class are just a little dimmer.

The new TNT miniseries adaptation of Robert Littell's CIA masterpiece The Company reminds the writer of this preview of a Caleb Carr novel. Which makes no sense at all if you think about it for a minute or two.

As expected, Little Brown ponied up $7.3 million for the rights to Keith Richard's autobiography. Tragically, the devilish guitarist is working with a ghostwriter. I personally was hoping for an audiobook-only version. Just 12 hours of Keef babbling into a tape machine and noodling around with a stratocaster. "Right....heh...Iz vis t'ing even on? Heh....."

Did you know William Gibson took a shot at the Aliens III screenplay? I confess, I did not. It's worth a look.

I'm going back to dozing and contemplating this new streaming cam of Picadilly Circus. Will put out an ABP if anything juicy comes up.

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