09/03/2026 20:07

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[Those ofyou who have read the introduction to my 1988 collection of stories, ANGRY CANDY, know that MikeHod ry single one of them goes on, in the second paragraph, to say, “ However there was this one fanwho. “ What is it?” I looked down at him. When they opened the doors, the sharp edge of the wind slashed at them, instantly dispelling thebody warmth they had maintained in the sealed car.

erbacks: each one numbered (he was up to #27 thelast time I looked), pseudonymous, featuring an unpleasant CIA thug named Curt Costener. Whoever their leader had been, however many years ago it had been that the roverpaks hadstarted forming out of foraging solos, I had to give it to him: he’ d been a flinty sharp mother. They sat that way, her hand on his, until the tambour windows rolled up and they were encystedtotally. Handy was howling now, like a Confederatetrooper charging a Union gun emplacement.