Thursday October 22nd 2015
word Letlander has always been a problem. It was a
temporary expedient until a better word rose from some
kind of ashes. Putting The in front of
Letlander compounds the problem. And it's not as though
I don't have useful things to do. One solution is to
potlatch, but if I recall The Letlander has endured
potlatch several times before and remains bushy tailed,
beady eyed and chipper. The other aggravating constant
is that The Letlander is Book Five Point One in The
Rabbit of Usk.
All the same, we
writers of pulp are stubborn and often uncaring creatures,
it's a tough world we occupy, dispensing justice, dragging
out narrative, bumping off unsavory characters and sometimes
just going round and round in endless circles. And the
question is why? It's kind of like Everest, I suppose.
Why even think about climbing it? Hillary's Edwardian
answer, a feeble one in my view, was "Because it's there!"
And The Letlander is The Letlander, I guess. In time I might
even learn to live with it.