One Day Closer to Death: Eight Stabs at Immortality by Denton Bradley

One Day Closer to Death: Eight Stabs at Immortality by Denton Bradley

Author:Denton, Bradley [Denton, Bradley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Horror
ISBN: 9780312181505
Google: 28YMPQAACAAJ
Amazon: 0312181507
Goodreads: 363231
Publisher: St Martins Pr
Published: 1998-01-01T08:00:00+00:00


Introduction to “We Love Lydia Love”

There’s an old adage that says writers (or artists or musicians) should write (or paint or sing) only about things they know firsthand, and I’ve met a number of writers (etc.) who take that adage to heart. Their chain of logic is as follows: 1) Writing (etc.) is about life. 2) Life at its purest involves suffering and confusion. 3) I must therefore suffer and become confused. And 4) Hey! Drugs and destructive liaisons could be a fun way to accomplish 3)!

My own philosophy differs. My drug of choice is Ben & Jerry’s Coffee-Toffee Crunch, and I’ve been married for seventeen years. In other words, I don’t think you have to be hip or degenerate to be creative… just so long as you live in a place that serves that function for you.

And that brings me to Austin, Texas, which (with the Hill Country) provides the setting for “We Love Lydia Love.”

I’ve lived in and around Austin since 1988, and I can assure you that it’s a stunning city of beautiful hills, wooded glades, vibrant neighborhoods, and sparkling creeks.

I can also assure you that it’s an urban armpit of hideous overpasses, God-awful architecture, allergens that could choke a cyborg, and traffic that sucks beyond belief.

Austin is an isolated bastion of progressive thought in a conservative state. It’s also the state capital.

It’s a city where country music rules, rock ‘n’ roll will never die, and blues is king. It’s the Live Music Capital of the World—but there’s a strict noise ordinance, so don’t let a whisper of that live music seep into a residential neighborhood after 10:00 P.M.

Its natives are fierce defenders of everything Austintatious: barbecue, Barton Springs, slackerdom, salamanders, Sixth Street, free movies, live oaks, the O. Henry Pun-Off, salsa, bare chests, bad poetry, worse tattoos, chicken-fried steak, and armadillos. And some of the fiercest native defenders have Yankee accents.

This was the home of Madalyn Murray O’Hair until she vanished in 1995. (One theory suggests it was the Rapture.) It’s still the home of American Atheists, a passel of pagans, and the biggest Baptist church I’ve ever seen.

It’s also the home of James Michener, and of the Butthole Surfers.

In short, Austin may be the most schizophrenic city on the planet. It’s a joy and a trial, a pain and a pride.

It’s perfect, and I never want to live anywhere else.



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