I’m not ashamed; I admit freely I bought the damn thing for the cover. Because what a fucking cover, huh?
That it was actually a painting in one of the stories in the book, the story I’ll impolitically allow was the best in the book, is just a lovely lagniappe. —Anyway, it’s one of the Books Without Which, along with that dam’ pioneering War for the Oaks; those odd little off-shoots of mightabeen, urban fantasies scrabbling for what light and air they can find these days in the shadow of leather-trouser’d vampires and tramp-stamped lycanthropes.
I swear I had both of the early anthologies, having bought the one on a whim and going back for another, but only the one’s on the shelf these days; them and Finder’s the extent of my travels in the Borderlands, and that was some time ago. —Well, and The Last Hot Time, but that came later, and is more sideways than straight-on; Chicago, maybe and not Minneapolis? —Not that Minneapolis is Bordertown, not all on its lonesome. —I digress. Look!
All the stories are now done, and have been turned in to our publisher, Random House. The book is called Welcome to Bordertown—and that’s also the name of the story that Ellen Kushner and I wrote together for the volume.
So sayeth Terri Windling. And this would be the table of contents; do note the presence of among many other luminaries Sara Ryan and Dylan Meconis, both of them friends of this city, as well. (For inst.) —To be published in 2011.
—posted 2465 days ago