July 31st, 2011

ima ichiko shikigami

Noons of dryness

100 Demons comes out one tank a year and pretty much always has. That I feel obscurely shortchanged by this, I now see, is down to the great catch-up of 2006-2007. The loonie was high then and I ordered the wide-han volumes I didn't have, in French or Japanese, in bunches here and there, and then proceeded to read and reread them many times. At the same time I was getting current and back issues of Nemuki. So yes, for about eighteen months I was swimming in 100 Demons. And then there was Woxin and Pratchett and the twists of the Gaiden to distract me, so it was 2009 before I began to feel 100 Demons starved. And now-- well, same as last fall: this is the one thing that can make me remember what the fannish thrill is all about. The sense of heightened reality and heightened emotion and simple happiness, to be in someone else's world reading what one's old friends are up to now. Dreams are the only thing that comes close to the same feel-- same as fandom and same as Ima Ichiko, both.

Fandom is a drug, yes, and a very good drug. Worked for fifteen years. Does not work any more, alas. Must try religion now.
dragons got claws!

(no subject)

Reading Rivers of London, I'm reminded of another difference between genre (so-called) and mainstream (soi-disant). Genre protagonists are likable more often than not; mainstream protags rarely are. At least not in the last 80 years; the 19th century by now is another country. But I'm pleased with my sensible pair of police officers so far and look forward to more time in their company.