Werewolves out in the World, Part IX

Nine of these already? I think so. I mean, I’m no expert professional seasoned counter or anything, and my roman-numeral-fu maybe isn’t operating at the absolute highest level, but still, here we are, I think. And? Here’s where we’ve been: one werewolf, two werewolves, three werewolves, four. Five werewolves, six werewolves, seven werewolves, and one more.  That’s the thing with werewolves. You think you’ve taken care of them all, and then one’s got your throat in its teeth, is staring you in the eye. But let’s stop with the words, get to images. Well, the images with me talking all over them, like: Dude. At first I thought my eyes were all deceived, but then I refreshed the browser, refreshed my head, checked was I awake, and yep: that’s Mongrels, sharing some page space with STNG.  Be still my beating heart:   Think this mag is the second place that month I showed up alongside Molly Tanzer. Here’s to more and more and always:   Sound effects? Always-always appreciated. Thank you, Ian:   Same here: how to read with a dustjacket on? Somewhere I’ve got a White’s Boots box stuffed to bursting with dustjackets. Used to be the first order of business, after getting a book: peel it from its jacket. But then I started having books come out, and I felt different about them somehow. Like, they weren’t just in the way, they were intrinsically cool. But I still have to take them off for reading. Not only do they get in the way, but they  . . . → → →

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