This morning I saw where Anthony Bourdain killed himself. I thought what I always do when someone takes their own life: they needed someone to save them. When you're in the darkness it surrounds you and there is no way out. Somebody else must bring the doorway to you. How you sustain that is anyone's guess. I wish I knew the answer. I was not a fan but I was barely familiar with his work.
I just kinda sorta have the notion that the key to stopping depression-based suicides lies with the unafflicted. It's easy to let yourself be driven away by someone in the midst of self-destruction. If I'm looking out for number one, if I just can't do it anymore, that may be all I can do but what a pity for the pain I'm leaving behind if I could only see through it. Before someone destroys themselves they often try to destroy those around them, not that I'm implying Bourdain did any such thing. I only base those statements on what I've seen. Or think I have. I may spend too much time alone these days.
There are several changes I have to make on the Schedule page and I'll try to get to those after BLOOD WORK goes back to the publisher. Noircon 2018 has been canceled due to the death of one of the co-founders, so I won't be going to Philadelphia this year, at least as of right now.
As I mentioned above, I'll be reading a new piece at Shade Bar in Manhattan on July 15th, more details to come this weekend (hopefully--soon, anyway). And I'm registered for the New England Crimebake for the first time. I was there a couple of years ago just to sign books but not as a regular participant. William Kent Krueger was there and he said we should catch up later and I just said okay as the surge of people carried him past. Then I left. I feel bad about it, but it was the simplest thing to say, and I'm sure he has no recollection of it. He has an excellent story in BLOOD WORK. When I suggested an alteration to the last lines he told me to go jump. You get that sometimes.
I should post more on that book, too, so I will. Right now though, it is a quarter of two in the morning, I'm on my fourth course of antibiotics for that same damned sinus infection I wrote about a couple of posts and a few months ago, and I think it's time to floss and brush. I need to be careful that I don't puncture the balloon that is my face.
By the way I'm reading Danny Gardner's excellent A NEGRO AND AN OFAY: The Tales of Elliot Caprice and enjoying the style immensely. Pretend "ofay" is a nice word, Bobby, and pick up a copy. I'm afraid the title may put some people off but the book is too good for that. At least the first half. I've been staying up too late working and not getting enough time in reading.
