dead writers - fuckin' dead writers

Damnit. Another one.

James Crumley authored one of my all time favorite books. The Last Good Kiss. He died September 20. Shit. And how fuckin' weird is it that I used The Last Good Kiss book cover for my Sept. 13th entry called "fuckin' writers." Was I channeling him or what?

David McCrumber from the Seattle PI wrote this:

Most of all, I'll remember the many kindnesses he showed me and many others who fashioned themselves writers. I'll savor the conversations and the laughs, the great toasty evenings -- in his Missoula home with the wonderful Martha Elizabeth, Jim's wife, with a cat on every lap and Merle and Lucinda and Lefty on the stereo; at Chico Hot Springs, where Jim would go annually for a fall getaway; and at the Guest House bar in Livingston, which is handy between the first two.

I included this quote because of one phrase..."Merle and Lucinda and Lefty on the stereo." Surely the Lucinda referred to here is Lucinda Williams, one of my road sisters albeit a sister only in spirit and cd and, sadly, not physically.

Man, another person added to my Dead Writer's Society which includes (but is not limited to) Nuala O'Faolain, Larry Brown, Hunter S. Thompson, Spalding Gray, on and on.

Damnit.