

Married to a genuine, long-stemmed Texas blonde beauty he surely doesn't deserve on the basis of his looks. Son of a carnival fighter whose truest legacy was stand-up values. In parishes and prisons, drive-ins and day-care centers. The real monsters aren't in basements, they're in families, incubating. Skeletons charging out of closets isn't my idea of liberation. Write something mean-spirited and small, it's satire. Our field is overdosed with flab: take some gratuitous, implausible violence, throw in some unrealistic sex, splatter some guts and hair on the nearest wall, sprinkle in a touch of mystical reference. But, in our game, words have become devalued currency-you can't count on them anymore. Words don't work as stand-alones: they gather their power from juxtaposition.

Over-population, in-breeding, lack of natural predators, limited food supply.

for all the reasons any species starts to run out of road. "Genre" writing is an endangered species. If Joe wanted some stream-of-consciousness, thesaurus-busting river of praise, he would have asked someone else. If you want adjectives, visit the paperback rack at your local airport. Writing the foreword to a significant piece of work has but one rule: tell the truth. If you're looking for cute, keep moving-I consider this opportunity an honor, and I'm not about to squander it on air-pumped hyperbole. That ability is key to understanding the Foreword (below) I wrote for Act of Love: it was written eons before all the prizes, honors, awards, movies, comics, and acclaim all of you now associate with Joe R. Which is a damn good thing-otherwise, NY's lovely system of having you take the Bar Exam in July, but not allowing you to practice law for a minimum of another six months, would have forced us to survive on a cab driver's pay while trying to amass enough equipment to open an office. "I have neither the credentials for (nor the interest in) 'literary criticism.' But I can pick winners. Lansdale: The Zero 5.0laf - The Official Website of Andrew Vachss
