It was the time of the Sun Dance and the Big Tractor Pull. Freddy-in-the-Hollow and I had traveled three days to be at the river. We were almost late, what with the sandstorm and the raid on the white settlement over to Old Dallas.
He knows everything there is to know about B movies, he can sing fifties rock and TV theme songs all night long (and often does), he likes to fish, and he just happens to be the most startling, original, and entertaining short story writer in science fiction today.
As a writer, Howard is a Unique. You have never seen anything like the stories collected here; you will never see anything like them again. This is another sign of a genius—good, bad, or indifferent, nobody but Howard could possibly have written one of Howard's stories; in most cases, nobody but Howard could possibly have even thought of them.
Ward Waldrop, in his iridescent sharkskin suit, was standing by the bookcase, idly surveying his wall full of titanium-framed award certificates. He turned and looked over at me, tilting his head to peer over his hornrimmed glasses, the bigtime creative director focussing all his attention on little me. He shook his head, slowly and sadly.
This week is our first Author Focus week at Strange Horizons, featuring Howard Waldrop, one of the most unusual writers in the speculative fiction field. This article provides a brief introduction to Waldrop's fiction, and also links to three other fascinating introductions to Waldrop: one by George R. R. Martin, one by Gardner Dozois, and one by Eileen Gunn and Leslie What.
