That just won’t do.
A few words on what I consider a “favourite author,” so’s you know where I’m coming from. There are plenty of people on my mental list of authors whose work I regularly enjoy, but a favourite goes above and beyond that. Most of the time, I want to have at least three or four of a writer’s books under my belt before I’ll cautiously declare they’re a favourite, maybe, unless the wind shifts. It takes something pretty durned special to make me leap straight into the reader/favourite author relationship.
Ysabeau S. Wilce got on the list by virtue of one novella, one short story, and one novel. She’s that fucking good.
The novella in question--“The Lineaments of Gratified Desire”--served as my gateway into her work. By the time I’d spent three pages immersed in Wilce’s twisty-turny prose and the brutal, glorious world it described, I knew I had to seek out and devour everything this woman had ever written.
