Today, I received the Kraft book. It promises sure literary delight. The important thing about having received it is that I didn't buy it: you guys did, with donations, because you are basically more excellent than anybody else on the internet. THE ENTIRE INTERNET. I want you to know that.

It will get a special place of honor on my shelf while I contemplate how many things I have still to read before I can ever touch it. And in the meantime, there'll be a review in the next few days to thank all of you for being the raddest of rads.

Back to the grindstone. Anne out.

Ta-daa! The Cartier review is up and running, and if you were feeling a dearth of vampires, histrionics or horribly abused period language in your day, I have come to your rescue. I'm optimistic; I mean, how many more bad vampire versions of this story could there possibly be? (Please don't give me realistic estimates. It's too early in the day to start drinking.)

Three, count 'em, three whole people have found it in their hearts to toss me a couple of pennies since the donation button went up; SY, JD and AM, you are my heroes forever. Five dollars says I'm now off to review Popcorn, a 1991 horror adaptation with a cover featuring a woman's skinned face. This can go nowhere but up.