someone thinks that genre fiction has resulted in almost complete by the work of Edgar A. Poe, armed like Minerva from the mind of Zeus. Or , which to me seems more likely that the long result of legends cantari and by which our ancestors Indo softened vigils around the fire during their migrations. Or even that it is instead a direct heir of those fogliettoni that since the industrial revolution involving the masses' growing taste for adventure and the unusual, accomplices of the new wonders that modern science was discovering with abundance.
Either one thing or another, it is certain that in the heterogeneous world of yellow, black, horror, science fiction and fantasy is felt even in the diversity of themes and styles, some air of family: the fact we are all children of the same desire for adventure.
And sometimes I find myself thinking how nice it would if there were indeed some Jamaica Inn a part, or Admiral Benbow Inn , or maybe one of the Seven Sins Taverna: A place where all fans of gender, who are writers, readers, or just curious, could happen time to time to meet with their peers. So, without limitation or obligation, as happens sometimes in unexpected friend's house. A
astroporto on the rings of Saturn would imagine a project too ambitious, but at least a coffee somewhere? Sure, there are a lot of virtual sites for every taste and too cluttered with requests and comments, but you want to put the charm of the real space and matter? In addition to that of sound, sight, and perhaps the ineffable aroma of exotic drinks like the immortal Gin-sling (four parts gin and one that you want)?
I really think that we should find it somewhere, sooner or later, a place where that sort of carry our masks and daggers. Maybe it already exists, and it may be that there comes in things such as those outlined in the little film that will enclose (an unlikely comment in Russian adds an exotic touch to the affair). But the strong man
not be stopped on his way to these little silly, no?
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