Today I have started with the inevitable cold, the one you get if you never go out and meet people ordinarily. I sat around in the sun and read Half-Sick of Shadows by David Logan.
I wrote this to David Logan on completion.
"My wife just bought me 'Half-Sick of Shadows' thinking, without fully knowing why, that it would be right up my street. She was correct. I read it in a single sitting, noting (with dismay) elements from my own novels (Future Art Factory and Bogus Focus), but rendered properly, as a real author would. So much for my dreams of originality. (etc. etc.)
What else can I say? Less, preferably. I will find and read more. Perhaps in doing so I'll discover the contents of future novels I now needn't attempt. This is my long-winded way of saying: great stuff!"
It's true, there are ideas that could have been from one of my novels, if you can imagine one of my novels written by an actual writer.
However.
It turns out there are 2 David Logans. Yes, I wrote to the wrong one. I know because he wrote back telling me so. So I apologised and promised to buy one of his. I picked one at random without looking properly. Amazingly, stupidly, I picked the last of a trilogy. He's laughing at me now. I went and ordered the other two because I felt such a pillock. Hope they're good. Can't seem to contact the original David Logan and tell him of his unknowing partial plagiarism. I expect he wouldn't be interested anyway.
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