By Harlan Ellison
Foreward. Frontiers of Edgeville / through Norman Spinrad
Pennies, off a useless man's eyes
The finish of the time of Leinard
3 faces of worry: an essay
Walk the excessive steel
The phrases in Spock's mouth: an essay
From an exceptional height
Xenogenesis: an essay
Ernest and the computing device God
Over the process his mythical occupation, Harlan Ellison has de?ed-and occasionally de?ned-modern myth literature, all whereas refusing to permit any style to assert him. A Grand grasp of the technological know-how Fiction Writers of the US, winner of the Lifetime fulfillment Award from the Horror Writers organization in addition to winner of numerous awards, together with the Hugo, Nebula, Edgar Allan Poe and Bram Stoker, Ellison is as unpredictable as he's specified, irrepressible as he's infuriating. E-Reads is proud to put up over thirty titles in Ellisonís awesome catalog, now to be had in a sublime new package deal that includes Ellison himself. Genius by no means felt so flamable. - Twelve shorts tales and essays from Harlan Ellison, OVER the sting is a must-read for any fan of the wild abandon and laser concentration of 1 of the century's so much impressive authors. complicated, eye-catching, audacious, sublime--it's no longer hyperbole whilst utilized to the Hugo and Nebula Award-winning writer whom The Washington publish calls "one of the good residing American brief tale writers."
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Additional resources for Over the Edge
John! ” The thing gave chase, its shaved-ham feet slapping the floor behind me. My candle went out. I tossed it aside. I saw a closed door to my right, so I skidded to a stop, threw it open, and flung myself in. Linen shelves smacked me in the face and I fell back out of the closet, dazed. The meat man wrapped its cold links around my neck and lifted me up. It pinned me against the wall. “You disappoint me. All those times we have dueled. In the desert. In the city. ” I was so impressed by this thing’s ability to articulate words using that flapping deer tongue and a frozen turkey that I almost lost track of what it was saying.
My adopted family moved away, I won’t tell you where they are. But get out your pen because you’ll want to write this down. My biological mom? ” “That must have been hard. What was the—” “She was a strung-out, crank-addicted cannibal, dabbled in vampirism and shamanism. My mom, she worshipped some major devil when I was a toddler. Blew her welfare check every month on black candles. Sure, Satan would do her favors now and then, but there’s always a catch with the Devil. ” “No. This, this silliness, it’s what I do when I’m nervous.
I spun around, moved toward the commotion. The dog seemed to eye me carefully, then ran off in the other direction. I looked around— Ah. Giggling now. There was a bundle of girls, away from the stage, huddled with their backs to the band. They were surrounding a black guy with dreadlocks, an overcoat. He had one of those Rastafarian berets on his head, definitely going for a look, wanting the attention. Two of the girls had their hands over their mouths, eyes bulging, screaming for the guy to do it again, do it again.
Over the Edge by Harlan Ellison