Des Lewis will be 77 years old on 18 January 2025
Those who have read these episodic brainstorming reviews of mine must know they are very personal — rough-shod and spontaneous. Synchronicity and anagram mixed. I know they are not professional, never potentially publishable other than in the madness of my head, but I do hope they show grains of dark truth and cosmic panache.
These Des Lewis Gestalt Real-Time Reviews were founded in 2008.
‘What’s the loveliest word in the English language, officer? In the sound it makes in your mouth, in the shape it makes on the page? What do you think? Well now, I’ll tell you: E-L-B-O-W. Elbow.’ — THE SINGING DETECTIVE
“How shall a man find his way unless he lose it?” — Walter de la Mare
To any current genre author I have reviewed before — if you have a new story recently published or soon to be published in a collection or anthology, you may have a review by me of the story that also showcases where it is published. See HERE. (This is because I am no longer well enough to review as many books as I once did.)
Fresh Fictions, free to read HERE.
No AI input in preparation of my texts whatsoever.
THE NEW NONSCENIC
Photos here: https://conezero.wordpress.com/2024/02/24/d-f-lewis-recent-photos-1/
Twelve, tall, narrow, textured, rough-edged, hand-stitched pages, between two thicker pages as covers. It as if it is a tract that will surely outlast any book collection diversified when their owner is dead, died after an unproductive cough, collectible by being flattened at the bottom of an oubliette craftily slanted beyond sight only to be rediscovered when all of us who read it and have read this review of it are dead, too. And this work is a fine Jonathan Wood stylish exercise in a family of characters who may not now exist because they are in social isolation elsewhere acting as talking heads on FaceTime! Or it is a tract about someone dying — expiring Covidually while it is being written, co-sharing with his family of real or imagined characters and their plus-ones, some of whom are lurking in cupboards … cupboards layered or lined with real or imagined copies of this very tract, I wonder. My copy has its mentioned marginalia in it, now, so beware! And this, momentously, is the first work I have reviewed where I need not extrapolate upon its preternatural connections with the pandemic — because it is evidentially written after the pandemic happened, not before!