Stuff I've been enjoying:

Clive Barker's The Thief of Always. This one feels a bit different than most of Barker's other books and stories. In blunt terms, PG or PG-13 rather than R or X, which is the obvious difference.

I don't like saying this is a kid's book; Clive does, however, unveil this story from a child's perspective.

I wonder... look. Let's say you're a saxophone player. Eventually, if you're playing, you're going to tangle with Charlie Parker, or John Coltrane, or Sonny or Harry or... Guitar player? Plug into Hendrix, or Segovia... you get the point.

Every artist tangles with their influences. I wonder if this book was the one where Clive Barker addressed himself to Ray Bradbury. You'll spot that one about three paragraphs in, I think, so I'm not giving any secrets that the preview button, or a quick scan of the first chapter if you're standing at a bookshelf, won't reveal.

I don't enjoy the "If you like So-and-So, you'll love this" tag lines myself. Which is why I'm dancing around, trying not to say "If you love Ray Bradbury, this is Clive Barker's tribute!" Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, that's not my place to say, I didn't write The Thief of Always.

I just loved the story. Fell into the gap-toothed smile the purveyor of dreams withheld tempts our hero with, and I was in to the end.

And I loved that, whether Barker conjured it apurpose or not, The Thief's home, where memory and life and time have been looted from their rightful owners, sits in a close-spun part of that same twilight country where Jim Nightshade and William Halloway and Mr. Dark found their own confrontations.