"The Uncertain Places."
It happened Monday at high noon.
When I heard the noise, I just naturally assumed that either the cats had pushed over a bookshelf or that my diet had fallen on hard times.
Finally, I looked out the front door and saw that a tree had somehow leapt from the center of the front yard, turned end over end, and poked a hole in the roof before bashing in the eaves above the garage.
Unfortunately, my insurance isn't going to pay for the entire cost of fixing the roof. Heck, it cost $75 just to have a guy cut up and haul away the tree. I wonder if I can write this off as, say, hazardous duty pay or business expenses on my next income tax return. Or, perhaps I should send Lisa Goldstein a bill. After all, if she hadn't written the novel, I wouldn't have read the novel and written a review that drew the attention of dwarves and other denizens from the world of faerie to my doorstep.
It's not like I was doing spells or anything to attract folks from areas where worlds overlap or where boundaries are thin or where a phrase (accoding to Goldstein) like "Rick Rack Ruck" can cause the earth to open up.
Even though I'm currently reading and enjoying "The Night Circus," I'm thinking twice (at least) about writing a review. Goodness knows, I don't need a circus tent in my yard, much less an illusionist knocking at the front door.
Malcolm R. Campbell is the author of magical realism and contemporary fantasy novels that do not cause bad things to happen to readers and reviewers.