Back in 1990, I had to do a project on a writer in a high school lit class. Being a smart-assed speculative fiction fan, I did it on Lucius Shepard. The only problem was that in those pre-Internet days I didn’t have access to much information about him, outside of the stuff on the book jacket flaps.
In desperation, I wrote his publisher begging for some biographical detail, and weeks later received a handwritten note from the man himself, with some xeroxes of (I think) a Rolling Stone interview and some other assets. Seriously cool. I’m sorry he’s gone.
