What can YOU say in six sentences?
Seemed like that Illinois town he was always writing about was my hometown. I recognized it, the dandelion construct behind the bat-winged grandmothers and the malignant winds and the things stored in jars in dusty old sheds and the black water running down there in the cistern. Long past midnight, I could hear the carnival staking up tents in the darkness on the edge of town. More than the special place he held in his heart for Halloween, more than his extrapolations on Martian civilization and the secrets hidden in their canals, more than the silvery ships and illustrated men, I felt that small town nostalgia in his stories, an America that was dreaming at dusk. I hope they were there to meet him, all the citizens of the October Country. I hope they're telling stories, and saving a place for me.