Pickup on South Street (1953)

This is my space. My living room. My rules.



I am the benevolent dictator here.



I will not ban you just for disagreeing with me.



I will not ban you, necessarily, if it gets heated.



I will ban you if, by my judgment and my judgment alone, your contributions become inappropriate. That includes racism, sexism, homophobia, outrageous excesses of self-promotion, and language. That also includes abuse of the host, or your fellow commenters. 


A word on language: though I write fiction for grownups, some of well into what would be considered the “R” rating, very occasionally well into what would be considered For Adults Only, I am also known to write for children, some of whom may visit here, for news on upcoming publications. My modulation of subject matter for that audience will not always be consistent in this space, but it will be something I keep in mind. If you start acting in ways I would find grossly inappropriate for guests at little Timmy’s backyard birthday bash, you will be booted with extreme prejudice. No arguments, in such a case, will be tolerated.