Gary William Murning Online

I despair when I read stories like this on the state of funding for the sciences in the UK. It no longer seems the priority it once was — the ignorant simply “not bothered”, whilst the plain stupid probably believe that we’ll be safer, because the science boffins will have less money “to build, like, bigger bombs and stuff”.

The reality is, of course, a lot different. Many of us simply wouldn’t be here today were it not for science of one form or another. We certainly wouldn’t enjoy the lives of luxury we currently enjoy. That 42″ LCD TV you watch? Science. The pills that keep your hypertension in check or help you be a fine upstanding fellow in the bedroom? Science. The airbag that inflates in nanoseconds (hopefully) when you smash your car up the arse of another? Science. The double-glazed units that insulate our houses? Science.

Need I go on? It’s a cliché, but investing in science really is investing our future. Heaven knows, if we blow this planet up, I want to be on Mars when we do it. And how is that achieved?

Now you’re getting it.

[EDIT: This might be of further interest: Sir David said it was "a scandal" that there was "no place for continuing series of programmes about science or serious music or in-depth interviews". ]

Following up my Death in the Gallery, I bring you Head Lice in an Israeli Museum.

It suddenly occurred to me this afternoon, whilst writing a long overdue email to my friend Jane, that by the middle of the summer I will be thinking about my next writing project. Children of the Resolution will be, by the back end of June, at the latest, in second draft phase and I’ll probably already be researching/outlining what will by then be “the new one.”

Children of the Resolution, and the time it’s taking to write it, is just flying by, and whilst I’ll be a little sad to leave behind that time and those memories, I’m also going to be extremely excited about where it might take me. It is, unquestionably, the most marketable novel I’ve ever written, and given the right backing I’m frighteningly confident that it could do really well.

With that in mind, I have to ask myself, What next? I’m tempted to plump for another semi-autobiographical piece — one that goes into the aspects of “Carl’s” life that Children of the Resolution leaves untouched. But that isn’t what I want to do, for many reasons, but principally because that “job” is done, and another semi-autobiographical piece wouldn’t have the central theme that Children has. Maybe I’ll see it differently ten years down the line, but for now, no. That’s enough.

There’s also a chance that The Realm of the Hungry Ghosts will be sold by this time — and I think something more in that vein is how I’d like to continue. Ordinary people, struggling with extraordinary circumstances.

Isolation has interested me for a while, and I think I’d like to look at that. A small cast of characters cut off from the rest of humanity, or possibly a single character. We have a lot of disused ironstone mines in the hills near where I live, and I’ve wanted to use them for a while, now. Maybe this will be my opportunity. I don’t know.

Either way, I’m looking forward to the whole process of discovery (which I guess has already started!)

It’s a significant part of why I enjoy writing so much.

A favouite quote from a remarkable man…

“You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you’re finished, you’ll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird… So let’s look at the bird and see what it’s doing — that’s what counts. I learned very early the difference between knowing the name of something and knowing something.“

Richard Feynman
US educator & physicist 1918 - 1988

Now, call me sick, but this really had me chuckling:

“Everything will be done in consultation with the relatives, and the public will watch the death in an appropriately private atmosphere.”

How on earth can you achieve a private atmosphere in a public art gallery? Is that the artisic bit? Because I certainly don’t see anything else in what he’s doing that qualifies as art.

I’ll give it a miss — as a visitor to the “exhibition” and, more to the point, a participant.

Yesterday I hit 67,000 words with Children of the Resolution so — since my target is 70,000 by the end of the month, a target I’ll easily hit — I took the day off and, this afternoon, we headed out over Helmsley way, coming back through Hutton-le-Hole, Castleton and Commondale. I briefly entertained the notion of going in search of the stone circle on the moors surrounding Commondale (which I mentioned here), but decided against it; I don’t do hiking, with or without the need for a map and compass (and in this case, that’s a with.) Instead, we drove around the strolling grouse (which were probably partridges… or pheasants, I never can tell the difference) and generally kept our fingers crossed that the fog didn’t get any thicker.

This morning, I again contacted S, my teacher from way back when I was ten. She’d told me while I was researching Children of the Resolution that she’d be willing to read it, so I’ve finally remembered and sent some over. I’m now more nervous than I am when I submit my work to agents and publishers! I hope it doesn’t earn me lines or a detention.

This news story also grabbed my attention: Elvis Presley’s Secret Visit to England. I can’t help wondering what he and Tommy got up to while he was over here… I know, how about a competition? I’ll give a signed copy of Children of the Resolution (once it’s published) to the person who can come up with the most entertaining (work/child-safe) story.

Knock yourselves out.

I always enjoy it when stories that were considered science fiction when I was a boy slowly (and sometimes not so slowly!) become fact, so I was especially pleased to read this article today. A wonderful development for the patients, and further evidence that Kurzweil’s theory of man merging with machine is correct.

Now, I’m not a fan of the Hairy Porter (sorry, Harry Potter) books, so when I read of Ms Rowling’s attempts to block Vander Ark’s The Harry Potter Lexicon, I veiwed it fairly dispassionately, and solely from the perspective of a writer.

The first thing that occurred to me was that Vander Ark isn’t actually setting a precedent by writing a “guide”. That was done a long time ago. Many “guides” are written of famous works that having nothing to do with the original author — this springs to mind, for example.

So that in itself doesn’t justify blocking the book, in my opinion. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that I’d encourage such guides so long as they offer good quality analysis and explanation.

But does this book do that? According to Rowling, no. However, after an admittedly brief look at Vander Ark’s website, I’m not convinced that he has just “plundered [her] prose and merely reprinted it in a A-to-Z format”, as JKR claims. This biography of the character Hermione may illustrate what I mean (though I would be interested in hearing from Potter fans whether this particular example is a cut and patse job.)

As someone who is highly protective of his property, be it intellectual or otherwise, I do think Rowling has a point. I just don’t think it’s a very good one in this particular case. I suppose, ultimately, it comes down to how much of the book is Vander Ark’s own work. If Rowling’s claims are correct, then I’m with her 100%. If not…

Any additional thoughts on this?

For most of my forty-one years, I’ve been traveling the roads of the north-east of England (occasionally, when I could be bothered) — a little like The Littlest Hobo, only much cuter and with a warm bed waiting for me at the end of each day. And during my travels I’ve often seen the familiar deer warning sign…

… but I’ve never actually seen a deer hereabouts.

Until today.

Unfortunately, it was dead in ditch, the car that had just hit it pulled over at the side of the road beside it.

In the immortal words of Granddad from Only Fools and Horses (more or less, because I’m unsure of the exact quote), “There’s a moral to this story, Del-boy, but for the life of me I can’t think what it is.”

I’ve never really been all that much of a poetry fan. It seemed superfluous when, in my teens, I had the latest Marc and the Mambas L.P. to listen to (”What you earn / Heaven knows / It goes straight up your nose…”). Prose was my thing, and I just didn’t see the necessity for it.

One poem, at least, did get through, though – and I was reminded of it today when, the novel taking a (very slight) detour, I had to grab a name for a very beautiful Welsh girl out of thin air. Myfanwy, I thought, and the John Betjeman poem came flooding back…

Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy,
White o’er the playpen the sheen of her dress,
Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery
Soap scented fingers I long to caress.

Were you a prefect and head of your dormit’ry?
Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym?
Who was your favourite? Who had a crush on you?
Which were the baths where they taught you to swim?

Smooth down the Avenue glitters the bicycle,
Black-stockinged legs under navy blue serge,
Home and Colonial, Star, International,
Balancing bicycle leant on the verge.

Trace me your wheel-tracks, you fortunate bicycle,
Out of the shopping and into the dark,
Back down the avenue, back to the pottingshed,
Back to the house on the fringe of the park.

Golden the light on the locks of Myfanwy,
Golden the light on the book on her knee,
Finger marked pages of Rackham’s Hans Anderson,
Time for the children to come down to tea.

Oh! Fullers angel-cake, Robertson’s marmalade,
Liberty lampshade, come shine on us all,
My! what a spread for the friends of Myfanwy,
Some in the alcove and some in the hall.

Then what sardines in half-lighted passages!
Locking of fingers in long hide-and-seek.
You will protect me, my silken Myfanwy,
Ring leader, tom-boy, and chum to the weak.