It’s official. I’m writing again. After a rather prolonged fluey-type thing (not quite the flu, but more than a lily-livered cold), I’ve finally managed to get back into my much-needed work routine. I’ve resigned myself to the knowledge that I probably won’t hit 60,000 words by the end of the month, as I’d planned, and took a great deal of pleasure from the realisation that in spite of the enforced break I had today broken the 50,000 word mark. It would be crazy of me not to be chuffed with that — especially when I’m so happy with the whole tone and feel of the novel.
The last few days have been rather blog-less, as you may have noticed. There’s been plenty in the news to get all indignant about (I daren’t even think the word “embryo”, for fear of venting my spleen in the idiotic Cardinal O’Brien’s direction and suffering a self-induced, post-illness apoplexy!), but my energy levels aren’t quite where they need to be, just yet, so I’m behaving myself.
What does such an alien concept entail? Well, largely finishing Isaac Asimov’s The End of Eternity and beginning Ray Kurzweil’s The Singularity Is Near. The former is my first real attempt at reading “proper” science fiction in a long while, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Asimov’s understanding of the moral/ethical questions behind his “science” was astounding. Plus it’s a bloody good love story.
As for The Singularity Is Near… I’ve just started it, but it promises to be every bit as thought-provoking as the lectures of Kurzweil’s that I’ve so enjoyed.
If I’m quiet, you know why.