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.
Today saw me:
- Hitting the 55,000 word mark with Children of the Resolution. Chapter Nine of seventeen (plus prologue and epilogue) is almost complete and I’m generally happy with the way in which the tone is darkening as Carl grows older. The latest Marisa and Carl scene may need trimming, but that apart, all is pretty much as it should be at this point.
- Taking a well-earned trip to Whitby. A glorious spring/almost summer day and, predictably, the crowds were out. I came to the conclusion that Whitby isn’t the Whitby I love when it’s all sunny and crowded. A fine drizzle and a winter wind. That’s what Whitby requires to properly work for me.
- Wondering if I can write a truly disturbing literary novel about the UFO/alien abduction “phenomenon”.
- Jiggling over the bumps to Grinkle Park.
- Eating pizza.
- Looking forward to putting my brain in neutral and watching The Bionic Woman (it fits quite nicely with Kurzweil’s The Singularity is Near — in fact, Kurzweil is far more “out there”.)
Five whole working days without a single word more of Children of the Resolution written. It doesn’t sound a lot, but it sure as hell feels it. I don’t care what anyone says to the contrary, coughing fits and copious amounts of snot do not go well with the noble and snotless craft of novel-writing. One flow breaks the other, so to speak, and the rhythm of my writing is one its strengths — so I’ve made myself sit it out until I’m 100% fit.
And I’m getting there. It’s been a stinker, though — not helped by the fact that I haven’t even been able to read much. My eyes have been so watery and sensitive that any attempt resulted in predictable failure.
Not that I’m moaning or anything 🙂 It’s been four years since my last bout of cold/flu, so I’ve nothing to complain about — and last night I did at least finally get round to watching The Bionic Woman, the new version, which may be axed if ratings Stateside are anything to go by.
I wasn’t expecting much. I remember watching the pilot of the original as a kid, and whilst that version may not exactly stand up today, I nevertheless thought it would be hard to beat. The original was colourful, dynamic and American — the new version dark, brooding and with a former Eastenders actress in the lead role. It didn’t bode well.
But I loved it. Dark, yes. Brooding, yes. And the new Jamie? Whose name escapes me. [EDIT: Michelle Ryan.] Yes. All three worked perfectly. There was no real sense that it was being aimed at a twentysomething audience, as I suspected it might be, and overall it was very satisfying. Okay, so the plotting was a bit thin and predictable, but I could overlook that.
And watching Jamie doing her bionic stuff, I couldn’t help feeling that I wouldn’t mind having a woman like that around the house, myself. Ever so handy when you can’t get the lid off a jar.