If you haven't read Sarah Hoyt yet, here's your chance.  electronic Advnanced reader Copy of Sarah's new space opera "Darkship Thieves" is now available from Baen Books and Webscriptions. 

Here's a review of the wild roller coaster ride that is DST!

From the review...

"I'm not picky, I like all kinds: Space Opera, Hard Science, Science Fantasy, Alternate History,
Action, Thriller.

OK, I AM picky.  It has to be GOOD Science Fiction.  I want likeable characters, an interesting
plot, and believable science (with allowances for the classic dictum that any sufficiently
advanced science could well be indistinguishable from magic).

( Read more... )

OK, so I'm about to turn 50. 

That's sort of like saying I'm going to turn the corner while driving.

I can remember when 50 seemed ancient.

I can remember when 50 seemed *old*.

I can remember when 50 seemed way too close.

I can remember when I was 49 (today) vs. 50 (tomorrow).

OK, so you know what?  In the words of Garfield: "Big fat hairy deal!"

I don't *feel* 50.  Some people tell me I don't *look* 50.  The "Real Age" quiz tells me my Real Age is 40.  What I feel is...

Amazed.  Amazed that 50 is here already.  Amazed that I don't feel any different.  Amazed that it doesn't really matter.

50.

Bring it on.

I'm back to (mostly) real food.  It's still liquid, but I can know drink coffee (decaf), eat yogurt, sugar free jello and pudding and protein drinks.

Two weeks of this and on to solids.

Yum.

It's not so bad, though - the stomach is only now starting to feel hungry.  I watched a bunch of food network shows last week without ever feeling a twinge.

Strange, I know.

I guess its a good sign.

Now as long as the willpower holds up and I don't switch to the wrong foods.

I'm doing fine.  Lot's of abdominal pressure, some discomfort, not much pain.  I'm on clear liquids only for 4-5 days, then a total liquid diet for 2.5 weeks.
Looking forward to new adventures in (not) eating and a lighter, healthier me.

On the Twelfth Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…twelve lead EKG,

eleven hospital forms to sign,

ten cups of water a day,

nine CBC blood measurements,

eight ounces of protein drink,

seven days without caffeine,

six ounces of green jello,

five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

 
Th...th...th...that's all folks!  See you on the flip side!

 

On the Eleventh Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…eleven hospital forms to sign,

ten cups of water a day,

nine CBC blood measurements,

eight ounces of protein drink,

seven days without caffeine,

six ounces of green jello,

five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

On the Tenth Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…ten cups of water a day,

nine CBC blood measurements,

eight ounces of protein drink,

seven days without caffeine,

six ounces of green jello,

five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

On the Ninth Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…nine CBC blood measurements,

eight ounces of protein drink,

seven days without caffeine,

six ounces of green jello,

five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

 

On the Eighth Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…eight ounces of protein drink,

seven days without caffeine,

six ounces of green jello,

five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

On the Seventh Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…seven days without caffeine,

six ounces of green jello,

five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

 

On the Sixth Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…six ounces of green jello,

five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

 

On the Fifth Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…five laparoscopic incisions,

four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

 

On the Fourth Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…four hours of pre-op appointments,

three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

On the Third Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…three weeks of liquid diet,

two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

On the Second Day of Lap-Band, my surgeon gave to me…

…two psych evaluations,

And a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

Some of you know that I am planning to have surgery in just over a week.  I have been on a semi-liquid diet since Dec. 30th in anticipation of Lap-Band placement surgery on the 20th.

A colleague asked me about my plans today, and I mentioned that it was 12 days until the surgery.  One of my technicians was in earshot and made a comment about "12 days of Christmas"...

... well, my eyes glazed over, the gears started spinning, and the result is...

The 12 Days of Lap-Band.

On the First Day of Lap-Band, my Surgeon Gave to Me...

... a shaker bottle for protein drink mix.

 

(to be continued)

Happy New Year to all my friends and family!

I know this is a pretty infrequent blog anyway, but things are even busier than normal.

To top it off, liquid diet started yesterday, lap band surgery is on the 20th.

I probably won't be around much for a while.

But it is *definitely* a new year and new outlook!

As I stated earlier, I have committed to be a writing buddy for a friend during NaNoWriMo.

In getting story ideas settled in my head, I've been thinking about first lines.  No, not pickup lines.  I've never been good at that, just ask my wife.

We all know the infamous "It was a dark and Stormy night..." but you've got to admit that "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" really sticks with you.

Some lines I've toyed with:

" 'Mom! My teacher is an *alien*!' "

"The twenty-first century didn't start out the way we'd planned."

"There's never a good time for hallucinations, but driving to work on Southern California highways had to be the worst."

" ' How the *hell* did she get pregnant in hibernation?' "

"The world is a dangerous place."

I think I've settled on this one for my upcoming story:

"It was an ordinary working laboratory, black and white under harsh fluorescent lights with hospital-white walls, black and white tile floors, gray metal cabinets, black plastic shelves and  countertops.  In a movie, such a lab would be filled with glowing green slime overflowing beakers suspended above orange flames.  Blue, red and yellow liquids would bubble, foam and drip through coils of clear glass tubing stretching from floor to ceiling and back again.  On TV, the lab would be filled with computers and electronics: flashing lights, spinning tapes and purposeful clicking, beeping and humming.   This, however, was an ordinary lab, and what it was mostly filled with... was paper. Textbooks and reference works lined the shelves, notebooks were stacked on the desk, and every horizontal surface was covered with mail, articles photocopied from scientific magazines, interdepartmental memos, experimental data graphs, and scraps of paper covered in blue, black and red ink."

---

On another topic, here is a collection of vignettes that I'd like to include in stories some day...

·         Driving in Scotland and seeing the farms cover the steep hillsides almost gives you a sense of vertigo – that the  land is flat and *you* are suspended above it.   

·         Water taxis from the Venice airport out to the island that travel through marked lanes almost like a highway on water

·         Waiting with a crowd of Italian locals for a commuter train in Salerno.  The garbage strike was on, and the railway was disrupted in sympathy.  We were actually on the train stuck in the station for two hours.  The rail carriage was hot, full, noisy, restless kids, crying babies, etc. and my traveling companion and I spoke *very* little Italian.  We managed, though.

·         Trying to find the street exits from a railway station in Tokyo.  I told my wife to stay put and I would check several possibilities, then turned back to see her: tall, blond, female, standing out from the crowd.

·         Austrian ski slopes turned into downhill mountain biking trails in the summer.

·         A lone baritone singing in an archway of the imperial palace in Vienna.

·         Standing in the middle of a stone circle (*not* Stonehenge) in SW England and looking down the standing-stone lined “avenue” to the river.

·         Hiking to the Villa Jovis (Emperor Tiberius’ palace) on Capri.

·         Talkative cab drivers in New Orleans, D.C., Sorrento, Naples, London – and may others – even in spite of language differences.

With incredible thanks to sarahahoyt  and the mad_genius_club , I am continuing my education on how to write fiction.  In particular, Science Fiction (with a capital SF!).  Sarah recommended a book in her blog, as well as in an email conversation, that I had bought but never read.  "Techniques of the Selling Writer" by Dwight Swain.  After the email conversation, I figured I'd better start reading, and I have, especially since I have committed to be a writing buddy for a friend on NaNoWriMo, and since I have this incredible story [no, SERIES!] idea cluttering up my head right now.  

I'm about a third of the way through the book, and several things are beginning to make sense to me now.  In particular, as my wife and I watched a couple of favorite TV shows this weekend, I began to see how the techniques that Swain writes about were used in the episode scripts.  In addition, since I never seem to read only one book at a time, simultaneous with reading TotSW, I've read Julie Cochrane and John Ringo's "Honor of the Clan", Lois McMaster Bujold's "Diplomatic Immunity" and Dean Koontz' "The Good Guy".

I am learning to see the patterns and technique, and no, it doesn't lessen the enjoyment.  I now have a greater appreciation for a story that grabs your attention and never lets go until you finish it at 2:30 AM (*knowing* you have to get up at  6:45!). 

I've decided it's like magic.  You know, the stage kind.  I'm an amateur magician.  I've collected all sorts of magic tricks and gimmicks and can do dozens of different tricks depending on my audience.  Still, I have my favorites mainly because I have specifically learned to read the audience and keep them involved.  Now I'm just learning a new trick!

On the other hand, my wife is getting tired of me saying "Oh, so *that's* why they did it that way!"

So, over the weekend, I had email conversations with two of my favorite writers, and surprisingly or not, in both conversations we ended up discussing our respective experience with absolutely brilliant youth (children, friends, students, etc.) and the failings of our educational systems to fulfill their needs.

Face it, most of you reading this are of above average intelligence (Lake Woebegon, anyone?) and I'll bet you could tell some stories about how the system failed you - that being the case, how much more so does it fail the prodigies among us.  Sure we've heard of 14 y.o. opera singers and the 12 y.o. MIT graduates, but they're extremely rare, right?  Well, maybe not so rare - it's just the one-in-a-million get the opportunity.

For today, however, my question is - what do prodigies do next?

For every Einstein that succeeds after nearly failing high school and college, there must be several that actually *do* fail high school and college.  Then what?  Can we as a society (or better yet, a *secret* society) identify prodigies at a young enough age that we can keep them from being beaten down by a system designed to reward mediocrity?  If so, then perhaps we can educate them at *their* speed, not ours.  We could privately tutor children in grade school and high school subjects.  Create a special category of online and correspondence university classes to allow these students to complete college courses while still in the company of  their fellow prodigies and not face the awkward issues of the (young) teenager at college.

But what then?  Concert tours and gallery openings at 14?  Jobs in industry at age 16?  Start them in medical practice at 18?  Keep them isolated in a think-tank atmosphere and tap their knowledge like a supercomputer?

I'm not looking for any answers, just posing a rhetorical question since I don't blog often.  Feel free to comment - or not.