“So a roboticist and a sex toy manufacturer walks into a bar…”

I’m a writer.

Duh.

But I don’t just write nonfictional, cynically sarcastic analysis of US politics and sociotechnological developments. Actually, my first love’s always been science fiction- mostly because, at times, it seems as if the field of science fiction is the last honest endeavor in which a writer may be “allowed” to analyze, predict and philosophize about the nature and oddities of the human species.

That, and I love lasers and spaceships and aliens. No matter how old I get, there’ll be a fifteen year old in me that just finished reading Pournelle and Niven’s “The Moat in God’s Eye” and had his mind thoroughly and permanently blown. Then he read Pratchett’s “Night Watch” and got it blown witless again. Then Gaiman’s “American Gods.” Then… then… you get the drift.

Books are cool. If our educational system was actually interested in getting people to read- and learn- they’d bother to make a narrative arch out of their English lessons. Don’t just feed kids what the administrators in their infinite wisdom and objectivity hold to be mandatory, foundational material of western literate culture- teach kids to love books first.  Toss Pratchett at them. Hell, toss Warren Ellis, as nothing sells the English language quite like deviant sex, violence, and a lesson in the personal necessity of tolerance all in one package. Teach them the joys of reading, then teach them the flavors and nuances- even a baby loves a sugar pop, but it takes cultivation to get them to appreciate foie gras. Which, I remind you, is liver.

Whoa, got seriously off-track.

Anyhow, I’m writing a book. It’ll be something like the tenth time I’ve attempted a fiction novel, and all nine prior attempts have crashed and burned for one reason or another. But this one? I can’t even describe the sudden resonance that struck me when its subject matter occurred to me- okay, that’s a lie. I can. It was like somebody cocked the hammer back of a metaphorical gun and pulled the trigger. Writers have very few “Ah-HAH!” moments in their lives, and most of us waste it by becoming accountants or olympic athletes or something instead.

I’ll never get a publisher to pick this up. No way. Target audience is too damn small. But the concept of it- that artificial intelligence is an inevitability, that geek culture as it is now has a fundamental flaw, that the very concept of moè, combined with the above, can spell only tragedy…

I’m literally salivating at the thought of writing this thing. Even if I won’t see a cent from this, this will be my masterpiece.

So Thoughtscream undergoes a very minor revision. Originally, it was just going to be a depository of my thoughts and reactions to world news- a way to regularly get content out that future employers can examine to their liking. I’m even planning to sign up with PayPerPost soon as this blog’s thirty days old, so as to generate some cash to make up for the time invested (and because, frankly, having quit my job to pursue my internship, I’m fucking broke). But now, it includes one extra feature that I didn’t initially mean to include: to document the gestation and hopeful birth of my as yet untitled novel.

For now, let’s call it the Cold Embrace.

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~ by Gonzo Mehum on January 23, 2009.

5 Responses to ““So a roboticist and a sex toy manufacturer walks into a bar…””

  1. Damn. So looking forward to this…

    One favour though, everytime you feel that hammer cocked back of that metaphorical gun, and the trigger gets pulled – yell “TRACE ON” for me?

    Sadly the first thought that went through my head when I read that line.

  2. Ah, cocked back hammer*

  3. Damn, I knew I was quoting something with that one, but I forgot where it was from. Freaking Type-Moon influence.

    And, dammit, don’t tempt me. “I am the bone of my keyboard?”

  4. “I am the bone of my keyboard
    Sentence structure is my body, and words are my blood.
    I have created over a thousand chapters.
    Unknown to hand cramps
    Nor known to writer’s block
    Have withstood hours of editing to create the perfect story
    Yet, these hands have never written anything published…
    So, as I type
    UNLIMITED WRITE WORKS”

    … Scares me how easily I can think up UBW parodies.

  5. I AM THE ____ OF MY ____
    ___ IS MY BODY AND ____ ARE MY BLOOD
    I HAVE CREATED OVER A _(numerical)_ ____
    UNKNOWN TO _(negative condition)_
    NOR KNOWN TO _(positive/negative condition)_
    HAVE WITHSTOOD ____ TO CREATE _____
    YET THESE HANDS _____ (or) WAITING FOR _____’S ARRIVAL
    SO, AS I _(action)_
    UNLIMITED ____ WORKS

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