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May 29, 2003
Write a novel, he says, maybe sci-fi. I'm speechless at the thought of it. Yes, I like to write; yes, I scribble entertaining commentary on Life and other absurdities, but no, not a novel, I don't even have any ideas. The result would probably be a Bridget Jones' Diary meets Farscape/Babylon 5, except in my story the Hero isn't a 6' male with broad shoulders and a gleaming smile, but a petite redhead with brains to spare and a spine of stainless steel. Which makes it Heinlein without Lazarus Long. See? Nothing of interest here folks, move along, move along.