I'm re-reading my first novel -- the one that has the agent, you know the one -- doing some edits and I just got to a point where there was this big exciting dramatic moment, the kind where if it was a movie the music would come up really loud and everyone would start running.... and I got a chill down my back. Wow.

It's nice to read it and find so much I like.

Must! Have! THIS!

If a Sigmund the Seamonster were to come out next year... heaven.

The last time I finished the first draft a novel was, oh... 2 years and 4 days ago.

I'm happy to say, I did it again. After nine months, Beta Test came to a halt today with about 78,500 words. It needs some cuts and some addition, it's far from final. Still, I got to type "THE END" (in all caps, dammit) and that counts for something.

Were it not for the Internet, I would think every living creature on Earth except me and two of my dogs was either dead or wiped from existence.

And I'm not actually sure about the Internet either. Email traffic has been almost nil. Not even spammers are sending me anything today. I signed on to IMs at one point this morning and saw only one person online... and I'm pretty sure she left her IMs on all night long.

Which is all good I guess, as I need solitude and no excuses to get any writing done as I close in on the end, the inevitable end. I've been waxing as many cats as possible -- I even watched Night at the Museum -- because I'm afraid my story's so-called end doesn't work. I fear the entire action-packed adventure I've written comes to a screeching halt due to a wall made of boredom and I'm not at all sure what to do about it. Except to plunge on and hope that one of the characters does something to change all that.

It's no secret that Jumper is one of my favorite books of all time. And I know the author now, dammit! So of course I was at the opening nigh of Jumper the movie, along with a nice crowd of folks that ran the gamut of old to young. I was very surprised at the number of younger teenage girls -- definitely not the kind you'd look at and think "there's a fan of sci fi!" They were no doubt there for Hayden Christensen.

I liked it, didn't love it, but certainly didn't hate it -- no like some of the reviews I've read this morning. In fact, I found the film a little short... the ending didn't seem like it was actually finished. Which is Hollywood's way of saying "Franchise me! Franchise me!" And it could certainly work as a franchise, even moving to TV since the effect would be simple (assuming there's no "jump-scars"), but then TV shows like their simple sets without much location shooting, let alone locations around the world.

It's not the book, that's for sure. Steve Gould's attitude about his book vs. this movie is about the healthiest I've ever seen (that's his shirt to the right). Alan Moore could take a lesson, and that's not something I think anyone says about Alan Moore very often. Steve, after all, wrote the book, not the movie. Like he says, movie studios don't give control of hundred-million dollar projects to people without a track record, he had no control. And those who call an author a sell-out? Dude, you wish you could sell out for Hollywood money and quit your job, too.

The film stops emulating the book after the first 15 minutes. That's expected, as translating a book that involves early 1990's terrorist fighting with super-powers to today's kind of uber-terrorism was going to create a major change by itself. But the terrorism angle is ditched entirely. The director wanted something even more divergent, with major new characters, including an unrepentant bad guy (Samuel L. Jackson). I assumed by the end his character would "see the light" and decide the main character Davey (sorry, David) was an okay sort and he'd let him go. Just cause he's Sam Jackson, you know? We want to like Sam Jackson. I was happy to see that wasn't the case. He didn't win, but he wasn't giving up, either. That also helps setup the flick for a sequel, natch.

The other new character, Griffin, a second jumper, is sooo much more interesting and compelling and funny and likable -- for a homicidal revenge freak -- than protagonist jumper Davey (sorry, David). It's not because of how Davey (uh, David) was written. It was because Jamie "Billy Elliot" Bell as Griffin had fun, and Darth Christensen, as usual, did not. Not even in the scenes where jumping is shown as a joyful, wonderful superpower does Darth look happy; it's just not in him. One review has called Darth "half-man/half-tree." My wife called his performance "wooden" (and not in the good way). As in just about every film he does, he is the weak-link. This is no exception. (Shattered Glass and Life as a House were both flukes, as the whiny characters he played were probably so close to his real personality that there was no actual "acting" involved, just memorizing lines.)

Now I read he'll have the opportunity to drag down an adaptation of William Gibson's Neuromancer. He is truly the new Keanu, but without the street cred from Bill & Ted, Speed, and the first Matrix. Yet, Darth has a track-record of successful movies, so what do I know? Hopefully his streak will continue so Jumper can live on for a couple more sequels.

Though I personally hope Steve's writing another sequel to the original novel. That would rock.

It's not just a bad Dane Cook movie! It's me!

Whenever we have an all-staff meeting at PC Magazine, the boss gives out what he calls the "Maggie," an award for an employee go goes above and beyond the call, etc. Last time he did this, he started talking about the person cryptically and I actually spent a few seconds talking myself into believing I was going to get it. I didn't. But today, even though he was describing articles I've written (I contribute a lot of features that have big numbers in them, like 156 free software titles or 72 security tips), I still didn't think it was me. Then he said my name.

I scrambled to take my phone off of mute so I could say thanks...and I  hang up on the meeting. The glory of telecommuting, right there, in a nutshell.

Still, I called back, made my thanks, got a laugh out of my technical incompetence (just the thing you look for an editor at a computer magazine) and now, I await a digital photograph of my award. 

Not me. I never stopped.

But the strike is over, so WGA writer's can stop picketing. Still, I'd like to thank the WGA for having a contract that brought a strike when it did... the timing could not have been better for me. But sorry to all those who were out of work and the loss of billions of dollars and stuff. Ya know.

Last night I did cross the picket line myself for the first time and watched A Daily Show and The Colbert Report. Not sure how they can say those shows weren't written... it's not like they weren't reading something off a prompter. Did Stewart write it all himself? Fine, he had a contract to fulfill or might have faced worse than some WGA censure, but still...how is that not crossing a the picket line unless he quit the WGA? I dunno. 

My friend Kim just finished the first draft of her second novel (which I've been reading, and I love it, and not just cause of the adolescent angst and pirates. Finishing a novel, as she says, is "a relief; at the same time, it's a quiet victory.  No roaring crowds, no finish line, no ticker tape parade, no victory dance." All true. I went through it when I finished my first draft of my first novel in February 2006 (holy crap! Two years ago as of Thursday!)

That said, I hope to join her soon... I've been cranking pretty well on Beta Test, got a nice idea for something in the shower just this morning in fact... and come hell or short-pants, I hope to have the first draft of it done by the end of this month.... and I damn well expect a parade since I'm giving you early notice.

(I will settle for cake.)

Then, revision time. Cause no novel is ever really done.

Got this from Pam...a startling insight into people based upon their music collections.


Instructions: Open up your iTunes and fill out this survey, no matter how embarrassing the responses might be.

How many songs total: 6,678
How many hours or days of music: 17.3 days (I also have 16.5 days worth of audiobooks)

Most recently played: "Doctor Who Theme (2008 version)," Murray Gold
Most played: "Anyone Else But You," The Moldy Peaches on the "Juno" Soundtrack (Hard to take this too seriously, as I reset everything in iTunes a couple months ago... but I am strangely addicted to that song)
Most recently added: "On Broadway," Lou Rawls version

Sort by song title:
First Song: Theme from "The A-Team"
Last Song: "911 Emergency/I Have So Many Songs" from the Broadway Cast Recording of "A New Brain"

Sort by time:
Shortest Song: "Ha Ha," Nelson Muntz of "The Simpsons", 00:01
Longest Song: "Born to Be Wild," Steppenwolf on the "Easy Rider" soundtrack, 25:47

Sort by album:
First album: Abbey Road, The Beatles
Last album: 52nd Street, Billy Joel

First song that comes up on Shuffle: "Fair" Ben Folds

Search the following and state how many songs come up:
Death - 19
Life - 66
Love - 324
Hate - 28
You - 678
Sex - 11

Do not go to store, buy a $4 half gallon of milk, and leave it out on the kitchen table all night. That's a no-no.

Of course, my wife found it this morning and poured it out.

Had I found it, I would no doubt have put it in the fridge and given it a day to see if it got chunky. If not...

I'm such a chance taker.

The only true way to safely compute is to unplug it from all sources, never stick in a CD, never install software, and basically use it like a typewriter.

However, you can be safe if you put in the hard, arduous work that's required. And to prove it, I wrote out a whole bunch of ways to make sure your computer(s) and you stay safe. It's called, 72 Tips for Safer Computing.

Later today, I'm going to be interviewed on CNN Radio's Computer Connection about it, which is part of Westwood One, so I have no idea when it'll air or if anyone could hear it, but I'll try to find out. I do, after all, have just the right kind of face for radio.

You watch Lost, right? If not, get lost.

We now know that eventually Jack, Kate, and Hurley get off the island. So do three other people. Who they are, we don't know yet.

Except, I am certain of the identity of at least one Oceanic Six member: It's Christian Shephard, Jack's drunken and "dead" surgeon dad! (He is also Claire's dad.)

Evidence: He was in the rocking chair in Jacob's cabin when Hurley looked in the window:



Jack saw him on the beach in first season (everyone thought it was just a hallucination) but also  found his dad's casket: empty.

Check out this "mobisode." Who imagined that, the dog?

Remember in the first flash-forward last season? Jack, drunk, tells the
another doc, "Go up and get my dad out of his office, and see if he's
drunker than me!" (Paraphrase)

Jack's dad is alive, and he's coming home with Jack, Hugo, and Kate. I'm calling it right now.