Filed under: Ballistics, Book Conservation, Guns, Marketing, Politics, Predictions, Promotion, Publishing, Science Fiction, Writing stuff
By the numbers: this is the 700th post for this blog. We’ve had over 42,000 visitors, and almost 1000 comments. I have no idea how many people get a feed of the thing.
In the last 5 weeks, another 1,300 people have downloaded the novel, bringing the total to 15,500. I really need to figure out a way to sell copies of the damned thing, since interest continues to chug along.
Part of the bump up in downloads last month was no doubt due to the BBTI project. That has now had over 935,000 hits since the initial launch last Thanksgiving, and is up 165,000 since the ‘relaunch’ just three weeks ago. Wow – it seems like it has been longer than that. But then, I’ve been busy.
And I am going to be busier still – got started on the next round of books for a big institutional client yesterday. And I figure I have about 160 billable hours to do in the next three weeks or so. So forgive me if posting a bit sporadic for a little while.
Cheers!
Jim Downey
Filed under: Art, Book Conservation, General Musings, Publishing, Writing stuff
As I mentioned the other day in the preface to this post, I had reason to be digging around in some of my old writings. I’m still not in a position to disclose the full reason for this, but I can discuss it in general terms: I had been interviewed for a feature article for a national magazine (I am not the focus of the piece, just one aspect of it), and something I had written previously was pertinent to the background I had provided the interviewer.
Anyway, it was a thorough and rather draining interview, not unlike some of the others to which I have been party in my somewhat offbeat course through life. Nor, in fact, to some of the interviews I have conducted, when I was writing my column for the local paper. So it was that I recognized this insightful passage from a recent item at the Economist:
Mr Rauch: This ties back to your last question, in a way. I suspect a lot of bloggers may be introverts, because blogging is great if you like to sit in front of the internet all day. If not for my aversion to specialising in one subject, I probably would have been an academic historian, because I think it would have suited me to work in libraries back before there was an internet. (In a way, the internet is a library that talks back.) Reporting doesn’t come naturally to me, since I have to screw up my energy level every time I pick up the phone. So that’s something of a handicap. I’ll never be a natural journalist.
On the other hand, introverts are good questioners and attentive listeners. After a thoughtful, probing interview that I feel has touched marrow, I feel exhilaration, along with exhaustion. As if a tough hike had been rewarded with a new vista. I’m not a great hiker but I do enjoy the views.
Very apt metaphor.
Jim Downey
(Economist link via Sully.)
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Art, Ballistics, Book Conservation, Politics, Preparedness, SCA, Science Fiction, Society, Writing stuff
There are other things I should be writing. Revisions for the BBTI site upgrade, work on the Caregiving book. Even (laughably) my own fiction.
But I’m in a bit of a reflective mood. And something I heard the other day has been churning around in my head. It’s this:
The person who experiences greatness must have a feeling for the myth he is in. He must reflect what is projected upon him. And he must have a strong sense of the sardonic. This is what uncouples him from belief in his own pretensions. The sardonic is all that permits him to move within himself. Without this quality, even occasional greatness will destroy a man.
Recognize it? That’s from Dune. I’ve been listening to the recent audio version of the book as I’ve been doing conservation work. I usually only listen to books I know well, because for the most part I need to maintain my concentration on the work at hand. But having a favorite book rolling along in the background is a help, allows me to get technical things done while engaging part of my creative mind, eases the hours to pass. Anyway, I was at a pause between tasks, and that quote came up (it’s actually a quote in the book, and referenced as such at a chapter heading, as a way to explain something about the main character.)
If Frank Herbert hadn’t read The Hero with a Thousand Faces, he should have. That’s very much an insight of which Campbell would be proud. But then, I have long recommended Dune to any and all who would want a good primer on personal politics disguised as a SF story. Herbert’s understanding of myth was considerable.
Anyway, the passage caught my attention. And I spent the next little while musing on it, and how I had understood it and incorporated it into my way in the world when I was very young.
No, I am not saying that I am “great”. But I have been touched by myth, and had momentary brushes with greatness. Recognizing those moments, and understanding the role I played within them, made the experience all the more enjoyable – and less risky than if I fell into the trap of believing my own press releases.
See, there’s that sardonic touch – the wry, self-deprecating cynicism that disarms critics and endears friends. And it is not an artifice. It is who I really am – some deeply seated self-defense mechanism which has allowed me to play with greatness but not to be captivated by it. Nonetheless, I am conscious of it – aware of how the sardonic wit gives me latitude and a certain insulation from praise or popularity. Because of it, I have known when to walk away from lusting after greatness, how to shut my ears to the siren’s call which has destroyed others.
The one thing I worry about – well, ‘the one thing I wonder about’ is perhaps a better way of phrasing it – is whether this ability to walk away means that I have never risked enough to actually *be* great, and so have missed opportunity. Oh, I have come up to the line many times. And crossed lines which most people would not have had the nerve to cross. I have risked life and limb, reputation and financial security (and sometimes lost those bets). But there have also been times when I walked away.
Was this prudence, or was it fear?
Hard to say.
Jim Downey
* Full quote here. The first sentence of which is what I used as the motto for my Paint the Moon project, one of my more creative brushes with greatness.
Filed under: Artificial Intelligence, Connections, General Musings, Science Fiction, tech, Writing stuff
…which I haven’t heard of previously, but it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if it has already been the basis of an SF short or novel: what if the source of some giant computer/internet worm (say, Conficker or similar) was just someone’s effort to create an actual AI? Alternatively, what if some embryonic AI which already exists was creating these things in order to increase its own level of ability/sentience? The latter is somewhat similar to what I did with Seth in Communion of Dreams, through I used an entirely different mechanism.
Anyway, just an idea. I get these things all the time, and just happened to be sitting in front of the computer when I did so this time.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Artificial Intelligence, Expert systems, Liane Hansen, NPR, Predictions, Science, Science Fiction, tech, Writing stuff, YouTube
[This post contains mild spoilers about Communion of Dreams.]
One of the main characters from my novel is Seth – an advanced expert system who functions as the personal assistant for the primary character. I’ve written about him here before, and how I see this sort of “expert” developing over time. My basic premise is that it will evolve out of simpler, independent computer programs which are brought together to create an easier and more comprehensive user interface.
Well, via this morning’s Weekend Edition, Microsoft has just come out with the first real step in this process:
Microsoft’s Laura will rule your Outlook calendar, nightmares
Back in Office 97, Microsoft wowed us with Clippy, the talking paperclip that made Word tasks far more annoying than necessary. By Office 2007 he was finally out of a job, but his spirit lives on in Laura, an oddly creepy virtual digital assistant shown off as part of Microsoft’s vision for the future (video of an earlier demo is below). She’s said to be able to schedule reservations, make appointments, and maybe even get you tickets for the first Watchmen showing tonight — much the same as the company’s EVA assistant, but not in a car and not as hot. She can judge you based on what type of clothing you’re wearing and even tell if you’re engaged in a conversation, perhaps keeping the doors on an elevator open while you chat with someone getting off, thus further annoying every other person on board.
Here’s the vid:
OK, about the title – what the hell is that supposed to mean? Well, in the book I explain. So go read the book.
Yeah, yeah, here’s the summation: Seth is an “S-series” expert, the latest iteration of such an artificial personal assistant, based on the most advanced type of computer. Chances are, there is some skipping around during the periods of chaos that I stipulate for my future history, and one can never account for advertising hype, but the basic idea is that the experts were named on the basis of the alphabet. Hence, he is the 19th generation of such a development. Now, being the first such artificial personal assistant, Laura should actually be named Anne or something that starts with an “A”. But Microsoft didn’t bother to ask me about it beforehand. Figures.
Jim Downey
Late this afternoon as I was getting some work done, I heard an email ding in to my personal account. I came in here and checked to see what had arrived.
It was a note from our accountant, with a question concerning our taxes for last year. Specifically, it was about why I had only recorded a certain amount of financial information for my business up to a certain point in the year, but not any of a lot of other necessary & pertinent information. As soon as I saw it, I felt like an idiot. And I told the accountant that I would put together the rest of the information tomorrow morning.
Now, this sort of thing is no big deal. A lot of people are not particularly good about keeping records. Even competent business people can be rather slack about such matters, and I’m not talking about just AIG executives.
But I’m actually pretty good about such things. For years I ran an art gallery, after all, which meant monthly payments to dozens of artists for individual artworks, on top of the usual payroll & sales taxes & quarterly IRS deposits & utilities & ordering materials & invoices & et cetera. (“& et cetera”? Isn’t that redundant?)
Now, something else. This morning I spent a chunk of time working on the Caregiving book, specifically on the posts I’ve made over the last year about recovering from the experience. I uploaded some 27 posts, over 15,000 words, that fit in the period from when Martha Sr died to the beginning of last month (for the section “His First Year”) to our operating document. And one thing that struck me was just how, well, insane I was most of last year.
OK, not really “insane”. Just say “disassociated from reality”. Or “operating on three cylinders”. Or “a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic”.
I could focus and function for periods of time. And those periods of time got longer as the year went on. I wasn’t putting books upside down in their covers, or feeding carrots to the dog or anything. But things that weren’t really important? Insane. Unfocused. Not a lot – just a little bit. For the most part this was small stuff, unimportant stuff. You can see it in my posts – sometimes I was even aware of it. Looking back, I can easily see it, and it feels almost like thinking about a dream when you’ve woken up and are just lying there in bed, waiting to get up.
And that’s OK. I often think we put too much store by sanity, spend too little time dreaming.
But still, I need to gather that financial data for the accountant.
Because last year? Oh, I was insane.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Astronomy, NASA, Predictions, Science, Space, Titan, Writing stuff
Well, the Advanced Survey Array from Communion of Dreams just got another step closer, and here’s a bit of insight into how I came up with much of the whole idea for the novel:
Telescope blasts into space to find other Earths
CAPE CANAVERAL, Fla. – NASA’s planet-hunting telescope, Kepler, rocketed into space Friday night on a historic voyage to track down other Earths in a faraway patch of the Milky Way galaxy.
It’s the first mission capable of answering the age-old question: Are other worlds like ours out there?
Kepler, named after the German 17th century astrophysicist, set off on its unprecedented mission at 10:49 p.m., thundering into a clear sky embellished by a waxing moon.
From NASA’s site on the mission:
The Delta II rocket carrying the Kepler planet-hunting spacecraft lifted off on time at 10:49 p.m. EST from Launch Complex 17-B at Cape Canaveral Air Force Station in Florida. The spectacular nighttime launch followed a smooth countdown free of technical issues or weather concerns.
Kepler’s mission: to peer closely at a patch of space for at least three-and-a-half years, looking for rocky planets similar our own. The spacecraft will target an area rich with stars like our sun, watching for a slight dimming in the starlight as planets slip through the space between.
“Kepler is a critical component in NASA’s broader efforts to ultimately find and study planets where Earth-like conditions may be present,” said Jon Morse, the Astrophysics Division director at NASA Headquarters in Washington. “The planetary census Kepler takes will be very important for understanding the frequency of Earth-size planets in our galaxy and planning future missions that directly detect and characterize such worlds around nearby stars.”
It was this mission that I used as the basis for the Advanced Survey Array – specifically, the idea that such an array would need to be situated somewhere which would be shielded in order to allow the greatest possible sensitivity in the search for likely planets for colonization. Why? Well, here’s a bit from the Wikipedia entry for the Kepler mission:
Kepler is not in an Earth orbit but in an Earth-trailing solar orbit 950 miles above the Earth[11][12] so that Earth will not occlude the stars which are to be observed continuously and the photometer will not be influenced by stray light from Earth. This orbit also avoids gravitational perturbations and torques inherent in an Earth orbit, allowing for a more stable viewing platform. The photometer will point to a field in the constellations of Cygnus and Lyra, which is well out of the ecliptic plane, so that sunlight never enters the photometer as the spacecraft orbits the Sun. Cygnus is also a good choice to observe because it will never be obscured by Kuiper belt objects or the asteroid belt.[9]
So, the ASA needed to be somewhere where it would be isolated & stable, as the Kepler observatory is somewhat isolated and stable – and that led to the idea of creating an electromagnetic “bubble” around Titan (where I wanted to situate the novel), caused by . . . what? It was at this point that I came up with the idea for the super-conducting ‘Tholan gel’, and from there . . . well, read the book. I don’t want to give away too many spoilers.
Anyway, glad that Kepler finally got off the ground – and I’m looking forward to the data which comes from it!
Jim Downey
OK, so that was strange.
A week ago, my good lady wife mentioned an upcoming SCA event. The 25th Anniversary of the founding of the Kingdom of Calontir.
I’ve mentioned the SCA here before, and something about my involvement in it. The truth of the matter is that I was actually fairly important in the organization at one point, and am a significant part of the early history of the local kingdom. You can look me up, if you want, under the name “Thomann Shadan Secarius”.
Anyway, we kicked around the idea of going, just to see some old friends for a few hours. Didn’t make a final decision to do so until fairly late yesterday morning. Got into a storage closet, dug out some garb, found some stuff that I could still wear, and packed up and drove over to St. Louis. I was a little bit nervous about walking back into that slice of subculture. It had been at least 7 years since I had even stopped in at an event briefly, and over a decade since I had actually “attended”. Almost no one there (other than a few close friends with whom I was still in contact) had any idea what I have been doing with my life in the years since I was last active. And likewise I had little or no idea of what most of them have been up to. And it wasn’t likely that I’d be able to spend a lot of personal time catching up with people, in the context of a busy event with over 500 attendees.
But we went. Found the site, parked, grabbed our stuff and went inside. Got through the registration quickly (most people had been at the site for hours), went and found somewhere to change.
I was barely a step outside the men’s room after changing before I was seen and nabbed by some old friends. And basically spent the next four hours bouncing around the large site, from one group of people to another for hugs and quick conversations, thumbnail sketches of who was still married and who had broken up, who had died and who hadn’t been seen in forever (I was in the latter group for the most part), who was out of work, what kids had come along.
It was actually quite enjoyable.
But I was exhausted by it. Not so much the conversation or reminiscing. That was good. More by having to exercise that much of my extrovert personna for such a long time in front of so many people. My strong tendency towards introversion has been fed by the years of being a care provider and working here alone.
It is part of the deep strangeness of my life that while I am so much an introvert I have often found myself in decidedly public roles. My early SCA career helped me understand how to do that, and do it reasonably well. But the tension within me remains. Late last night, after getting home and long after my wife had gone to bed, I sat up, reading online but actually doing a lot of thinking about this. I remembered that there was a point late in the afternoon yesterday, as everyone gathered in the large sanctuary in preparation for a formal “court”, and I stood off to the side, just watching, both a participant and an observer in the event. It was always such for me in the SCA. Hell, it was always such for me in almost everything, including my own actions.
Jim Downey
As I had mentioned, week before last I was off to the NE for a combination of business and pleasure. Pleasure in seeing a friend, checking out the Mark Twain House (more on that later), and then business & pleasure in going up to Boston to meet my collaborator on the caregiving book. That meeting went exceptionally well – almost frighteningly so. As I said in the following email exchange with a friend:
I am curious how the co-author gig is going. Do you feel like it’s a good partnership? Do you finish each other’s sentences or anything or have you carved up spheres of influence on the work?
As a matter of fact, it is almost a little creepy how much we *do* finish each other’s sentences and think alike. This was our first time to meet in person, and particularly in the brainstorming session about the book it was really weird how much we tracked along identical lines. We did come up with a structure for importing our respective prior writing into the joint book, and that is the next stage for us. But we also have a pretty good handle on how to proceed with the explanatory/interstitial material which will be needed.
This past week I’ve been fighting a low grade but fairly annoying and persistent chest cold, which has sapped a lot of my energy for much beyond what I *had* to get done. But I took yesterday easy, and this morning felt like I could get started on working on the book, using the new framework we had sorted out. It’s an interesting approach: we’ve established a metaphorical “year” that is meant to encompass the arc of the Alzheimer’s disease as experienced by a care provider, going from initial suspicions to the eventual death of the patient. Then there will be an afterward which will be about the process of recovery from being a care provider. Each month of the metaphorical year will contain excerpts from correspondence and blog posts, intertwined with additional explanatory material as needed.
So this morning, after an initial chat with my co-author about the formatting software (I’d had no experience with anything which was designed for multiple authors to work on remotely) to get me oriented, I started to excerpt and upload many of the blog posts which I have had here about caring for Martha Sr. It’s gone pretty well, and I made a fair amount of progress. But one problem keeps cropping up – my eyes keep leaking for some mysterious reason, to the point where it is difficult to see the screen in front of me. Maybe I should chat with my doctor about that.
Jim Downey
No, not more poetry. But you know how it is – your brain gets working that way, and soon you can’t escape making such references.
Rather, this is post #600 for this blog. That works out pretty well to 100 posts every four months, since I launched this blog right at two years ago. Of late I have had some thoughts about the natural lifespan of a blog – whether I should be considering a good point to close it down. But there’s no hurry – I’ve not yet accomplished getting Communion of Dreams published, and I still find plenty of things more-or-less related to it to write about, though the primary focus of the blog does seem to have shifted yet again. Oh well. For now, I will be sticking with this venue, and I promise plenty of warning if I give serious consideration to shifting over to something else.
Anyway, happy 600.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 