The Journey of SILVER BROWN

Ice Cream Social Distancing

The microscopic saber-toothed tiger currently prowling the earth has disrupted what would’ve been normal activities for most of us, no doubt. This decade is only a few months old and it’s coined a few buzzwords and catchphrases already. Whodathunkit? From my experience, most decades take at least a year or two to shrug off the aura of the previous decade and find their own groove. But these Not-So-Roaring Twenties did it in a fraction of that time. Now if we could just get rid of that racism crap too, that would be great. Like somebody once said, we’re all in this together.

I’m trying to make the most of the setback, investing some of that shiny new free time I have towards professional development. Just in case that comes in handy.😉 Nobody ever became terminally ill just by coding JavaScript. We ain’t a race of cyborgs yet…

…although even these seemingly harmless functions I wrote need to be zipped prior to sending by email. File compression is apparently the computer equivalent of hand-washing.

I continue to edit SILVER BROWN when I’m not willing web apps into existence. This chapter I’m working on now is a complete rewrite of a passage from an earlier draft. It dawned on me the other day that said passage would better serve the narrative if I put it earlier in the story than it was previously. As a result of this literary reconstructive surgery, the new rewrite features two characters that weren’t in that scene in the first draft (one of which is an artificial intelligence). A wondrous new dimension to the whole dynamic has consequently taken root.

Ah, wonder. Something that is in tragically short supply these days. That sense of wonder I derive from these Lutherans is a much-needed boost to personal morale in the face of this surreally dark period of human history. I could spend my time in social isolation flailing my arms running around like a headless chicken, but I’d rather just write.

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Quarantine and Quill

While we’re all twiddling our thumbs waiting to see the new world rising from the shambles of the old, I meditate this morning on the men and women in uniform who put their own sanity on the line every day to deal directly with all things insane. It should be pointed out that many of them keep journals. Writing things down feeds a human head the appropriate war medicine so it can poop out the bullshit and properly digest what’s truly important. Verily, it is fibre for the mind. Forgoing a regular voiding of this bullshit is the leading cause of a condition unofficially known as mental constipation, with symptoms that include frequent compulsions to run around like a chicken with its head cut off. Suffice it to say, there is no room for headless chickens in the armed forces. Generals and admirals don’t always publish their memoirs, but they will oft write those memoirs regardless, because they have to.

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The Bullhorn of SILVER BROWN

Now Playing: The Final Exam, Part I (The Late Show)

An encore presentation of Chapters Seven and Eight of SILVER BROWN is showing at the Olde Zuckerberg Theatre, today being the opening day. At a rate of one page a day, as is the usual custom. In these chapters, the witch Florys MacNab visits a mysterious program called Yggdrasil, which (aside from the presence of some kind of tree) bears little resemblance to its mythological namesake. There’s at least one other allusion to the Icelandic sagas in the text somewhere, and a hyperintelligent puffin…