Ave Caesar

I was totally wrong about two things in my last entry:

1. Darin did not ask me out to the movie before we started snapping at one another; he asked me out before we did, and yet we went to the movie anyhow (thank goodness).
2. My birthday present didn't take weeks to arrive. It came yesterday.

My birthday present is a new Powerbook, a 3400. This screen is amazing. I can actually see stuff. I can have big windows. I may not have to scroll right for certain Web pages. (Scrolling right: one of the cardinal sins of the Web, right up there with blink.)

When Darin set up the Powerbook to install System 8 on it, he asked me what I wanted to name it. I'd been thinking about this for some time: Donut was such a great name, but I didn't want Donut II, the Return of Donut, or Beignet.

Area 51 would have been great three or four years ago, but it's totally overexposed now.

I stood there like a silly for a few seconds.

"Nero." Pause. "I have no idea why I said that."

"It's a great name," he said, and Darin typed the name Nero in for the hard disk. I have to come up with a name for the computer too, when it's on the network: I guess Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero will have to do for now.

Basically, what I've learned from this naming experience is that if Darin and I ever have kids, we should probably have the names worked out before they arrive, because otherwise they're going to have the names I give them.

This computer is great. It's wicked fast (no, not like the IIfx; Nero is actually wicked fast). The keyboard is better than the 540's (which wasn't bad), and the screen...I cannot say enough about this screen. It's gigantic (for a PowerBook). I have stuff all over my screen and it's not because I was cramming in a bit here and another bit there. I can actually see the applications that are behind BBEdit right now. I can actually have the HTML Tool palette and Windows palette out, instead of putting most of the palette window off-screen.

Those of you with 2-page monitors think I'm babbling. But it's been years since I've used a 2-page on a regular basis.

I had lunch with Jackie, one of the GSPers, yesterday at the Denny's by USC. (She works at USC and doesn't have a car.) It turned out she'd given me two copies of the same script on Saturday and I'd forgotten to bring mine altogether, so yesterday I brought the extra of hers and a copy of mine and exchanged them for the second of hers.

We ended up going through everyone in the class with whom we'd been in a writing class with and discussing what we thought of their writing. Usually (though not always), if we didn't like the person, we didn't like their writing and vice-versa, but liking the person was not always a prerequisite for liking their writing. There were few surprises for either of us, although there were a couple of people I didn't know anything about, whether as people or writers.

I got to thinking about the nature of writing and writers. You can't tell much about a person from their writing, particularly if they're a good writer -- just because I write about vampires or mobsters (or vampire mobsters...has that been done before?) does not mean that I am undead or a loan shark. But still...there are clues. Usually these are clues based on several works, not just one, though the signs might be there early.

Like when all the female characters are just there to sleep with the guys -- that tells me something about the author. Or every character runs around yelling profanity all the time. Profanity, to me, is incredibly useful -- God knows I use it enough. But in writing profanity is usually a sign of a failure of creativity. When all the characters know are four-letter words, it's boring, not shocking. And it makes me think that the writer is trying to shock me but succeeds only at boring me.

Or the writer doesn't spellcheck or know proper grammar. (Jackie couldn't believe the low level of some of our fellow students' writing ability.)

Or the writer cannot tell a good story, or even know a good story when a good story comes up and bites his or her ankles. I am not saying that every story must be great, wonderful, perfect -- I have written my share of sucky, stupid stories in my time, and I'm ashamed to admit it. But it happens and you move on. When everything someone outputs is dreck, that person is a bad writer.

And there's the inclusion of stuff that makes me doubt someone's sanity or maturity or world-view. That's when I will back away slowly and definitely judge the person based on the writing. The inclusion of difficult material is tricky, of course; that's why most people stay away from it. Wisely, I feel. In the hands of a master, a novel about pedophilia and American mores becomes Lolita. In the hands of an idiot, it becomes another installment on alt.sex.stories.

What I think of someone's writing affects how I look at them as a person. I asked a fellow writer last night about this and she said that yes, she feels the same way. If she gets to know the people whose writing she doesn't like, then she'd have to worry about their feelings when she tells them their writing's terrible. Which I thought was a pretty good way of putting it.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

3 miles! Whoo hoo!