Weird Dream Channel

I'm asleep in my apartment. I think I hear the door bell ring. I catch just the last reverberations. There's a muffled banging on the front door, I get out of bed and go downstairs. A woman on the other side of the door says something like "open up, it's me" and she says her name but I can't make it out. It's a familiar voice, and I am thinking it's an ex-girlfriend. I open the door and it's my sister Briana, the one who lives in Israel, in a mild panic. I let her in, and suddenly we're in my parent's house, and my father is telling me not to let anyone in. I tell him it's okay, where can she sleep? He says to put her in the guest bedroom. Briana complains of a headache and she's visibly flustered, but the main idea in my head is to get her to bed, make her feel safe.

I go into the guest bedroom and the bed is made up as usual with an ancient pink flannel blanket. Near the pillow there are several items which I know my mother had left (mom uses the guest bedroom for knitting and such) and I start to pick things off the bed. An old radio, a calculator, pen, reading glasses. I notice a dark stain near the pillow, but don't give it much thought. Through the open door I see dad making up the bed in another bedroom, and I say "didn't you recognize Briana?". He doesn't look up, his back is to me, he tersely says "No" and continues to make the bed.

---

I wake up, and it's 6:25 am. I am hoping nothing has happened to Briana in real life. I figure I would get a phone call if anything had. Or email if it wasn't major. I'll check email when I get up for real in an hour or so.

---

Back to sleep, and the dream picks up from where it left off. But all that happens is I finish clearing off the bed, leave the room, and hear Briana go inside the guest bedroom and shut the door.

Fan Writers

Blame scendan. She started it. A link on her page took me to the LJ of a fan writer. An "I wanna be the next [fill in a favorite author here]". Makes me want to puke. I could say some very rude things on top of that, but let me explain by example.

Douglas Adams. I love his books, read every last one of them, including the one where his wife and best friend slopped the contents of his computer onto paper after his death. There are a couple of turns of phrase of his I especially like, and emulate in my own writing. And if I ever write a novel, I hope I can come close to his level of imagination. But I don't want to be the next Douglas Adams. I want to be me. However, in his last tome, he lists his favorite authors. Three out of four were also on my list, and since I admired his writing, I picked up a couple of books by that fourth person (Ruth Rendell) and am now a huge fan of hers, too. If I ever write a novel, I hope my characters an have the depth and growth hers have, but I don't want to be the next Ruth Rendell.

Ray Bradbury's writing amazes me, especially his short stories. He can turn a phrase with a simple unusual word association in a way that makes me squee out loud. And he can do this in every sentence in every story in an anthology. If I can do that once a page, I'm thrilled, but I don't want to be the next Ray Bradbury. ( BTW... )

Orson Scott Card is the only author I have come across whose writing is so good I will even enjoy reading his magic and fantasy novels. I prefer his sci-fi (Ender's Game got me started), but he knows how to tell a story, wrapped around a strong central character, and I admire that skill. If I ever write a novel, I hope my protagonist's strength and charisma comes close to that of Ender or Alvin. But I don't want to be the next Orson Scott Card.

Long story short, a writer can be a fan, and should be - the best way to learn how to write is to read, read and read some more. And here comes my big but, right in your face: But a copy cat is just a hack. A real writer doesn't want to be the next anyone else. A real writer wants to be brilliant by being himself.

Dr. Who Made Me Cry

In Series 2, there's an episode called School Reunion which brings back a 57-year-old Elisabeth Sladen in her old role as Sarah Jane. It helps a bit that she doesn't look a day over 45. Or maybe not. Toby Whithouse wrote this one, it's his only Dr. Who episode, and that's a shame because I think it's one of the most beautifully written of the last two years.

David Tennent has just enough Tom Baker in him to make the reunion poignant and touching.

I won't spoil it, just want to say that if you're a  Tom Baker era Dr. Who fan, and  only see one new episode, this is the one.