I've been doing Traveller too long ...

I woke up early this morning, with a fully-fledged dream in my head.

I was walking down a street, under a pleasant blue sky. Tall buildings of an alien shape rose up all around me. The street turned into a park, somewhat like Central Park in New York, only there was a huge difference.

All the men and women around me were Zhodani.

I can't even begin to describe how I managed to write two thousand words on the Zhodani last night. I must have sleep-written it all, because here am I, looking at three marvellous little file documents full of words on the Zhodani that I cannot remember writing at all.

Damn. And there was I, thinking that I was going to write something for S & P ...

Odd John

Just been reading Olaf Stapledon's Odd John again.

The eponymous character of Stapledon's novel really was an odious little tick. But you couldn't deny his genius. Nor the tragedy of his short little life.