Sci-Fi Novel Idea: The First 400 Words

Brone Brezal's cyberclock hovered above his bed, holojecting the morning news onto his smartwalls. The lead story: pulse bombs on the New Miami Cloud Train. Muffled explosions and the reporter's shrill Spanglish roused the dozing grav-crane operator from his slumber.

He yawned and stretched out a genehanced arm, feeling for his companion. Then he remembered: Kimby Brobarn would be at work by now, relaying psychic messages from the Dade PsycheDome to MutantCom operatives all over the Reunited States. Her head was basically massive – like an overripe pear balanced on a cocktail stick – but Brone found her enchanting, and often escaped his long and mysterious past by gazing into her third eye and listening to tall tales of her wild adolescence on nearby Mars.

"Okay, Google," he began, "How long will it take me to get to work?"

A disembodied voice replied: "In current sky traffic conditions, your commute will take 25 minutes."

"We truly are living in the future," Brone chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the sheer ingenuity of the human race. He brewed a mug of instacaffeine in about two seconds flat before approaching his closet, the smartdoor sensing his proximity and shimmering into transparency. A sports jersey would suffice for casual Friday, so he reached for his Saray "Laser" Q'auktorian shirt. The smartdoor played back highlights of the superstar semi-forward's Hyper League-winning performances for the Tokyo Quantum Torrents. The video was pure mint quality, at least 1080p.

Before he could get the garment over his head, the apartment's digital ceiling suddenly shattered into a trillion bytes. Brone knew at once that a bit-grenade had been detonated; knowledge probably gleaned from his aforementioned long and mysterious past. He found himself prone on the floor, pinned down by a powerful assailant in a holosuit.

Brone somehow broke free and knocked the intruder out cold. The details aren't important; the point is that he was now able to wrest the helmet from his attacker and reveal his identity.

"Sweet Mercury!" he cried, recognizing a face from political history. What the hell was Dick Cheney doing in New Miami in the 26th Century? And why was he trying to kill a lowly grav-crane operator with a long and mysterious past? Brone had a feeling his bad day was only just starting. Which it was. It was 8am.

Available soon as an e-book

Toronto Election: A City Decides

The 2014 Toronto Mayoral Election will take place in just a few weeks. It's not an event that would normally garner attention on a global scale, but incumbent Rob Ford is now a household name (or a recent mainstay of talk show monologues, at least) so the October 27 vote may be the most publicized, scrutinized election in the city's history. I'm ineligible to vote, so you can count on my impartiality as I evaluate about the strengths and weaknesses of the top three candidates.

JOHN TORY
The name says it all. The frontrunner is Tory by name, Tory by nature; the electorate likely to be won over by his opposition to the radical liberalism of the Whig faction. Ontario's farmers, especially, are behind a candidate whose forebears supported protectionist agrarianism under the Corn Laws (1815-1846). Fast-forward to the 21st Century and it becomes clear that Tory himself is not entirely conservative: he hosts a Bon Jovi Barbecue every other month, inviting his neighbours over to sit around in stone-washed denim, sip light beer and discuss the highs and lows of Jon Bon's career. Guests sometimes stay as late as 10pm.

"A little more lemonade in my shandy, barkeep!"

Strengths:
- Wears his political convictions on his sleeve. And as his surname.
- A former protege of Ted Rogers; knows all about locking Torontonians into iron-clad four-year contracts.
- Unrivalled experience having already lost a mayoral election in 2003.

Weaknesses:
- Proposed tax breaks for manufacturers of powdered wigs may prove divisive.
- Lacks a blooper reel of hilarious screw-ups. 
- Likely to face fierce opposition from Councillor John Liberal, MPP John Democrat and Police Chief John Pragmatist.

OLIVIA CHOW
Arguably best-known as the widow of popular Opposition Leader Jack Layton, Olivia Chow has extensive experience in federal and municipal government. Transit, children and jobs are the three prongs of her campaign, prompting many to speculate that Toronto will soon employ its first infant bus driver. Chow's hopes were dealt a blow when Lucky Moose Food Market owner David Chen said he would endorse John Tory, even though it was Chow who'd instigated reform after Chen was arrested for attempting to make a citizen’s arrest on a serial shoplifter. So much for gratitude.

Little-known fact: Chow is also a successful gangster rapper.

Strengths:
- Can evade tricky questions in three languages.
- Often the only candidate to turn up to debates, proving to losers everywhere that it's the taking part that counts.
- Trademark garish bicycle may appeal to hipster vote.

Weaknesses:
- Worked in politics since 1991; likely to have only two-fifths of a soul remaining.
- Sole remaining left-wing candidate in a city of centrists.
- Doesn't host semi-monthly Bon Jovi appreciation event.

DOUG FORD
After being diagnosed with cancer, Toronto mayor Rob Ford decided against running for re-election and instead announced that his older brother Doug, already a city councillor, would take his place in the race for the hot seat. Douglas Bruce Ford Jr, as the ballot paper would put it, has a nasty streak a mile wide. I assume. Though little bro Rob's numerous gaffes have often been attributed to sheer dumbassery (thanks in no small part to his resemblance to Chris Farley), Doug emits an aura that suggests he's altogether more scheming, more conniving and more dangerous than his more famous sibling. The Toronto Star recollects his controversies: advocated closing libraries to save money, which led to a "bizarre" feud with author Margaret Atwood; claimed that a group home in his ward for developmentally disabled youth was "ruining" the neigbourhood; called a city hall journalist a "jihadist".

Doug Ford (L) and Bobby Heenan (R)

 Strengths:
- Looks a bit like Bobby "The Brain" Heenan.
- Born white and wealthy, he knows all about the "gravy train" he intends to abolish.
- Already has a catchy media nickname: "DoFo".

Weaknesses:
- Seemingly unwilling to attend mayoral debates.
- Haircut is very 2012.
- Is a Ford.

Car Buying: Pro Tips

Want to buy a car but don't know where to start? Don't know the difference between torque and horsepower? Worried that a stranger will start talking to you about carburetors? Don't worry: I was the same, but it didn't prevent me from acquiring an automobile from a car dealership. "How did you do it?" I hear nobody ask. Well, I'll tell you. Here are my pro tips for the inexperienced car purchaser.

Vroom! Vroom! Vroooooom! *screeching noises*

Don't Shop Around
Have faith that your first visit to a dealership will also be your last. This has twice been the case for me. That's an enviable 100% record. 

Use The Buddy System
Don't visit a dealership alone. The salesmen will find it that much easier to pinpoint your weaknesses (don't kid yourself -- you have many) and exploit them with ruthless efficiency.

Exaggerate Your Interest
You may have heard it said that you should play it cool and downplay your enthusiasm; make them work for your custom. Well, that's a load of nonsense. As soon as you're approached -- which should be within the first 20-30 seconds of your arrival -- adopt a wide, naive-looking grin and ask to be shown to a desk so you can sign papers without delay. This is guaranteed to throw the salesman off his game.

"Buying a car is a lot like making love to a beautiful woman..."

Play Good Cop/Bad Cop
When your dealer returns from his first I-like-you-so-I'll-see-what-I-can-do-for-you trip to the manager's office, thrust out your hand and attempt to accept terms without asking any questions. At this point, your buddy should sit sullenly and an awkward five-minute silence should ensue.

Get Tactile
Without warning, get up from your seat and wander round the showroom. Touch the cars. Rub them. Sit in the driver's seat and let out a long sigh of satisfaction. Slide underneath a car on your back and stay there for several minutes. Kick tires. Really punt them, like it's the field goal that wins the Super Bowl.

Mind Games
Smile broadly when you return to your chair. Wink at your buddy. Turn your attention to the dealer and offer a high-five. Remove your hand at the last second, exclaiming: "I DO NOT LIKE ANY OF THESE CARS." This kind of advanced psychological warfare may or may not lead to improved terms.

Refreshments
Refuse all offers of tea, coffee and water for the first hour, then suddenly demand all three. In one cup. But not a paper cup. And a sandwich would be nice, too.

Sealing The Deal
As soon as you're ready to sign the paperwork, look at your watch. You will not put pen to paper for at least another two hours. During that time, you can:

1. Go outside to make a protracted call to your "agent" (you can just hold your phone to your ear and move your lips; they'll be none-the-wiser)
2. Run your finger down the list of optional extras, pausing over each one to ask, "Can I have this for free?" and "Why not?"
3. Steer the conversation towards money and how you don't have any

And Don't Forget The Fail-Safe
Remember to misspell your signature so you can change your mind later and claim identity fraud.

Excuses, Half-Truths and a Wedding

So it seems my last post was August 2013. What a disgrace. What a bloody disgrace. Here are my excuses, in no particular order:

• It was winter. In Canada. My metabolism slowed down to the point of semi-consciousness, like a jellyfish (note to self: check that jellyfish actually do this). For six months and more, I could only afford to expend energy on the most vital tasks, like shovelling snow, making snow angels and staring poignantly at ominous grey skies.
• Acclimbatisation. When I first arrived in Toronto, there were lots of new and exciting things to write about. I went curling; I went five-pin bowling; I saw a hotrod. I'm now entirely used to such spectacular sights, sounds and pastimes -- hence fewer blog entries.
• Distractions. I bought an Ouya and set up XBMC. I got a promotion (sort of). I read a lot of non-fiction books. I finished Uncharted 3 -- only took me two years -- and I've just ordered Rocksmith 2014.

But the real reason behind my radio silence is the fact that Tony and I have been preparing for our summer wedding. From designing cushty invites and an action-packed itinerary to tasting food, wine and beer, it's been pretty much full steam ahead. Pretty much. We're giddy as schoolgirls to have friends and family flying in from Blighty, and we're quietly hopeful that more may yet confirm. For those who have RSVP'd -- and for those as-yet undecided -- here are some reasons to be excited for August:

• Several days in the spectacular environs of Niagara-on-the-Lake, where the ghosts of 19th Century British regulars doff their hats to passing tourists. Fact.
• Free food, beer and wine... FOOD, BEER AND WINE, ALL FOR NOWT!
• A hedonistic night out in Niagara Falls. May or may not include: boat trip, freak show, tequila, haunted house, bowling, tequila, karaoke, mini golf, casino, sambuca, nightclub.
• A chance to see the fabled Toronto Blue Jays in action. Remember when they won back-to-back World Series in 1992/93? No, me neither, but it's nice to watch baseball on a sunny day -- and beer is only $12 a can!
• CN Tower Edge Walk
• Tony and I have been saving up our best patter for more than two years, so our craic will be absolutely top drawer. Mine will be, anyway.
• Beavers, moose, geese, raccoons, bears, maple syrup, Mounties. All that jazz.

No thanks.

 
We may have twelvety more things to arrange for the big day itself, but as the sun starts to shine and the temperature starts to rise, we're geared up for what should be a special summer. I'll endeavour to document any and all developments that are suitable for publication. Like that time we ordered the white wine, and tried to make sense of the tasting notes we'd made at the winery; notes that described the order in which we tasted samples -- not the most useful reference two months on -- and soon descended into semi-coherent nonsense. After half-an-hour of "heated discussion", we're fairly sure we picked the right wines. In fact, we're 80% certain that 100% of our guests will like or love the white wine we chose. Ask anybody: those are good odds.