The wind keeps howling. I should be asleep, but I'm not ready to sleep, yet.
Exene dropped the boys off earlier today, as she apparently had a hair appointment. I was fine with that, since I always enjoy more time with the boys, and they always have a good time.
B1 and I were talking about reentry vehicles, comparing the classic American conical reentry vehicles to the Soviet-era Vostok spherical ones -- B1 astutely conjectured why the Soviets used spheres, and I explained to him the different approaches of the respective space programs. He loves that stuff. We watched "The Right Stuff" in the wake of that conversation, which is an enjoyable movie, hearkening to a truly bygone age in our society. Amazing, really -- once the space shuttles are grounded, that'll be it for our space program -- in the wake of the endless budget crunch debates, the lopsided tax policy, I can't imagine any programs being funded in the near future, barring some serious shift in national priorities. Like they say in the movie: "No bucks, no Buck Rogers." I remember reading "The Right Stuff," man, I must've been a teenager. It was so long ago. A good book. Tom Wolfe is a good writer, or was one, anyway. Manages a narrative agility bound to a journalistic style.
I'm working on the new SF book; again, momentarily shelved the "contemporary" story just because I wanted to dive right into the SF book sequel while everything was still fresh in my head.
I don't really like talking about my writing; I'm truly the type to write more, and talk about writing less. Plenty of blowhards like to talk about writing, how they could do it if they had the time, or that they have great ideas for stories, but the real truth of it is that they never get around to writing them, because it's hard work, entirely thankless. As I've told someone in the past, it's not called "great idea-having;" it's called "writing." A great idea for a story is not a story.
The same goes with any creative endeavor -- everybody thinks they can do it, but most of them can't. And of the few who actually do it, fewer still are any good at it, and of those few, even fewer are truly great. I think I'm a good writer, but I don't think I'm a great one. Time will tell, if I can ever get those necessary breaks to make it happen. I certainly don't cut myself any slack with my work; I'm easily my toughest critic, and always will be. I trust that instinct. I try to do my best, for what that's worth.
