NaNoWriMo update: My Favourite Editor.

Well, I started off with a bang for NaNoWriMo this year -- 10,000 words in the first weekend.

The story was about twelve people that traveled across Canada. So, the first chapter was about the person from B.C., the second chapter was about the person from Alberta, and by the time I got to Saskatchewan, I was struggling to get the words across. My characters were struggling to find interesting things to do. They seemed trapped at a rest stop on the Trans-Canada, unable to do anything but talk about coffee. That wasn't what I wanted -- what I wanted was to write about the songs of walruses and unquestionable dominance of the polar bear. I want to write about high-kicking seals, about towns populated only by sled dogs, and about hunting trips that don't require any preparation beyond flour and ammo.

So, I'm going to write about it. Goodbye, original storyline! Hello, drastic swerve into interesting material!

It might seem a bit capricious and, well, amateur to switch gears halfway through. But NaNoWriMo's all about your self-discovery as an amateur writer, and that's exactly what this is. Besides, I'll still be incorporating my first three chapters -- it's just that these will be the only characters. I'm just editing out the chaff before I write it, that's all. I'm looking forward to this weekend of writing more than ever, now.

And on a completely unrelated note: Guitar Hero may make you feel like you're playing at a sports stadium. But Wii Music makes you feel like you're playing at the Muppet Theatre. There's something to be said for that.

Family Reunion.

It's no literary achievement to liken the Trans-Canada Highway to a major artery of the nation. But I do have a small twist of my own to put on that metaphor: The No. 1West is the artery of Canada. The major vein is the No. 1 East.

Maybe it's just a product of the summer vacations my parents chose, or maybe it's in accordance with the sun, or maybe it's just that Pet Shop Boys song. Regardless, my natural instinct is always to start heading west. I don't need any encouragement to travel in that direction. Heading east, on the other hand, signifies a return. The job is done, the motivation has no pulse, and all that's left is a more relaxed path between rest stops.

And so, when I begin a trip by heading east to Regina, it always feels a bit like I'm going against the flow.

It was still a good trip, though. Friends were met, eggs were broken, bowls were shared, and bunnies danced.

Of particular note, though, was my evening with the grandparents. I was staying the night, and after the seven-course meal (ah, grandmothers), the three of us settled down in front of the television. Alternating between a romantic comedy and a hockey game was pleasant, but the eventually the Leafs won and Minnie Driver got the man of her dreams. The next movie on cable was "Hallowe'en", and I think you all can appreciate why I quickly suggested we turn off the television.

However, small talk runs out after a while, and that's when the photo albums came out. Leafing through page after page of grandchildren, I couldn't help but think about the Wii I had in the trunk of my car. That's supposed to be all the rage with seniors nowadays, isn't it? Wouldn't they enjoy it? I decided against it, ultimately, but it did remind me of something else I brought with me.

"Say, Grandma... a friend of mine lent me a CD by a country singer named Corb Lund -- he's actually from the town of Taber, right by Medicine Hat. It's actually quite good, and I think you'd like it, so I made you a copy. Hold on, and I'll get it from the car."

When I came back inside with the CD... pandemonium.

My grandmother had convinced my grandfather that Corb Lund was a close personal friend of mine, and they had to get that CD playing as soon as possible, even if it meant rearranging all the ornaments covering their stereo, and pulling out the surrounding furniture to find out where the stereo used to plug in.

I tried to downplay the issue, and convinced them that they didn't have to remodel the living room tonight. I also tried to clear up the "friend" angle... they now think that Corb's a close personal friend of the guy who lent me the CD. I call it a partial success.

However, I was certainly convinced by this point that hooking up a video game console would have been too great an undertaking, so once again, I put the idea of the Wii aside.

Then, later that evening, a game of checkers was proposed, but dismissed when no checkerboard could be found, and my grandfather admitted that he hadn't played checkers in over a decade...

Later still, the topic of bowling came up, and they commented on how nice it was to be able to bowl year-round. Of course, it was still a pain getting to the bowling lanes...

I want to reassure you all that I had a wonderful time, and that I treasured their company. But let me tell you this, my friends: Never once, in my wildest dreams, did I ever imagine that I (or anyone) would feel guilty about not playing video games with my grandparents.

Seriously, I think we're going to have to invent a word for this.

Would a re-invented wheel be edgier?

*blink*

Ow, my eyes... okay, maybe that was a little too much Wii this weekend.

Fortunately, this was primarily a reading weekend, and a good one at that. I found a garage sale with the sort of sci-fi collection that would get you on Antiques Roadshow. This is great, because I'm still trying to read at least one book by each of the 23 Grand Masters of Science Fiction. Leafing through them today, I'm aware that they're a breath of fresh air in a smoggy world.

For the most part, these authors weren't the million-sellers; these were the people that the million-selling authors read when they were kids.

There's an incredible sense of "play" in their works. They're writing a story first, and a genre second. If it served the story, they weren't above writing a happy ending. Even in the stories where everything goes horribly wrong, there's still a reassuring implication that it's just for fun -- although if you want to learn something from it, so much the better.

It almost seems like sci-fi authors have to work harder today, to make sure that their book stands out against this background. Usually, it results in an emphasis on deeper characters or harder science or closer relevance, and that's great. But it's vital to keep perspective on where you are, and not to make assumptions about the previous generation.

What touched off this entire post was the Battlestar Galactica commentary I watched this afternoon. The producer, Ron Moore, mentioned that the 1978 series was nice, but today's audiences were more sophisticated. For the record, the new Battlestar is way better than the old series, but that one comment set my teeth on edge.

One lesson I will always carry with me from Bio 100: "More evolved" does not mean "superior". If a tapeworm grows body hair, it's more evolved. It will then die when its host chokes up a living, squirming hairball. There are many words to describe that, but none of them are "superior".

Similarly, don't pat yourself on the back for having a sophisticated audience. Unless you're PBS, you're confusing "thoughtful" with "media-saturated". It's a valid reason for messing with a dated TV show, but never assume that newer is better.

I really hope I'm writing this because it's true, and not because I'm getting old and crotchety.

Good-bye, wordcount. I'll miss you.

Saturday, I was obviously in a bad mood. Sunday was better though... sure, I waited in line for three hours for a store to open, but it's kind of like Star Wars... the communal experience is what makes it special. And unlike Star Wars, I actually bought a ticket this time! To absolutely no one's surprise, I bought a brand-new Wii yesterday. Here's the quick review: 100% Happy Happy Joy Joy. But I want to talk about something else right now.

Check out that handsome devil! Right from the start, you can fiddle around with the "Mii Channel" and create your own likeness (and many others). Then, he appears in Nintendo's games as your default character. When I load up Wii Boxing, there he is, bare-chested and wearing purple shorts. When I start Wii Baseball, he's wearing a jersey and pinstriped pants. On top of that, I can send copies of him to other people's accounts, so that when they start boxing, they have the option to pummel my face into its consituent pixels.

It's funny how technology continually takes us around in a circle. In the pre-WWW days, you could play games on a BBS, where you'd compete against other players. Of course, since you could rarely find a BBS with more than two phone lines, you'd actually just compete against the other player's statistics. The next time he logged in, he'd find out who he fought, and what happened.

Now, 13 years after Doom, we're back to the same idea -- sure, there's still head-to-head competition, but now you can also play against people who aren't online. And it's great! I bought an XBox Live account so that I could play with my friend in Regina while we chatted over the headset. Go ahead, take a wild guess how many times that happened. Here's a hint: one of us has home renovations, parents-in-law, and a life. The other one gave up and bought a Wii.

Another nifty feature is that you can't communicate with anyone unless you contact them outside of the Wii and exchange System Codes. At first, it sounds like a useless layer of paperwork that cripples gaming efficiency. But that's kind of the point. After all, would you invite the Internet over for tea and cookies?

So, if you have a Wii, and you want to try this out, my System Code is 5919 7004 2166 0472. E-mail me with yours, and we'll be able to send cartoon people back and forth like carrier pigeons.

Whee!