Novel

    Yesterday when I got back from buying groceries, I heard an immediate knock on my door. Usually this means that the neighborhood crazy person is asking me about the movements of the people across the street with the idea of asking them if he can mow their lawn. (I tell him I am not my neighbor's keeper, but obviously with limited success.) This time, however, it was not a crazy person but coincidentally somebody from across the street. He turned out to be a novelist who had just finished his novel. He wanted to borrow my wireless so he could put the second half up on Amazon. ("Excuse me, can I borrow a cup of wireless?"
    I explained that I was more than willing, but that I ran all my Internet off the phone and that I wasn't sure if the WiFi would extend past the walls. I drew a blank on what my wireless signal was called, but none of the names that he remembered seeing rang any bells. However, since I had been so nice as to offer, he said he would give me a copy of the novel, which he had on a memory stick. His computer is a Mac and mine is Windows, so it took us (well, mostly him) a while to find the files, but eventually he did.
    I can't not read anything that's put before me, so I'm reading it. It's going pretty quickly and is quite well-written. Even for scifi, it requires a fairly high level of willed suspension of disbelief, but that's still legal in this country. I think I'll be giving him a very enthusiastic Amazon review within a couple of days. Cool stuff!