I'm moving. Moving my blog, that is. After a lot of thought, I've realized that Multiply no longer does what I need it to do as a depository for my thoughts, my feelings, my musings, my rages, my rants, my raves, or my general waffling.

(click on the photo to enlarge)

My friend & co-worker Paul and I have begun a tradition of giving each other keychains as souvenirs of our travels. I thought the rules were that they had to be tacky keychains --the one I got him from Istanbul was wonderfully god-awful. But, then he went and broke the cardinal rule on his recent trip back home to England.

I've been a rare presence around here in recent weeks, for a number of reasons. Life has been... "interesting" I guess would be the best word. There's been good... there's been bad... there's been plain "meh." Perhaps it would simply be easier if I listed some of the things happening:

At the dojo last night, I bumped into a friend and training partner that I hadn't seen in over a month (I also learned a really cool way to break someone's arm, but that's another story).

After exchanging hellos and other pleasantries, my friend said, "So, work's been a little stressful recently, has it?"

"Yes," I replied, "as a matter of fact I've been very busy.... wait. How did you know?"

"Your beard's going white."

"Wait. What? WHAT?"

I ran to the dojo bathroom and looked in the mirror, and, sure enough:

I HAVE A MASSIVE FRIGGIN' PATCH OF WHITE HAIR IN MY BEARD!!!!

And, we're not talking hair just a bit lighter than the surrounding hair (I'm a very fair-haired redhead anyway). There's a friggin' patch of WHITE HAIR that's as white as the DRIVEN SNOW!


AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!

So it begins --one month before my 37th birthday, and I have officially entered middle-aged. Soon I will be the crazy old guy who lives with a blind, toothless 20-year-old cat and chases kids off the front yard with a rake.

That's it! I'm going to prove that I'm still young and virile. I'm going to buy me a sports car and go clubbing all weekend. I'm young. I'M YOUNG!!!!

I can always use a little more bounce and strut in my step as I make my way around the mighty Tokyo. So, as I took the train to work this morning, I decided to get myself a mini-amplifier to plug into my iPod, to give me that extra BOOOOOOOM WOOOOOOOSH BOOOOOOOOM as I shake my booty on the Subway. Arriving at work, I immediately fired up good old Amazon.jp and noticed that they were offering me a free trial of their "Expedited Shipping". Huzzah! I quickly selected the amp (the iBossa T3) I've been eying, and purchased it. It was waiting for me at home when I returned! Double huzzah!

I'm so excited to try it out, but with a current total of 67.1 days worth of music to choose from, I have no idea where to start. Which means that, as always, it is time to turn to the gods of iPod shuffle to take it for a test drive. Here then, are the first 5 songs blasting through my new amp. (Please gods of iPod, give me some BASS!)

...or give me some cheesy mid-80's pop from an obscure Quebec band. In this case, it's decided to give me "Crying Out Loud For Love" by The Box. Unless you were an avid watcher of "Video Hits with Samantha Taylor" on CBC around 1987, you'll probably never have heard of this. I'd forgotten what the song was called for almost 20 years until I stumbled across it randomly on youtube a few months ago. I immediately went to iTunes and bought the album. Not a rocker, but the amp is certainly making those cheesy 80s synthesizers sound deeper and warmer. God, I missed this song. "Nuh, nuh, na na nuh"..... okay then, it's up to song #2 to bring the BOOM!



...and it does with something called "Countach" by someone called Franz & Shape. No idea who or what they are, but it's on a mix CD by Mylo, possibly my favorite techno DJ from the Isle of Skye. Ok, possibly the ONLY DJ from the Isle of Skye. But, a bass thumping tune. Hope no one's trying to get my attention right now, because with this amp cranked up and my headphones on, absolutely NO outside sound is seeping in. Cool little dance tune, and it doesn't hurt to be named after the prettiest car ever designed.



Moving along, and hoping for more BANG SHAKA SHAKA, we get an early 90's French rock/pop band instead (my iPod has decided I need to brush up on my French tonight, apparently). The band in question is Niagara, and the song is "J'ai Vu". Aside from the fact it's in French, there's nothing particularly unique about the song, or the band, but I had the biggest crush on the singer when I was 16. I still do, I guess, because I'm grinning like an idiot listening to her. Verdict: this amp makes the language of love sound pretty damn sinister. The question now is: will the gods of shuffle continue to test my French abilities?



Nope. Instead they've decided to keep bringing back crush objects from my youth, this time in the form of the one and only Tori Amos and "Caught a Lite Sneeze". I haven't followed her career in the last 15 years, but I played the crap out of her first 3 albums when I was in college. I don't believe I would have made it through my 3rd year of college if it hadn't been for her album "Under the Pink". I still have every line of every song of that album memorized. This song, off the follow-up "Boys for Pele", is a highlight as well. The amp is certainly doing a fantastic shop adding depth to the piano parts. I feel like I can actually hear the little hammers making contact with the piano springs. Well done, O gods of shuffle, and now it's time to bring it home with...



...my own personal theme song. Oh, gods of iPod, you truly know how to bring the boom. How to pack the punch. How to strut up a step. Indeed, I could listen to this song on repeat every moment I'm out on the town and feel absolutely invincible. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my own personal theme song, brought to you by the one, the only, the incomparable Tom Waits, and "Big in Japan"....

I haven't done one of these Internet survey things recently, but since I've been feeling pretty full of myself lately, I figured I might as well give this one a shot. And.... we are off to the races!

I am:  in a good place right now, personally and professionally.

I know that:  I need to learn when to let go.

I want to: be a Blue Belt in Jiu-jitsu, and I am working toward that goal every day.

I have:  a ridiculously large music collection.

I wish:   I had taken control of my career and physical condition in my 20s, instead of waiting until my mid-30s.

I hate:  that the Tokyo Metro Subway believes Rain = Cold, and so turn on the heaters anytime there's even a smattering of rain.

I miss:  living in a city where your friends can just "drop in" whenever they feel like it. Here, meeting people is such a task.

I fear: the people dressed in giant mascot costumes at Disneyland.

I feel:  the world would be better if people complimented each other more often.

I hear:  music everywhere I go. In the gurgling of the coffee maker, in the tick-tock of a clock --absolutely everything in the world is part of my soundtrack.

I smell: poorly, unless someone is wearing way too much perfume.

I crave:  women who are no good for me. I'm such a sucker for them.

I search: and search, but am completely unable to find the perfect wine bottle opener.

I regret: not kissing her that time, when I had a chance.

I love: Jiu-jitsu. When I'm training I feel like nothing else in the world exists.

I care:  more than my face sometimes shows. Trust me. I heard every word you said, and I'm there for you.

I always: eat one more piece of pizza then I really needed to.

 

I believe: that people who say "I did my best." didn't really. But, those who say "I can do better next time." probably will. Learning from our mistakes is what it's all about.

I dance:  every morning, rain or shine, as I make my coffee and pull open the curtains.

I sing: all the time, occasionally in key, usually too loudly, but always with all my heart.

I don’t always: tell you the whole truth. Not because I have that many secrets, but more because I don't think you'd really care.

I truly desire:  you. And, you, And, most certainly, you. But, not you.

I like:  a list of items, hobbies, activities, and forms of art and entertainment that would take a very long time to share with you.

I write: mostly in short, simple sentences. Conversationally. And yet, hopefully, poetically.

I lose:  all willpower when pretty girls ask for favors.

I win:  because I play for fun, not for victory at all costs.

I try:    to be serious, but I usually crack a smile anyway.

I never: worry that tomorrow won't bring something new. It might not be pleasant. It might not be exciting. It might not be what I wanted. But, it will be new. That's what life is about.

I am grateful: I am debt-free, have a roof over my head, and once was told by the prettiest woman I've ever met in real life that I was "good looking."

I listen: at  all times when I'm at home that I'm not a) asleep, or b) watching TV.

I am scared:  of bears and sharks, and worry that they are working together to create bear-sharks, which will conquer the world.

I need:  you. So get over here.

I am happy that:  when the bear-sharks come, I will have the self-defense skills of Jiu-jitsu to keep them at bay.

After giving it my all in this morning's training class.




EDIT: Not only a fantastic training session, but an all around good day. Check this:

My favorite author, Ian Rankin, just sent me a direct message (in Japanese!) through my Twitter account! This, of course, must mean that we are now best friends. Right? RIGHT?

In just under a minute, my first ever Jiu-jitsu fight was over.

I. Got. Rocked.

Humiliated, annihilated, and destroyed by my opponent.

Luckily for my pride, he completely destroyed his next opponent as well, so at least I know I was in good company at the bottom.

That being said, I had a fantastic day out at the tournament. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. Learn from your mistakes, they say, and I certainly will.

Funny story. After losing 6 kilograms in 2 weeks to make the weight cut for my division, it turned out my teacher was mistaken about what the weight cut actually was. I had been preparing under the assumption it was 83 kg with my kimono on. But, it turns out the limit was actually 82.3 kg. So, before my fight, I lost almost another kg in just under an hour. Let's just say I jogged around that gymnasium more times than I could count.

The fight result aside, I feel absolutely fantastic. I could try to tell you exactly how much Jiu-jitsu has changed every part of my life. I could tell you that I am a completely different man than when I started. But, I've heard something along the lines of "A Picture is worth a thousand words." So, here you are:

July 1, 2009 --first day of Jiu-jitsu:



October 31, 2010 --day of first fight:




Pictures.
Thousand words.

Progress.

Only Forward.



EDIT: If you really, really, really want to put things into perspective, here's me at age 20.

I had originally written "Great Ass Day", but I thought you might have wondered how you could have missed a holiday devoted entirely to that noblest of animals, the donkey.

Whatever we choose to call today, one thing was certain. I looked damn good. So good that I had to get one of my co-workers to snap a photo of me on my iPhone.



And, in true GQ photospread tradition, I'll even describe my ensemble.

4-Button Wool Blazer -United Arrows (Japanese brand)
T-shirt -Abercrombie & Fitch Muscle-T
Low-rise boot cut jeans -American Eagle
Canvas combat boots -AVIREX
Vintage World War 2 Swedish Cavalry Officer Ammo Bag -courtesy of an antique/vintage clothing shop in Shibuya

One kilogram down, and two more to go before my first fight on October 31st. I started jogging again this week for the first time in a year and a half, ever since my tendinitis forced me to stop. I've been jogging 3 days this week, about 35 minutes each time, and so far, so good.

It's odd, if you think about it, actually. Consider: I used to love jogging --it was my favorite form of exercise. Then, I was forced to stop because of my tendinitis. This led me to think about other activities I could do that wouldn't be so hard on my legs (it's the "thump, thump" impact of my foot on a hard surface that sets my injury off). In turn, this led me to consider Jiu-jitsu as a possibility, because Jiu-jitsu is based around grappling rather than striking (unlike, say, kick-boxing).

So, if I had never started to get tendinitis, I might never have taken the leap and started Jiu-jitsu, which has become my very favorite thing in the world.

Funny that.

Anyway, I'm training hard, and trying to resist the urge to gorge on chocolate. Two more weeks, and two kilograms to go.

Here's a great shot my teacher took last night during a pause between sparring matches. The handsome devil to the right is another classmate from my dojo who has become a great friend. I believe I'm telling him how a Purple Belt (2 levels higher than me) choked me to within seconds of unconsciousness. Good times. Good times...

This morning I woke up and watched a nation work tirelessly to reunite 33 men, trapped 650 meters under ground for 69 days, with their families.

Then I came into work. Where, for the past 30 minutes, I have watched two of my co-workers sniffing different samples of paper, trying to decide which one "smells best" for our internal publications.

Just saying that some things matter more than others, is all.

I'm man enough to admit it. At work today, I had a good little old weeping session. The BBC has been live-streaming the rescue of the 33 Chilean miners from the San Jose mines, and I had it on while I worked in my office.

I held it together when they sent down the first Rescue Assistant, who was the first person the 33 miners had physically seen in 69 days. I even held it together as the first miner broke free to the surface in the "Phoenix" capsule, and was greeted by his wife and daughter. But, when they brought up the second miner, Mario Sepulveda, it was too much. When he was still 100m from the surface, he began shouting up the shaft to his wife "I'm coming, I'm coming." And the pure emotion on his wife's face as she reacted to the news was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The connection between the two of them, surrounded by hundreds of rescuers, hundreds of officials, hundreds of reporters, and millions watching worldwide, was so pure and wonderful, made more so my the fact that he hadn't even reached the surface yet. So, I pulled myself away from the desk, went into the office lunch room, and had a good old blubber.

This is what the world should be like. People working together to overcome adversity and to put loved ones back with their families and friends. I could easily stay awake for the next 36 hours to watch each of the 33 men and their families go through the same joyous moment.

As the previously-mentioned Mr. Sepulveda said in an interview shortly after his rescue: "Love is the most wonderful thing there is."

It has been a privilege to witness the best of humankind on this day. Well done, world. Well done.

On my way home from work yesterday, I stopped at one of my favorite neighborhood cafes, Restaurant Figaro in Aoyama. Aside from being a lovely little place, where the staff all speak French, they also make the best Cafe Mocha in Tokyo. I was sitting at my usual table outside when I realized, for the first time, that I had a great view down the street towards Roppongi Hills, with Tokyo Tower peeking shyly from around the back. I whipped out my iPhone to take this snapshot:


I wanted to use the water bottle and the Cafe Mocha to frame the shot, so I set my iPhone down on the table. What's amazing about this photo to me is the reflections of the crosswalk in the water bottle, an effect that I couldn't see when taking the picture, because the camera was being held down around my waist. Moral of the story --beauty exists everywhere. But, the best Cafe Mochas exist at Restaurant Figaro.

One of the hardest things about living in Japan for 12 years is being a Sports Fan who has lived in Japan for 12 years. I love me my Sports-watching, and t'is the best time of the year to be a fan. The Canadian Football League (CFL) is edging its way towards the playoffs, the NFL season is well underway, baseball playoffs have begun, and the NHL and the NBA are both moments away from starting their seasons. But, living on the other side of the Pacific means that I rarely, if ever, actually get to watch any of this. Japanese television shows none of the games, and most live-streaming websites are blocked to me, as I'm not in North America. So, I spend a lot of my time reading about games, teams, and players, without actually seeing a single minute of play.

Case in point: a couple of years ago, when Ray Emery was playing goalie for my beloved Ottawa Senators hockey team, he played for them for two years before I learned he was black. Not that his race was of any importance to me, but it was funny that I knew all of his game stats, but had no idea what he looked like.

Anyway, back to the beginning.

I am a huge Sports Fan, living in Japan, and I want a team I can support and follow, and preferably one that I can watch play live, rather than in short re-cap video clips.

So, this year, I have decided to become a supporter of, wait for it, wait for it...

The Halifax Rainmen!


*crickets chirp*

"Who?", you may ask, and rightfully so.

The Halifax Rainmen play in the PBL, of course.

"Where?", you may query, scratching your head, and rightfully so.

The PBL is the Premier Basket League, a semi-professional, 8-team league based mostly in the Northeast part of the U.S. and Canada. Their season begins at the end of the year, which should give me a lot of time to brush up on my team knowledge.

I mean, why cheer for those fat cat New York Yankees, or NFL teams who get 60,000 people to every game? Why give your money and support to spoiled rich players like LeBron or Bosh, who have proven only that they have no loyalty to anyone but the almighty paycheck? This is your chance to support the little guys, the guys who play for love of the game.

I've made my choice, and this year I stand firmly behind my newly-beloved Halifax Rainmen. Here are a few talking points to get you started, if you care to join me in post-game discussions, once the season is underway:

1. The home court is the Halifax Metro Center.
Sample use of point: "Wow, the Metro Center was really hopping last night! It was like a Dionysian orgy! Uh, that means it was loud and rowdy."

2. The cheerleaders are called the Weather Girls.
Sample use of point: "Those Weather Girls can give me my long-range Doppler forecast any day!"

3. The team mascot is called Thunder.
Sample use of point: "Thunder, get the hell out of the way of the camera so I can see the game, or, so help me God, I will bring the Thunder and punch you in the face!"

4. Well, actually, that's pretty much it, because they haven't named a roster of players for this season yet. But hey, points 1-3 should keep the conversation going until at least the pre-season! Right? RIGHT?

And here's a few links to get you started:

Premier Basketball League (PBL) home page: http://www.thepbl.com/index.cfm
PBL Wikipedia page, for background information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Premier_Basketball_League
Halifax Rainmen home page: http://www.rainmenbasketball.ca/index.php
Halifax Rainmen Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halifax_Rainmen
Rainmen on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/HalifaxRainmen
Plus, the best part for me is that the Rainmen will live stream all of their home games through their Website --I'm getting the beer and popcorn ready even as I type this!

Go Rainmen!

So, in an unfortunate act of irony, during a lecture tonight, my explanation of the phrase "He spoke at length on the topic." took almost 15 minutes. I could even feel myself rambling on, but was powerless to stop myself.

Also of note today. Like American Major League Baseball has arrived at the post-season, so too has the Japanese professional league. One of the teams in the running for the championship this year is the Seibu Lions, who are owned by the Seibu company. They also own a large department store chain, one branch of which is next to my office. Plastered all over the department store are posters offering encouragement to the team and its fans. Unfortunately, no one thought to, I don't know, maybe ask a random English passerby if there were any problems with the poster text.

So, all over this major department store, one can find the following:


Which is all well and good, I suppose. Personally, I would be distrustful of Lions. Most likely they have an ulterior motive. Like hunger. My poster would therefore read: "I take what Lions say under consideration, but then seek other opinions before making up my mind."

In a random brain-connection, this makes me think of an old Mitch Hedberg joke: "I find a duck's opinion of me is based largely on whether or not I have any bread."

Dark days and rain clouds can't keep me down today. Not only did I have a fantastic training session at Jiu-jitsu this morning, but I got myself tickets to see one of my favorite bands of the past two years for this Wednesday night. The band is from Spain, and they are called Delorean, and they make great, upbeat, chill music that makes me want to run to the beach and play in the surf. They're playing in my favorite small venue in Shibuya as well, so I won't have to jostle everyone for a view of the stage. I can just choose my spot and dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, dance the evening away.

Life is a wonderful thing, and I'm so happy to be along for the ride.

Here's some Delorean to make you wish you could be dancing with me on Wednesday.


And, just to nip any other snarky "Delorean" references in the butt before they have a chance to take over, I leave you with this oldy, but goody, from the early days of Youtube viral videos.

As is often pointed out to me, I am, in fact, a man. "Hey, nice beard!" exclaimed a complete stranger to me the other day. "Thanks," I replied, "I grew it myself. By not shaving. Because, I am a man." Yes, it certainly takes a lot of effort to be a man. Not shaving. Choosing the first T-shirt I see in the drawer. Wearing sneakers, no matter what the occasion. But, a confession: I was not always this manly. So, how did I become this beast, this monster, this, dare I say, "Man" of a man. Well, one factor would have to be the fact that I can read. In fact, I read and write goodly. Would you too like to be "manly"? Well, here's a few of the works that made me the, uh, man I am today.

1. "The Three Musketeers" by Alexandre Dumas.


Swords! Swordfighting! Chivalry! Evil figures of authority, and beautiful damsels in distress! Feats of amazing derry-do! If you have a chance, read one of the recent unabridged translations of these classic novels. With the modern translations, the action and dialogue both come fast and furious.

2. "Into Thin Air" by John Krakauer.


It starts as a memoir of a real "boys own" adventure --climbing Mount Everest, but turns into some pretty heavy soul-searching after the expedition goes wrong, leaving several members of the team dead near the summit of the mountain. An absolutely gripping re-counting of the tragedy that allows you to be manly, but also lets you show people that you have a heart. One of my favorite pieces of journalistic writing ever.

3. The "Bolitho" novels by Alexander Kent.


Real men like to pretend they know all about nautical terms, military traditions, and how to survive in the worst of situations. Others will tell you to read O'Brien's "Master & Commander" series, or the "Nathaniel Hornblower" books. But, for me, Mr. Kent's long, long running series of books set in the late-18th/early-19th century British navy just can't be beat. Again, very "boys own" tales of adventure, with a colorful cast of characters and just the right mix of technical jargon, period slang, and far-fetched situations. There's seemingly about 50 of these books, and they do follow some kind of chronological order. But, honestly, it really doesn't matter which one you pick up and read first.

4. "How to Win Friends and Influence People" by Dale Carnegie.



It's odd, I don't actually like this book. I have mocked it repeatedly and mercilessly for years and years. But, for some reason, I keep coming back to it. Maybe it's the quaint anecdotes and out-dated values (there are far too many casual mentions of Teddy Roosevelt, and Carnegie's idea of a woman's role in the family is pretty out-dated). Plus, there's not a single chapter in the book that will come as a revelation --pretty much everything hinges on common sense. And yet, the message is timeless, and reading it makes you remember that, sure, you might be a man, but there's no reason why you can't also be a gentleman.

5. "The Encyclopedia of Modern Bodybuilding" by Arnold Schwarzenegger.


Say what you will about the Governator --he sure chose his ghostwriter well for this book. I'm by no means into body-building as a sport (although I'm do like weight training generally), but the great thing about this book is that, after reading it, you really do believe you too could be Mr. Universe. I'll be honest, I've read the entire thing about 5 times, and have applied his motivations to almost every part of my daily life. Sure, I'll never be able to bench-press a pickup truck, but Arnie (and his ghostwriter) really make me want to try.

6. "A Princess of Mars" by Edgar Rice Burroughs.



Because even us manly-men need a love story. But, if anyone asks, you can just say you like it for the story of a US Civil War veteran traveling to Mars and beating the crap out of hideous monsters four times his size. Manly!

Well, I did it. Today I handed in my registration form and fee for my first ever Brazilian Jiu-jitsu tournament. I'll be fighting on Halloween (October 31st) somewhere in the heart of Tokyo. The only catch is that, between now and then, I need to lose 5 kilograms so I can meet the cut-off for the middle weight division. If I were to try to fight at my current weight (86 kilograms), I would be in the light-heavyweight division, which would mean that my opponents would all likely be well over 6 feet tall (I'm a mere 5'7"). So, for the next month, no more chocolate and sweets, and only the occasional glass of beer or wine (I'm not a savage, after all).

At least my training is on the right track at the moment. I did 2 hours last Thursday, 1 hour Friday, 2 hours Saturday, and 2 hours today (today I went to both morning and evening classes). Every part of my body is stiff, but I have set myself a goal, and I think it's realistic. Yay me!

On Saturday, we had a belt promotion ceremony at the dojo, followed by a huge food/drink party at a nearby restaurant. So, to make the ladies weak in the knees with lust, and to make the men tremble with fear, here's a group shot of everyone who came out.


Damn, we're a good looking bunch of men in pajamas.

Well, apparently it's National Literacy Month in America, and even though I a) am not American, and b) never even learned how to read (cue Lifetime-network soft-focus camera, and weepy musical score as the camera focuses in on a single tear drop rolling down my cheek), I thought I would take a shot at this little reading survey that has been making it's way around my friends' blogs.

So, prepared to be literated!

1. One book that changed your life?

Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughter House Five. I read it for the first time when I was 15. There's a chapter in it where the narrator goes to visit and old war buddy, and the buddy's wife gets upset because the narrator is planning to write a book about his war experiences. It was the first time I realized that fact and fiction could be mixed into a single work, and it completely changed how I thought about writing, and reading for that matter.

2. One book you have read more than once?

Every summer between the ages of 10 and 26 I would read the Lord of the Rings, so it's probably the book I have read most in my life (and I say "Book", because Mr. Tolkien intended it to be one work, and the only copy I have ever owned is a one-book collection).

Oddly, another book I have read almost a dozen times is a book that I don't even think is that well-written. Kim Stanley Robinson's Escape from Kathmandu, which is actually 3 fantasy novellas about an ex-pat living in Nepal. I read it the first time when I was a student, and it really made me want to travel to exotic places and go off the beaten trail.

There are literally hundreds more books that I have read multiple times as well.

3. One book you would want on a desert island?

1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die by Tom Moon. But, only if I had my iPod, a wi-fi signal, and access to the iTunes store so I could download each piece of music after reading about it.

4. One book that made you laugh?

This one is easy, and it's a book I've mentioned in my blog before. The collection of Three Men in a Boat (to Say Nothing of the Dog)/ Three Men on the Bummel by Jerome K. Jerome. Now, keep in mind that these works were first published in 1889 and 1900, respectively, and they still made me genuinely laugh out loud, sometimes to the point where I'd have to stop reading to collect myself.


5.  One book that made you cry?

Mary Doria Russell's The Sparrow, when we finally learn the tragic misunderstanding that led to the main character's, ummm, "alteration" (I'm trying to be vague, because it's one of my favorite novels and I wouldn't want to spoil it for you, if you've never read it).

6. One book you wish you had written?

Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson. Because, his writing style in that novel and his quirky take on reality are really near to my own, so I know that, no matter how good my first novel is, it will still pale in comparison to Snow Crash. You bastard, Neal!

7.  One book you wish had never been written?

Rendezvous with Rama II. Arthur C. Clarke's classic novel Rendezvous With Rama has arguably the best ending of any Science Fiction novel --an ending that is so perfect and open-ended to make you think "Woah, us humans mean nothing in the grand scheme of things." So, when Mr. Clarke spun it off into a series 20 years later (mostly written by someone else, no less) I was gutted. It's like the new Star Wars movies. You try to pretend that they don't exist, but even watching Empire Strikes Back again, a small part of you will always be thinking "Darth Vader came to be standing here declaring his fatherhood, years after spending time with a brain-damaged Rastafarian named Jar-Jar". The new Rama novels have forever tainted my love of the original. Damn you, Mr. Clarke!