Another productive few days. I’ve managed to make it to the 70-page mark in the first draft of The Apocalypse Corpse. It’s amazing what you can get done when The Child naps.

I’m not stopping to polish anything — I’ll do that later — but I’m happy with the way it’s coming together so far. I still don’t want to give away too much, but I will tell you the narrator (yes, it’s another first-person extravaganza) is a repo man with amnesia.

Today’s research had me looking at distributor websites for coroner equipment. Dear gods, why do they have ladles? Some people have scary jobs….

OK, off for a stiff drink now.

I’ve started writing a new novel, The Apocalypse Corpse. I’ve written about 50 pages since the beginning of the new year, which is lightning speed for me. (The last book took years. And years.) But I plotted this one out ahead of time, rather than during the writing, so hopefully that’ll make a difference.

I’ll let you know what it’s about when I have more written. Don’t want to jinx myself by talking about it too much now. But I will reveal that my research this week took me back to the Kennedy assassination and up to the Fallen Astronaut on the moon. In case you think it’s a historical novel, though — by me? Please! — it also visits the Gulf War, waves in a friendly manner at the subprime crisis and gets drunk with Baudrillard. Hey, I’d want to read it!

More to come in the next few months.

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Oh my god. Now I want a latte.

He bought damaged and used sex dolls online. So many they crowded his apartment, lying on all the furniture, taking turns in his bed. He didn’t have sex with them though. Instead he just held them and repaired their tears and dents and bought them new outfits. He was patient and listened to them talk without interrupting. They told him the secret things they’d done with their past lovers. He knew he wasn’t alone anymore.

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Inspired by John Robb‘s comment that Baghdad is the 21st century’s first Guernica. That and Christmas shopping season.

Here’s some of the mental shrapnel that’s been hitting me lately:

– The foreclosure factories: America’s new industry!

– The age of nations is over. The age of cities is well under way.

– I’m not the only one saying we should send people to Mars on one-way trips.

– Watch the next Mars Rover being built live.

– Apache helicopter crew seeks legal advice on killing during battle.

– Dinosaur skull found in wall of church. Well, that changes everything!

– Paparazzi want to use drones. So do divorce lawyers.

– CSI: Microsoft

– Is open-source jihad the first new military theory of the 21st century?

– Courier company wants to crowdsource its deliveries.

The National Post asked a number of Canadian writers, including me, to come up with one word that best summed up their work. I chose the word “apocalypse” for reasons explained in the article — including the fact that it’s part of the title of my new book.

I also considered “simulacra” and “Disneyland.”

I had a lovely time reading at the latest W2 Real Vancouver Writers Series last night. I was honoured to be a guest of the first series, and doubly honoured to be invited back for the sequel. The first time I had the misfortune of following Kevin Chong onstage. Kevin’s a great guy and a great reader — and an impossible act to follow. So this time series organizer Sean Cranbury was kind enough to let me read first — which always gives me a bad case of the nerves. So I was a little rambly, but the audience was forgiving, and we all had a good time in the end. My reading starts around the eight minute mark. I’m not actually tweeting at the beginning of it — I was trying to record the reading on audio but my Cinch app logged me out. Ah well.

(The image is a detail taken from inside the venue.)

I’ll be reading at the latest Real Vancouver Writers Series event, Wednesday, Nov. 17. I’d love to see you if you can make it.

Wednesday, Nov. 17
8 p.m.
W2 Storyeum
151 West Cordova Street
Vancouver

My dear friend George Murray just interviewed me over at Open Book Toronto. It’s one of those different kind of interviews.