Daily Archives: March 12, 2003

Stoppard Adapts Pullman

I’ve been meaning to post this for a few days now:

Tom Stoppard is adapting a script for Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass for New Line Cinema.

How cool is that?

(If you’re as cooled out by this as I was, and you’re wondering how on earth they’re going to pull it off, there’s a rather amusing ‘what-if’ scene about the pitch etc here. And the fan site Bridge To The Stars is pretty decent all around.)

Building Models And Letting Them Go Free…

I’m a geek, which is hardly news to you. I’m a geek who has actually built starship models in the past. Nothing recently, alas (although I have a Lego X-Wing in a chest just awaiting the day I throw off the covers and know deep in my bones that it’s a Star Wars Lego day and nothing can stop me!), because I just don’t have the time or space these days. My Excelsior and X-Wing models have survived three moves in the past seven years, and have always been on top of my bookshelves or on windowsills somewhere in my apartment.

Well, during this move, they finally broke. Not into little bits, either – big breaks that really can’t be fixed without a lot of epoxy, prayers, and about five hands to hold it as it dries. So the Excelsior got tossed last week, and this week when I came across my poor shattered X-Wing, I sighed, said good-bye, and placed it right on top of the box I’ve been using to collect further rubbish.

Well, yesterday as I worked on my article about Disney’s use of SF in Lilo & Stitch (yes, I’ll let you know when it’s published on the fps site – remember fps from its print days?), my little black kitten was sitting on the desk, watching me. I was vaguely aware of her presence — one cannot ignore relentless cuteness — but I suddenly snapped into reality when I heard a soft grinding noise. I glanced sideways and saw Nix, her amber eyes on mine, dreamily chewing on an S-foil, with the occasional delicate nibble on an engine casing.

I yelped and waved my hands, and she leapt away, startled. Then I realised that my fierce protection was unwarranted, since it was in the garbage anyway, and I began to laugh. I could almost hear her wail as she streaked under the dining room table: “It’s only a little more carbon scoring, Mummy, and you did such a wonderful job on the carbon scoring….”