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In Praise of Wives, Paramedics and the Ford Focus
So, we were heading home from
I should say now the stuff I didn’t immediately say when I first started letting people know about what’s to follow: we’re going to be absolutely fine, and so is everyone involved. (‘You buried the lead’ said Peter Anghelides. I might have said I’m glad I didn’t.) Consolation is welcome, but not required. These are the sorts of things the English have to say at this point. I offer this article mostly because I think it’s interesting. And because if I feel motivated to write something down I’m usually also motivated to show it to an audience. There’s comics and other news at the end of the blog, after the Captain Britain cover, if you want to hop past my waffle.
We were only a few minutes from home. Caroline was driving. We were listening to Trumpet Child by Over The Rhine. I remember a thought, from ten minutes earlier, about how terrible it would be for a car to suddenly appear in our path. But that’s not so odd. It’s the way I’m made to have that thought on almost every car journey. I await disaster. Caroline must do something similar, in a much more sunny way, because she’s the sort of driver for whom the speed limit is a law of physics. I remember a steady train of vehicles coming in the other direction, but I’m told that actually we’d just come to a point where a car was waiting to turn, and other cars were pulling up behind it.
A car arriving at the back of that queue at full speed decided not to join the queue at all, but to accelerate into the other lane to overtake it.
I’ve got a single mental picture of a car suddenly being in front of us. There’s a kind of label attached, the emotional memory, which is: this is going to be a much bigger impact than any I have known. It’s like I ran down, in that impossible mind reaction speed way, every collision I’ve ever experienced, all those roller coasters and childhood landings, and concluded that I was going to have nothing to compare this to. My brain almost said to me that it was sorry, it had no idea. There’s no internal reply, nothing that can be done. No time for the next thing, which I guess would be terror. Perhaps that’s just as well. We had no time to tense up before we hit.
There’s an ‘it must have happened, but I don’t quite have it’ moment, and then I’m lying at an odd angle in my seat. Not an angle I’d have chosen to sit. I know my air bag is there, I remember seeing it and the other one, but I have no mental images of them. Which is odd, because I’d have thought I’d register that as interesting. I can’t breathe.
I don’t tell Mum and Dad that bit, when I tell them about this, four days later. But then Mum says that Dad had a bad night in the chalet where they were on holiday on Tuesday night, couldn’t breathe, had to have some oxygen. (This is not an emergency for him.) He was already claiming his general illness that night as proof of the non-causal link he and his brothers have with their loved ones. But he didn’t know about the breathing bit. I offer that as detail, I don’t find myself with a need to believe it.
Caroline says she came out of a moment of nothing and then had tremendous déjà vu. She sat in the remains of the car thinking she was dreaming. (But she hadn’t been dreaming at the wheel, we’d been talking about the music all the way home.) Then she smelt smoke, and realised the car was filling with smoke, and the windscreen was cracked, and she tried to open her door and couldn’t, and she started to bellow at me to get out of the car on my side. Just thinking about that bellow makes me feel all fond and rather tearful. I think I said I couldn’t breathe. Like that’s not a contradiction in terms. She bellowed at me to get out of the car. I opened the door, and fell out, and she climbed after me.
I’m glad I couldn’t breathe. Because it made me focus completely on myself for that moment I was lying there before she shouted, and so I had no moment of fearing for her life. I was struggling to make my lungs expand. After a moment stumbling about, zooming towards what am I going to do without any air, I was able to suck in enough to tell me I was probably going to be able to do it again. ‘Are you all right?’ people were asking me. Loads of people. I think over a dozen had stopped. One man in a suit marched over and, sounding almost angry, gave me instructions on preventing shock, then marched away. Caroline stumbled out beside me, and bellowed that everyone should get away from the car, and everyone did. I weirdly thought that my bag and a loaf of bread and pint of milk we’d just bought at the garage were in there.
Perceptions are very weird. I’m sucking in tiny gulps of air. Cars are moving round things, roaring off past. Not everything about me works as it should. There’s the wreck of another car in the middle of the road, and I can’t see anyone in it, and I have a mental filing card that says ‘possibly the driver is dead, there will be emotions about this later’. But then I hear people saying that he’s there, and magically, dreamlike, there’s now someone stumbling around about the same distance from that wreck as we are from ours. I look back, and comprehend the wreck of our car.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Ford Focus. Now I love that make and model with all my heart. I am going to be its spokesman forever. Its front end has completely collapsed, in the way that only a nearly head-on collision with something moving very fast would do.
Nearly head-on. She’d started to swerve towards the verge.
I’m standing there, able to stand, after something that did that to my car. It looks like it’s been in a fatal accident. We have not. Those airbags and seatbelts and windscreen and collapsing front. My next car is going to be one of those.
I gradually find that I can take in bigger gulps of air. So I’m starting to think: we may both be going to survive. Which is suddenly the best moment of my life. And then it’s limited again by: I might need medical help for this lack of breathing urgently. Adrenalin might be keeping me up. And there’s all sorts of things about me that aren’t right. And I don’t know how important they are. People keep asking me if I want to sit down on the verge, but that seems impossible.
I embrace her because now the bellowing’s over she looks really afraid. Like now she can be. Like now, as the driver, it’s another sort of fear for her when she looks at the wreck of the other car, and her mental index card system isn’t as stern as mine can be.
‘We have to talk to him,’ she says, and leads me stumbling over. The other driver seems as stunned as we are. She asks if he’s okay. I can’t remember what he said. It never occurs to me, before or after, to be angry at him. It’s as if that would take an impossible effort, be so deliberate.
There’s another car in the wreck, but I couldn’t tell you anything about it. We’re told later that the driver of that one declined medical attention and left. I don’t know why, but, in the way that my brain puts together random happenings into character and plot, I’ll always associate that unknown person (unknown to me, I mean) with the man in the suit who marched off. Like that sang froid was something determined kicking in and he was on his way to save the world.
Then the nice lady comes over, and leads us away from the man in the middle of the road, and is on her phone, as many others have been, only she’s saying things like ‘RTA’. She puts us in the back seat of her car, and puts blankets over us. In her car, Radio 2 is playing a documentary on Dusty Springfield, and the thought in my head, being this sort of analytical guy is, will I now always associate ‘I Only Want to be with You’ with this? I think maybe, probably not, and not necessarily in a bad way. I’d really love, now, to find nice lady and thank her. I don’t know anything about her.
Caroline is shivering hugely now, under her blanket. She’s got an injury to her nose, and her lips are raw from where her teeth have bitten them. She tells me I’m the same. We look like we’ve been in a boxing match. I want to tell her it wasn’t her fault. ‘It was your fault,’ I say. ‘I mean, it wasn’t! That’s what I was trying to say, I meant it wasn’t!’ I hadn’t meant for a second that it was. She understands that’s what I mean. We hold hands.
I’m starting to realise that there’s something really wrong with my right hip. I can’t sit comfortably. And I still have that weight on my chest, but it’ll move with my breathing. I carefully inflate my lungs all the way, and it moves along with that, and that definitely is now the best moment of my life. I can’t quite bring myself to believe it. ‘Keep talking to me,’ I say after Caroline’s had her eyes closed for a while. ‘I’m not going to sleep,’ she tells me, ‘I’m not leaving you.’ We both sit there staring ahead, thanking the nice lady whenever she appears, holding hands, from time to time shuddering in bursts that set each other off.
So many ambulances arrive. Paramedics knock on the window, climb in, that paramedic look on their faces. What’s going on here, then? Let’s have a look at you. Caroline is given oxygen, and I start to worry, suddenly, desperately, like it’s now allowed for me to do so, that she’s worse off than I am. With a smile, we’re told not to nod in response to questions, because our heads might fall off. No, they say, the smiles fading, really, don’t nod.
Have I ever told you how much I love paramedics? From way back. From when I worked on Casualty, and got to know some. So many hero stories. Which aren’t the ones they like to tell. Most of the ones they like to tell I couldn’t repeat here. Regular customers they get to know, famous shouts, stupid reasons for being called out, what they got away with saying. A lot of the paramedic tales from the seasons I worked on Casualty were true. As I said in one of those episodes, when everyone else is running one way, paramedics are running the other. They always seem so whole because of it, so satisfied. Not that they don’t grumble, of course. They moan, they mutter, they fume. They do eight shouts in a shift and go home and get the best sleep of anyone on the planet.
Caroline is fitted with a cage around her neck, led out of the car, put on a spinal board, and rolled off into an ambulance. I keep looking at her and nodding at her. A police officer, the only one of these kind people whose name I know, takes a statement from me while I’m still sitting in the car.
The paramedic that finally got me did so deliberately, in that several ambulances had arrived, from both
My paramedic asked me what I did for a living. She has a niece who loves Doctor Who. She has a book in her herself, her own set of paramedic stories. Maybe when she retires. She’s been doing the job thirteen years. Five shouts today. Everyone nice, no abusive ones. I felt comfortable enough, towards the end of the journey, to add that I’d worked on Casualty. I don’t usually do that. Medical staff hate medical shows. Of course they do. And this one just goes ‘hmm’ about it. When we get to A&E at the Great Western Hospital (where my Dad’s been treated so well so often) she delivers me to the nurses, and I don’t get to hear the rundown of the handover, because I guess patients don’t, but she does go in to see Caroline and pops back to tell me ‘she’s absolutely fine’ before going on her way having given me my third best moment of my life that day. Good night’s sleep for that one.
I don’t know if it’s the shock or the morphine that they squirt into my mouth, but although I’m just lying on a trolley, time whizzes past. I scare the other people lying outside the x-ray department with my scream as I have to sit up to get a board under my back. And when you’re being told finally to stand up, to see if you can, is that really not just the most comedic time to get cramp? I’m hopping from one leg to the other, shouting swearwords when I land on either. The doctor and nurses are all excellent. Caroline actually limps over and sits beside me before I can move properly. I get to tell her the answer to what floored her, because the policeman came to see my while she was in x-ray. ‘Tell her from me,’ he said, ‘that she did nothing wrong at all.’ And I can see something settle in her when I do.
So now we’re home. We both have seatbelt injuries, which means we have a band of bruising across our chests, and a dirty great mass of bruise on our right and left hips respectively. Caroline’s got knee and ankle injuries from the steering column, and is going back for physiotherapy. I seem to have wrenched the muscles in my right side, so I have a slow docking procedure to sit down, and can’t get up from a lying position without help and the first, second and third worse pain I’ve ever felt, but at least that’s declining each morning. Those who’ve broken bones will be laughing their rugged arses off at my wussiness about extreme pain. You can kind of make deals with the everyday level of pain, knowing how much it’s going to hurt when you reach down for something. But the spasms as you walk along feel unfair. It’s like I have Tourette’s, making little yelps as I go about my business. Laughing hurts. There was a joke on Futurama the other day I still can’t let myself think about. Gareth’s episode of Doctor Who last night is pending action at Injury Lawyers For You. (‘Towering Inferno!’ Ow ow ow!)
Everything we see on telly has a car crash in it. Our Sky Plus list is like the car crash channel, where you’re never more than fifteen minutes away from a car crash. Even going along in space on Galactica the other night they ran into something! What’s that about? And could people and things stop getting near me on the lower right, please? I have an exaggerated need to leap away from that, and that just leads to more yelping.
We were incredibly lucky, in that there were no broken bones or internal injuries. It’s not a matter of luck that Caroline managed to swerve, got us out of the car, made me realise I could breathe. I say to her that she saved our lives, but I don’t think either of us really knows what that means. The other night I bumped into her when I was reaching for something and she burst into tears. She’d like you to know she doesn’t do that a lot, because as I found out, she’s tough.
We owe a lot to the construction of the vehicle, and to so many lovely passers by and police and paramedics and
My two closest friends got in touch within a day. One of them got back to me again by text early the next morning, saying he’d had a dream that my house was also flooding, and that was surely unfair, and we had a phone call in those early hours because I was awake. The other sent me an initial e-mail full of care, and when he was sure I was okay sent me another saying well, I was bound to use this to further my Hugo Award campaign. (Because my two closest friends’ male sympathies are filtered, respectively, through a life of careful duty and the works of Ian Fleming.) So it gives me great pleasure to mention the latter friend in this context. I may wire up the blog to play ‘Hearts and Flowers’. Next time you see him, he’ll be feeding the starving, or possibly head to foot in plaster, injuries sustained while attempting to feed the starving.
My Dad was worried enough to call me during the F.A. Cup final. I slept at my desk for some of last night, because it turned out to be the most comfortable place (what does that say?), and thus took a call from Neil Gaiman at six in the morning. Or did I dream that?
Many, many friends got in touch. ‘Tell me now,’ asked John Molyneux, ‘is the IPhone okay?’ Ow ow ow!
And that’s it, really. Lessons learned… not many, really. Possibly that there’s no point in me worrying about this stuff being about to happen all the time, like that’s an immunization against it doing so. Being glad to be alive is a good feeling.
So, here’s the news bits. Phew, we got there! Hope that wasn’t too much of a sob story.
ITEM! I’m sorry I couldn’t make the signing of the first issue of Captain
http://www.ifanboy.com/content/potw/05_14_2008_-_Captain_Britain_and_MI_13__1
I look forward to hearing the podcast itself, which should be out tonight and available on ITunes.
My friends at Forbidden Planet tell me that they’ve had a very high number of subscription requests, and the issue seems to have sold out in
Here’s an interview I’ve just done with Comic Book Resources, including a couple of pages of art from issue two. That’s Tink from Wisdom, in her battle armour:
http://comicbookresources.com/?page=article&id=16432
ITEM! I’ve contributed a short piece to Flood, a downloadable charity comic, all proceeds from which are donated to the British Red Cross:
http://adgros.blogspot.com/2008/05/flood-available-to-download-today.html
It costs £3.75, and is well worth it, sorry my bit sounds so miserable, it didn’t at the time!
ITEM! The DFC is a new British weekly comic for children, available only through subscription, and out soon. This is something everyone in the industry over here should get behind:
Because it may be the way of the future.
ITEM! I’d like to say something in support of Benjamin Ong Pang Kean, the staffer at Newsarama who interviewed me about Cap the other day. He framed a question about our Muslim character, Faiza Hussain, in a flippantly stereotypical way, using the word ‘Jihad’ like it was a synonym for ‘like, totally pwned’. I reacted negatively and brusquely and moved on, saying I’d nearly said something much ruder in reply, but then finished the interview. I didn’t expect that question and reply to appear in the interview itself, but it did, and it’s caused vast tumult. Benjamin’s boss has apologised on Newsarama’s behalf. I haven’t commented in public up until now, because I’m not the injured party. Various Muslim folk, who are the injured parties, have appeared in comments sections, and often they’ve reacted the same way I did: oh for goodness sake, but let’s move on. Although, understandably, several have been much angrier than that. It’s true that Benjamin said something awful, something really quite terrible, but the context indicates it was rattled off in a punchy tone of voice and then posted in ignorance. Now, ignorance is a huge and hideous part of racism. Ignorance isn’t a defence. But it’s not synonymous with real bigotry. I know I’ve said really quite terrible things, posted really quite terrible things online, and then regretted them minutes later. I’m sure you have too. And I’m sure a lot of the people calling for Benjamin’s job have. I’d like to see him able to put his head back up over the parapet and talk with the Muslim folk in the comments lists, and for the rest of us to shove off and leave them to it. As you might imagine, I’m going to be screening comments on this bit pretty damn carefully: you’d better be either very erudite or very peaceful.
ITEM! I really enjoyed the Bristol Comics Expo, getting the chance to see a lot of old friends, and to be on a panel with Alan Davis, Mark Farmer and Laurence ‘The Punisher’ Campbell. While I was there I did a few interviews, first up being this one with Comic News Insider:
http://cni.libsyn.com/index.php?post_id=339129
ITEM! Geoff Ryman informs me of some SFnal pleasures at Jodrell Bank in June, including a Brian Aldiss interview:
http://www.jb.man.ac.uk/visitorcentre/events/2008_first_move_2.html
ITEM! Claire Weaver, an acquaintance of mine, but possibly better known to you as a Clarke Award judge, doyen of the British SF scene and SF short story writer, has recently gained a place on the screenwriting course at the American Film Institute. Tutorial fees are high, and her visa restrictions prevent her from working over there, so she’s raising money to support her cause. I’m intending to do more to help (possibly some sponsored something… word rate over a week, signing, sitting up… any ideas, anything you lot could join in with?) but for now there’s a button on her website that lets you chuck a fiver at her. I for one welcome it:
http://claireweaver.blogspot.com/
And that’s that. Until the next time, ow. And Cheerio.
Labels:
Bristol Comics Expo,
Captain Britain,
Car crash,
Claire Weaver,
Comics,
Ford Focus,
SF
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Yeow! Just very glad that you and Caroline are OK. Take it easy.
Hope you're both better soon. This reaction to things is normal and does go with time.
Following on from the Summer Loveliness blog entry and your mention of The Unicorn & the Wasp in this one, how does Gareth's depiction of the vicar as the one 'whodunnit' fit in with your opinion on the way priests are portrayed on TV? I assume it doesn't count, simply because there aren't many "who is the killer alien wasp?" storylines in TV history...
Jeepers, how alarming. I'd picked up via facebook that something was up but have been travelling myself so didn't have the details. I had a similar but less dramatic experience a couple of years back - really knocked me off my stride for several weeks, so be prepared to take it gently.
You see what happens when you say that you don't much like the works of C.S.Lewis!!!
Seriously - my thoughts and prayers are with you and Caroline. Sounds like you had a rough little time of it.
In other news - Captain Britain was fantastic - keep up the good work....
.... but get well soon. Both of you.
Mike
www.mikeperkinsart.com
My gosh! I'm so glad you're both okay, Paul! That must have been terrifying. I hope you both heal quickly. I hate to think of you in pain.
Glad to hear that you and Caroline are all right. (Obviously we wouldn't have if you weren't, but anyway.) You seem to be taking it in your customarily hyper-English way. All the best from Jo and me.
Wow. When I think, sometimes, that so-and-so hasn't updated their blog in a while, this is exactly the kind of thing I hope has not happened. So, as a complete stranger who lives several thousand miles away, I send my best to both of you and hope the aches and pains subside quickly.
Ouch! I'm so glad you are both safe and (relatively) undamaged. Your recollections have reminded me very much of how I reacted 20 something years ago in somewhat different kind of road accident.
God bless the paramedics and friendly people with Dusty Springfield documentaries on their radio and warm blankets in their possession.
Holy Schnykies. I was only logging in to say how much I'm liking 'Primeval'... your episode was the first one I saw a few weeks ago. You met a real woolly mammoth on the motorway. Now they seem to have discovered the Fendahl... Best of luck and getting better!
Take things easy, these sorts of thing do take some time to get over, physically and mentally. On a happier note, previews for Cap Britain and MI:13 2 look great, it'll be good to see Tink again
Blimey. Glad you're both ok.
Been meaning to drop by and let you know I thought Captain Britain was awesome, but still haven't quite found the words. Apart from "awesome" I guess. Which misses some of the nuances of what I'm trying to say...
Glad you and C are OK x
That was a great telling of some lousy stuff. I'm glad to have read it, gladder still it had no horrible endings.
Wow! =8oO
I was going to say "sorry I missed you at Proud Lion after all that exited build-up, but I was having a rather a gloomy evening". But now I guess I don't have to.
As methods of making me not feel guilty go, though, this does seem a little extreme... =8o\
Very carefully applied [HUGS] to you both.
(Sorry if this turns up twice: Seems to be a glitch in my OpenID processing at present. [DOES ARCANE THINGS WITH NoSCript SETTINGS] )
Ouch, not nice. Get well soon.
You must still be in shock to have mentioned Bristol but not the Golden Champagne Glass. Surely it's customary to thank the academy, etc etc?
Mark
Blimey - glad to hear you're both (fundamentally) OK.
I'm very happy to read you're both going to be OK.
I had just popped in to say I've finally committed to coming to WorldCon with money and everything, but the first sentence in this post is so much more important. Get well soon, and I'll see you both in Denver. :)
- Steve Manfred, River Falls, WI
smanfred at comcast.net
Although I normally avoid being repetitive, I am glad that you're both okay, and hope you get better soon.
I also respect paramedics, especially after they came so quickly when my Dad ran his thumb through his table saw. Thanks to their speed and preparation they were able to save his thumb and his hitch-hiking ability.
And if it was CS Lewis acting out of revenge, you probably would have gotten jumped by a lion hiding in your wardrobe, but I've come to believe that he was the forgiving type.
Good luck, and swift healing.
Oh my - what a thing to happen. Thank God you're both okay. Virtual hugs to you both - probably the best sort right now in any case.
Jackie Marshall
Crikey, hope you both rest and recuperate as best as possible. And you're clearly a far better man than me because when I got run over I swore like a sailor then struggled into work the following day with the worst limp in the world. And then promptly walked into a wall on the way home. Rest easy, Alex.
I really hate that surreal state of mind one has after experiencing an accident, but it does fade.
was in a crash once. I'm lucky I had someone with me when it happened too, otherwise it would have been really depressing going through all of that alone.
(Dark Humour intentional, hope it made you laugh).
You are both *very* lucky - bless you both and get well soon,
Warm Regards,
Ian
Glad you are both okay to tell the tale. Huzzar for new, well designed cars and for Caroline's driving.
Of course, all Alan Garner fans hate C S Lewis, I thought you knew that?
x Sue
I'd like just to add my "I'm glad you're OK!" to the list here.
I'm looking forward to your comic! I've heard rumors (from io9.com, I think) that Neil G. might be somehow involved with DW in the near future?? Perhaps it is more than just rumor?
Take care, and try not to watch too much Futurama for a while!
Glad to hear you're both ok, and just to say that this is an excellent advert for the Ford Focus.
Having gone out with a woman who's had three car accidents in 8 years (every single one of them someone driving into her), when her last car was totalled recently (thankfully while she was asleep at home, it got hit outside), her topmost priority on the replacement was that it had to have the highest safety rating ... and reading a report like yours helps to reinforce why.
I've had a Ford Focus before, lovely driveable cars, and a car I was highly recommending to someone only a few hours ago ...
... please send my best wishes to your lovely wife for her speedy recovery, and take the same for yourself ... and I hope this doesn't put either of you off driving in the future.
Chris
(Orbital, Redemption etc.)
Wow. It sounds like you've had one hell of week, in oh so many ways. I'm glad to hear that the two of you have escaped mostly unscathed, from it all. Having been unlucky enough to have been involved in two very nasty vehicle collisions in my life I can assure you that what you appear to be experiencing is normal, and things do go back to normal eventually.
I hope that happens soon for you. My best wishes, to you.
My sincerest congrats to you on what appears to be success with Captain Britain & MI:13. I enjoyed #1, greatly. Some very interesting seeds being sewn there, and some very nice character moments.
I also very much agree with the other people online who wish that the other Secret Invasion titles were playing out at this kind of level of impact. Most refreshing.
And I particularly like the interchange of the invading Skrull coming out with the now familiar "He loves you," only for John to respond "Yeah, yeah, yeah!". Genius! How could anybody pass up that one.
It's all looking very promising, indeed.
Many thanks.
Blimey- hope you're both ok after that.
Bloody hell. Take it easy :))
(Lilian btw)
Ack! Glad to hear you two are OK! And, from a terminal klutz, I think muscular injuries are infinitely worse than a good, clean break.
Not a Lewis fan, either. I've tried getting through the Narnia books twice. I'm having better luck with the Space trilogy, but got sidetracked by The Sparrow.
Paul and Caroline,
HOLY {CENSORED}! I'm glad you two are alive! Take care of yourselves and get well soon!
Jack Beven
Very relieved to know that you both survived relatively intact. Best wishes and positive thoughts to you both...
Thank goodness you are both OK! And indeed, yay for seatbelts and crumple zones. Hope you are both fully recovered soon.
Glad to hear you're both ok. Hope you both feel more normal soon.
Even the dreaded CBR seems to be on about 95% positive on Cap so your theory on sales may yet come true.
Coming out of my standard lurking mode to tell you that although this wasn't a sob story, it certainly brought tears to my eyes. Your descriptions are vivid enough that I swear I could almost feel those stunned, disconnected, asphyxiating moments the two of you shared by the side of the road. I'm so very thankful you are both doing well.
Glad all involved are okay and I hope you and Caroline feel better soon.
I've just been sitting here, reading, going "fuck fuck fuck"
Hardly eloquent but there you go.
Best to all.
Fuck.
Holy wow. Thank goodness you're OK. (See, this is part of the problem with being an atheist. Nothing good to say when something terrible happens--or almost happens.) Get well soon!
I'd offer to tell a joke, but that'd cause you pain... I'd offer to, I dunno, wire you a hot cocoa or something, except 1) I don't know where you live and would never be so forward as to ask, and 2) our money's worth shite at the moment, so it'd probably get to you as one of those packets of inexpensive instant hot cocoa mix, the kind that tastes like armpit and comes with little mummified marshmallows.
So... wow. I'll just sit over here and wring my hands on your behalf. I've *very* glad to hear that you and CS are okay. Get well soon!
I once totalled my car here in Los Angeles (I was new to the area and hadn't yet learned to tune into the LA Freeway hive mind that broadcasts useful messages such as slow down right now for no good reason!), and my clearest memory of the whole thing was the tow truck guy turning up the radio so that I could hear the sigalert (LA parlance for an unexpected lane closure) I'd caused. "That's YOU!" he said, beaming, as if I should have been terribly proud, being ON THE RADIO and all. I just raised my tear-stained face and gave him A Look.
Did I mention the part about you and Caroline getting well soon? Please do.
I am so happy you two are okay. My thoughts and prayers float across the Atlantic in your direction.
But that's what you Brits get for drining on the wring side of the road. ;0)
-Erik (an American trying to make you feel better by the use of lame humor...)
Glad to hear you and Caroline will recover. Very scary, but I am glad it wasn't worse. My best to both of you.
Glad to hear your both well after your accident. On a happier note, Cap Britain was an amazing read! Mr Kirk and your good self have really knocked one out of the park.
Paul,
Irrresistable forces, immovable objects. Somehow I should have known you'd be the one to find the answer to all that.
SERIOUSLY, glad to hear you and caroline are both doing okay. Try to take it as easy as any creative persons ever can.
Best,
John
Goodness, thank you so much, everyone. I've been quite stunned at the response. Very lovely feeling, to have so many people pop in and say hello. Tristram: I think the whole 'was actually an alien wasp and not a Christian at all' thing makes it not apt in that case. Mark: I really should have mentioned that I won 'Favourite Writer' at Tony Lee's Golden Champagne Glass awards in Bristol. These are more of an anti-Eagle Awards protest ceremony than anything else, and I didn't want to get all negative on that particular blog. But it was appreciated. Steven: see you in Denver! PG: don't believe everything you hear. Sword: I thought of that line at the last minute and dropped it into the lettering draft! I very much doubt this was the revenge of C.S.Lewis: I think I'd have probably liked him as a person, just not his books. Thank you all, also, for the kind words about Cap, Primeval, etc.. I shall blog about happier things soon. Cheers.
Oh, good grief! First you lull us with the brief account of the public appearance, complete with the diffident? gleeful? both? aside about your faux pax in admitting your lack of fondness for Lewis. Then you reassure us you're okay. Then you proceed to prove at length, in dramatic, emotionally effective (and affective) detail just this side of "Father's Day", that you're not particularly all right! And then you apologize, again, for letting us know all this! I mean, modesty and diffidence are one thing, but...but...Paul! Yow!
Okay, let me try to say something coherent. Two somethings.
1. I'm very sorry that you, Caroline and your car were in a rather serious accident, and terribly glad that you and Caroline survived with relatively minor injuries.
2. Despite my rant above, it is a measure of your talent, your level of effort, your honesty and your attention to detail that the best piece of prose I've read so far this year is your account of the accident.
Now heal up, and write something that comes at less personal cost!
Karen in Tucson
who came here to say something nice about the All Things Considered interview, but that is no longer a priority
So very happy to hear that you're both going to be okay - may you mend before you know it.
Oh no, how awful, glad you and your wife made it out relatively ok. Take it easy and don't stress too much, and don't forget, PAINKILLERS are our friends in this kind of thing.
Keeping you and your wife in my prayers for a smooth recovery.
Zoomed over from the Doctor Who forum to say: Ouch! Very glad you're both ok, and best wishes for a speedy recovery!
Best wishes to you and Caroline Paul. Make sure that Mr Moffat gives you a nice big juicy writing gig on his new show.
Glad to hear you're both relatively intact - best wishes and hopes for speedy recoveries for both of you.
You get along with Moffat all right... don't you?
Paul-
Wow I'm glad you and your partner are okay. As someone whose close family members have been involved in car accidents, shock and delayed reactions are normal for months afterwards. Take care of yourselves you two and don't be afraid to ask for help.
On a happier note, it's great that Moffat is now the executive producer of DW. Any chance that you will be one of the chief writers for season 5..(pretty please)?
My Dad, who has loved cars since childhood, had a bumper sticker when I was a kid in the '80's that said, "I'd rather push a Ford than drive a Chevy." I'm glad that your Ford kept you safe. May you both feel better soon!
Like the rest - oh, please heal up soon, both of ya! (Ow... and that's a scary story framing your ow's too!..)
very late here but jeepers!
Heal soon both.
Yikes, Paul, that's dreadful and marvelous news.
To validate your experiences:
I had the same airbag-amnesiac moments at my automobile accident some years ago. I assume I lost consciousness...however, I've always wondered if I actually remained conscious, but those moments didn't get saved to long- or short-term memory.
On the matter of sprains (or worse), I broke a rib this past March, and as you wrote, in the early stages of mending I would emit involuntary yips, yelps and grunts at irregular intervals. It was disconcerting enough while alone, but in public - I promise you this is true! - I would apologise and solemnly "admit" (to friends and family) to Tourette's. It's the neatest summarization, as you've clearly discovered for yourself. The absurdity somehow diminishes the awkwardness. (PC disclaimer: I only said it to friends and family -- for a deliberate comic effect.)
I am so sorry that you and your wife are suffering. I do hope that you'll are recovering and will soon be enjoying pain-free laughter once again!
So glad you are both ok after your frightening crash. You really expressed the utter weirdness of living through something like that (as I have too)- events do seem dream-like and disjointed don't they...and in a strange way quite beautiful after the event - if that makes sense?
Anyway - take things easy for a while Paul - and you are both in my prayers.
Lee x
Shit... glad to hear you're both okay.
Ohmigod. Wishing you and Caroline a swift recovery. It's a testament to your inner strength that you still manage to write funny comments when writing about such a traumatic experience. And you didn't say how well the iPhone fared? :)
Paul,
You're the only person I know who can have a near fatal RTA and then make it witty. Seriously, trying not to laugh when someone you know is describing that kind of experience causes its own brand of injury.
Hopefully the main bruising should be starting to subside now (speaking from experience now as the filling in a three car shunt sandwich) and I'm so glad to hear that you are both, generally, OK.
Moffat's news HAS got you somewhat trumped though, hasn't it.... :)
Glad to hear you're both okay, and hope you're making a good recovery.
ouchie! I'm so glad you guys are okay!
Just picked up on the details of the accident. Wow, Jane and I are really pleased that you are both OK and send you our best wishes for a speedy recovery. With the strength in each other that you both have, I think your recovery will be quick.
Both of you should take it easy and put your feet up for a while (assuming that you can and it doesn't hurt too much).
Love the Captain Britain cover!!
Hopefully see you in February
All the best and take care.
Tony & Jane Kenealy
San Diego
Oh my goodness. I am so glad that you are both ok. Car crashes are terrible and scary. That was a really well-written account of what was going through your mind while all this was happening, though. Kudos to your wife, the paramedics, and Ford Focus for helping you both survive.
Paul and Caroline -- Very sorry to hear of the accident that you were involved in. I'm very pleased to hear that you've both come through it relatively OK. Get well soon, folks.
What a ghastly experience for you both. Glad to hear you're okay. Perhaps it helped seeing the Doctor defy death in cliffhanger after cliffhanger over the years. Hope the Insurance Deities smile on you.
Ha, good point Paul! Hadn't thought of that...
Paul,
Glad to hear you're both well and ambulatory, if not exactly comfortable and ok. Car crashes (and other sudden accidents) can really stick with you, and bring unexpected mental bulbbings, so be gentle with yourselves as you go through whatever this might bring up for you. Best wishes to a good recovery to you both, as hugs are simply out of the question at this time.
Vanessa Spady (from the writer's dinner that didn't happen at Chula), Los Angeles
What a story! I'm glad you're both okay. It was fascinating to read your thought processes during the whole situation because they seem very...real. You tend to have the strangest thoughts when you experience trauma, and it's never really what you would expect. I've dislocated my shoulder three times, and I've never seen a TV show or movie accurately depict what that's actually like! Similarly, car crashes on TV and in movies don't really feel like what you described, but I could buy that that's what it would feel like for me.
Thanks, everyone. I'm still astonished by the volume of mail that blog has generated. Karen: goodness, thanks especially. Stitch: I'm past the yelping now, thank goodness. Hello, Vanessa! I normally like to reply to everyone, but it's now become impossible and huge, and that's lovely in itself. Thanks again.
Paul, shocked to read this blog. I only know you tangentially (in that I've followed your career from Who fanzines to Captain Britain and I sold you something on ebay recently) but I was almost welling with tears reading this. How can you make even something this terrible into a piece of great writing - astonishing. Anyway, glad you are on the mend. By the way, I've had a Ford Focus for 5 years, a great car and you've made me feel even safer in it!
Ouch, Paul, so sorry to hear that. Hope you're feeling better soon.
My daughter had a similar car accident about 18 months ago in a Ford Contour. She walked away like you folks did, with bruises and a cracked wrist.
Thanks you two.
Coming in quite late here, but I wanted to say how glad I am that you and Caroline are more-or-less OK. The world would be a poorer place without you. And, on an unrelated note, I loved Captain Britain.
I know that feeling of seeing crashes everywhere. For my part a recent (although different)occurrence means something else is more obviously there too. It was always there of course. I just didn't realise until now exactly how much so.
Or something.
Rest up you two. Best wishes.
(the bug)
Thanks very much, you two. And I think, Bug, that we've both stumbled on the same universal rule. Cheers.
Well, on the plus side, that was the most erudite written account of a road accident I've ever read.
Hope you're both recovering OK.
Thanks!
Yowza -- I innocently logged on to point one of my favorite fantasists to a review of one of his best comics and found out how ferocious reality had almost been -- many blessings to both of you for a swift recovery and a peaceful outlook. Hopefully some small cheer is available here: http://comiccritique.com/st/grevSt601.html
Thanks very much for that.
I'm so glad that you're well and in good shape or else the world would have lost such a fantastic writer!
Take it easy from now~!
Aww, thank you!
Goodness ... I dont drop in for a few weeks and then came back to this.
Cant imagine what its been like but very glad you are both as well as can be expected.
My best to you
Paul
Like everyone, I express relief, but on to the reading!
Got Captain Britain rather late, but I have to say I enjoyed it tremendously (and that's saying something given its crossover element)! Your take on the Black Knight is the best thing here and a good reason to come back, though I'm generally interested to see what you do with all of the UK's heroes.
Just glad to se you are both okay.
It was great seeing you at James and Jens wedding the other month.
Hope you both heal quickly and congrats on Captain Britain I've really enjoyed the fist issue.
Michael
I know that producing a really powerful piece of non-fiction probably isn't a good enough compensation, but you certainly have!
I didn't know you had a blog until Mr Gaiman linked in here, so now is as good a time as any to mention that somebody gave me a book called "British Summertime" by an unfamiliar author earlier this year and it was the single best surprise I've had for quite some time. It's a great piece of work, and made me determined to hunt down more of yours.
Thanks all. Ta, Siskoid, glad you're enjoying it. Good to meet you, Bog Boy! And thanks very much, Dr., it's one of my smaller children, but I'm glad you enjoyed it.
good post