Part one of originality --
The More Things Change the More They Stay the Same
I spent fifteen years in destroyers and frigate in the North Altantic and Mediterranean. Men locked in small metal boxes for months on end -- well, that's very much like men locked in metal boxes for months on end, and if you call them spaceships, you have science fiction. And that's me -- I'm a science fiction writer.
Part two of originality --
Two Old Things Combined Make One New Thing
There haven't been any new plots since Homer sang. But, you can make stories seem new. Cheap trick combine two dissimilar stories into one:
Whar hae ye been, Lord Randall my son
Whar hae ye been, my handsome young one?
First doon tae Rosie's, mither,
First doon tae Rosie's, mither,
Make my bed soon,
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
What gat ye at Rosie's, Lord Randall my son
What gat ye at Rosie's, my handsome young one?
Fish in fish broo, mither,
Fish in fish broo, mither,
Make my bed soon,
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
And whar went ye next, Lord Randall my son,
And whar went ye next, my handsome young one?
I went tae the card-house, mither,
I went tae the card-house, mither,
Make my bed soon
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
What cards did ye hold, Lord Randall my son,
What cards did ye hold, my handsome young one?
Eights and aces, mither,
Eights and aces, mither,
Make my bed soon,
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
And how were ye dressed, Lord Randall my son
And how were ye dressed, my handsome young one?
I dressed as a cowboy, mither,
I dressed as a cowboy, mither,
Make my bed soon,
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
I fear ye've been bushwhacked, Lord Randall my son,
I fear ye've been bushwhacked, my handsome young one.
Oh yes I've been bushwhacked, mither,
Oh yes I've been bushwhacked, mither,
Make my bed soon
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
What d'ye leave tae your brother, Lord Randall my son,
What d'ye leave tae your brother, my handsome young one?
My watch chain and Stetson, mither,
My watch chain and Stetson, mither,
Make my bed soon,
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
What d'ye leave tae your sister, Lord Randall my son,
What d'ye leave tae your sister, my handsome young one?
My five-dollar gold piece, mither,
My five-dollar gold piece, mither,
Make my bed soon,
For I'm shot in the breast and fain would lie doon.
What d'ye leave tae your mither, Lord Randall my son,
What d'ey leave tae your mither, my handsome young one?
A rope tae hang ye, mither,
A rope tae hang ye, mither,
Make my bed soon,
For I'm shot in the breast and I fain would lie doon.