Professor Feynman, I. Presume

Experimental Writer

Samual was a renowned scientist until he was made redundant when the laws of physics turned out to be ephemeral one day. He had some savings, although how much was subject to sudden and alarming uncertainties in this world full of unpredictable whims.

However, he decided to embark on a new career as a writer of fiction, having failed in the realm of now refutable facts and theories.

And, like the leopard of yore, he was not about to change his spots (even though leopards were quite often seen on the high street, plainly dressed in stripes, or even piebald like ponies weren’t any  more).

Samual steadfastly believed that the scientific method would still be his friend even if it didn't actually deliver any useful results any more. Hence his books would essentialy be the results of rigorous testing hypotheses though a process of random trials and falsification. Plots that did not make it through this obstacle course would be discarded, as wrong. Any Characters who didn't fall onto a line would be removed due to poor fit. Dialog was ruthlessly pruned of negative correlations.

Samual's friends advised him strongly against this course. They pointed out that successful novelists of the past revelled in romantic inconsistency, non-sequiturs, unlikely coincidences in the extreme, and even absurd conversations with no connection between what different parties said whatsoever.

But Samual was Adam Ant. He would not be put off his journey.

And you know what, he was right. In this new world, where nothing in the real world made any sense from one minute to the next anymore, people were desperate for solidity. Now that God had shown she played dice, and the alleged laws of the Universe were random every day trials, everyone wanted to retreat into a phantasy imagined space where everyone and everything followed predictable trajecories, until they were dead. Which was sooner than expected.