While writing chapter two of my new novel (still no title) I found myself in need of a “celebrity scientist” to be interviewed on television. In a moment of madness, I chose a real one – Professor Brian Cox. For the moment, I’m sticking with it, but we’ll see. We don’t actually hear Prof Cox say anything, so I should avoid a lawsuit. If you’re reading this, Professor Cox (can I call you Brian?), you’ll be glad (hopefully) to know that you’ll be interviewed on television, in July 2024, regarding a successor to the Large Hadron Collider. Like the original, this new collider (which is named ABRAHAM), won’t destroy the world (or even close) but it does manage to do some amazing stuff. Pure fiction. Except for Prof. Cox.
“Hector had never seen Avril’s show before, but the format quickly emerged. She started with a summary of the week’s news, injecting her own thoughts and reflections as she went. Then she introduced her guests, summarising each of them with the same piercing insight that she had just levelled at current affairs. Each introduction was given with the guest looking on from the greenroom in an inset frame, to which Avril appeared to speak. Finally she retired to her chair for her first interview. Tonight was slightly different, Hector presumed, as his slot was pre-recorded, but he was delighted to learn that celebrity scientist, Professor Brian Cox, had been booked – presumably to discuss Hector’s grand project in more immediate terms. He couldn’t have hoped for a better warm-up: with his boundless enthusiasm, Professor Cox would doubtless whet appetites and calm hysteria ahead of Monday morning’s big switch-on of ABRAHAM. The press had already been invited, as had Avril Hill. It looked as though Professor Cox might have to be added to the list.”
Now: what the heck do I call this thing?