
As both of you who have read my fiction are no doubt aware, I am a fan of quantum weirdness. By that I mean the mind-blowing aspects of quantum physics fascinate me deeply. Up in one corner of the whiteboard where I keep track of plots, characters, and sleepy promises I made to my wife, I have scribbled a form of Dirac’s famous equation. Oftentimes I sit and stare at it, trying to wrest meaning from the cryptic symbols. (I don’t recommend staring too long or hard at a wild equation, incidentally: they will usually interpret this as a challenge and things can turn ugly fast. That little spike sticking down from psi is particularly sharp.)
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