conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a plot for a book about Julia\'s, Seth, Julia entitled The Age of Miracles.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Age of Miracles: Julia is an eleven-year-old who lives in California.\nA few months before her birthday, the world undergoes an unexplained phenomenon called "slowing", in which the completion of one rotation of the Earth takes longer.\nBy the time it is confirmed by the experts, a day is 24 hours and 56 minutes.\nThe hours steadily increase and dramatically alter life on Earth.\nReactions differ: while some try to adapt with it, others, like Julia\'s grandfather, believe slowing to be a government hoax and still others, like Julia\'s best friend Hanna\'s family, believe it to be God\'s wrath and return to their hometowns.\nAfter weeks of chaos, the American government announces the adoption of "clock time", in which the world functions as normal according to the 24-hour clock, regardless of whether it is day or night outside.\nSome people reject clock time altogether, like Julia\'s neighbor Sylvia, and set their lives according to the sun, ignoring clock time.\nSuch people, called "real timers", face discrimination.\nMeanwhile, the longer days have psychological effects on people: Julia\'s mother starts suffering from a slowing-related disorder (referred to as "the syndrome", its effects varying from person to person), crime rates hike and people purportedly become more impulsive (the excuse Julia uses to convince herself when she finds her father is having an affair with Sylvia).\nIn addition to this, Julia\'s grandfather goes missing on her twelfth birthday.\nJulia tries to adapt to her new life.\nFeeling lonely since Hanna\'s departure and her subsequent indifference, she strikes up a friendship with her long-time crush, Seth Moreno, and they eventually start a relationship.\nJulia\'s grandfather is finally found dead after having tripped into his nuclear-proof cellar.\nThis causes Julia\'s father to leave Sylvia and form a better bond with his wife.\nMeanwhile, a thinning of the Earth\'s magnetosphere due to the slowing rotation causes solar super storms to strike the Earth.\nThe resulting radiation causes the syndrome to become more severe.\nAs a result, Seth becomes victim of a more aggressive form of the syndrome that nearly kills him.\nSeth\'s father decides to take him to Mexico, where the symptoms are supposedly less fatal.\nJulia receives one last e-mail from Seth after his reaching Mexico, but soon after, America is hit by a 72-hour power failure due to excessive electricity used to artificially grow crops.\nSubsequently, the government allows electricity use only for life-supporting activities.\nJulia is never able to reach Seth despite several letters to an address he left her.\nThe last chapter skips to years ahead.\nBy this time, a day stretches to weeks and it is obvious that the human race will soon become extinct.\nThe government launches The Explorer, a spaceship that contains memoirs of life on Earth.\nJulia reveals that she never heard from Seth since the last e-mail but still maintains hope that they will be reunited one day.\nThe book ends with her reminiscing about the words she and Seth had written on wet cement one summer day: "We were here".
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Age of Miracles
  So I gave Doctor Brevard a date in April and his secretary called and made travel plans and sent me a first-class airline ticket, which is an absurd waste of money between Jackson, Mississippi, and Atlanta, Georgia, and made me a reservation for a suite of rooms at a four-star hotel and in short behaved as though I were the queen of England coming to pay a visit to the provinces. It was "Doctor Brevard wants to be sure you're comfortable," and "Doctor Brevard will meet your plane," and "Oh, no, Doctor Brevard wouldn't hear of you taking a taxi."
  So now there are two people in love. Doctor Carter Brevard in love with an airbrushed photograph and a thousand-word essay on porches and yours truly in love with being treated like a queen.
  My parents were very interested in this visit to Atlanta. "You ought to be thinking about getting married, Sister," my father kept saying. "It would be more respectable."
  February and March went by and unfortunately I had gained several pounds by the time April came. I trudged down to Maison Weiss and bought a sophisticated black three-piece evening suit to hide the pounds and an even more sophisticated beige Donna Karan to wear on the plane. I was traveling on Friday, April the sixth, leaving Jackson in the middle of the morning and scheduled to speak that night to the physicians of Emory University and their significant others. I was an envoy from the arts, come to pay my respects to applied science. I put on the beige outfit and high-heeled wedge shoes and got on the plane and read Denise Levertov as we sailed through the clouds. "The world is too much with us... Oh, taste and see...."
  He was waiting at the gate. A medium-sized white-haired man with nice eyes and a way about him of someone who never took an order and certainly almost never met planes. I could tell I was not exactly what he had ordered, but by the time we had collected my luggage and found a skycap and started to the car he was taking a second look. Letters can always win out over science. Letters can articulate itself, can charm, entice, beguile. Science is always having to apologize, is hidden in formulas, statistics, inexact results, closed systems. An obstetrician can hardly say, "I saw a lot of blood this morning. Pulled a screaming baby from its mother's stretched and tortured vagina and wondered once again if there isn't a better way."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide five more paragraphs.. Start with the sentence 'A neighbor found them'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A neighbor found them. She had heard the music and begun to worry. April is the cruellest month, the neighbor said to herself, for she was an English teacher. Breeding lilacs out of the dead land.
  Nora Jane lay back down upon her grandmother's body. The sirens were making their way down Henry Clay. The noise of the sirens filled the air.
  Later that afternoon they came to take the body away. Two men in a station wagon wrapped the grandmother's body in a sheet of canvas and carried her out of the living room and down the stairs and put her into the back of a wood-paneled Oldsmobile station wagon and drove off down Henry Clay as if they were going to a ball game. So that's it, Nora Jane thought, pulling a morning glory pod off the vine and tearing it to pieces with her fingers. That's all there is to it, just like I knew it would be. She's gone and this will be gone too.
  She tore some more buds off the vine and squeezed them in her hand and wouldn't let anyone talk to her and went out into the backyard and stood by the mirliton arbor wondering what part of the opera was playing when her grandmother died. I could go in there and find the record and put it on but they probably wouldn't let me, she thought. She climbed the stile that led over her grandmother's back fence into Mr. Edison Angelo's yard and went out that way and over to the Loyola University library and checked out the phonograph record and went into a booth to play it for herself. It was a very old and scratchy record from the collection of Mr. Irvine Isaacs, Junior. Leontyne Price with the Rome Opera House Orchestra under the direction of Oliviero Fabritiis, the same recording Nora Jane had learned to sing the opera from. She sat in the booth and sang the opera with Miss Price and cried as she sang. Nora Jane had inherited her grandmother's voice. People acted so funny when they heard her voice that Nora Jane had decided long ago to keep it to herself. It was a promise she managed to keep most of her life. For almost all of her life she only sang to people she loved or people she wanted to solace or amuse. For nearly all the years of her life she managed to keep her voice to herself.
  By the time Francine got there Nora Jane had emptied the kitchen cabinets of rotten potatoes and empty bottles and half damp grocery sacks. She had filled the grocery sacks with broken cups and half-used boxes of cereal. She had reamed out the kitchen of her mother's house. And called the Orkin man. "I have money to pay you with," she told him. "If you come right now and spray us with everything you've got."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Rhoda walked back into the living room and glared at Ron and the lesbian and went out to her car and drove over to Wheeler Hall.
  Rhoda clasped the letters to her bosom. She was lucky again. Fayetteville was lucky for her. She was the luckiest woman on the earth. She went back over to the apartment and helped Ron and Judy pack up their things. She let them leave some of their stuff in the coat closet in the hall. She let them leave a whole closet full of musty half-clean clothes piled from floor to ceiling in the only storage closet in the house. She forgave them their debt. She offered to buy them dinner soon. She watched them drive away. She took an envelope the lesbian had given her into the house and wrote a check for fifty dollars to the place in Eureka Springs that saved the housewives and almost mailed it. She found the vacuum sweeper. She vacuumed the rugs. She called a housecleaning service and made a date with them for the following afternoon. She wiped off the table. She got her old Royal portable typewriter out of the pantry and set it on the table. She put a new ribbon in it. She found a ream of bond paper and set it on the table. She was a writer. In the morning she would begin to write.
  She put on her old shoes and left the apartment and began to walk. She walked up to the campus and watched the sun go down. What the hell, this was her life as a writer. This crazy town that she had found that had nothing to do with any other life that she had ever led. She was here. She was back where she belonged. She could stay awhile. Maybe she would come back in the fall.
  She hung up the phone. Then she took it off the hook. Then she made a pot of coffee and went to her typewriter and decided to write all night. It was her one and only life. Her one and only chance. The best year of her life. The year her dreams might all come true.