conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Prize, Commonwealth, Writers with the genre: Literature & Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Solomon Gursky Was Here'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Solomon Gursky Was Here
  Sam wandered into the bathroom, knocking into things, opening the medicine cabinet, pulling out her jar of Vaseline and holding it up to the light, squinting.
  The bodice of her dress came away from her. Sam peeked. It was still nice, very nice. "Was Moses ever your lover?" he demanded, jerking upright.
  SAM, HURRYING HOME early from the office, changed quickly and made a dash for the pool. He found Philip and his boyfriend sunbathing on the back-yard terrace, sipping champagne. His champagne. "Celebrating something, boys?"
  FOR THE NEXT FOUR DAYS Moses sat in a small stuffy screening room looking at footage of the Watergate hearings, circling sections on certain frames and having the lab blow them up, unavailingly. Then on Moses's fifth day in the screening room there he was, seated immediately behind Maureen Dean, smiling that smile of his, a gold-tipped malacca cane clasped between his knees. Moses fled to the washroom and splashed cold water on his face. He went for a walk. He stopped for a hamburger somewhere. Then he returned to the screening room and sat staring at the frame, sliding in sweat, for the better part of an hour.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He enjoined them not to steal or kill, unless ordered to do so by Ephraim, and instructed them not to take his name in vain. "Six days shalt thou hunt, providing meat for me and Izzy, and on the evening of the sixth day thou shalt wash thy women and bring them to me, an offering—"
  In the days that followed, the women lying with him under caribou skins on the snow platform, the men gathered round, Ephraim told them, "In the beginning I created the heaven and the earth."
  Ephraim enchanted them with stories of the flood, Joseph's coat of many colours, and his ten plagues, the latter tale a favourite of the hunters.
  Ephraim set and mended their broken bones, he tended to their sick, and when a female child was born he would not allow them to strangle and then eat it, and when a male child was born he showed them how he was to be circumcised.
  Ephraim promised them that their seed would be as numerous as the stars above. He told them that one day he would have to leave them, but, if they continued to behave themselves, he would send them a Messiah in another generation. The Messiah, a descendant of Ephraim, would return their ancestors to them and make the seal and caribou so plentiful that nobody would starve again.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Messiah, a descendant of Ephraim, would return their ancestors to them and make the seal and caribou so plentiful that nobody would starve again. "Six days shalt thou hunt, providing meat for me and Izzy, and on the evening of the sixth day thou shalt wash thy women and bring them to me, an offering—"
  In the days that followed, the women lying with him under caribou skins on the snow platform, the men gathered round, Ephraim told them, "In the beginning I created the heaven and the earth."
  Ephraim enchanted them with stories of the flood, Joseph's coat of many colours, and his ten plagues, the latter tale a favourite of the hunters.
  Ephraim set and mended their broken bones, he tended to their sick, and when a female child was born he would not allow them to strangle and then eat it, and when a male child was born he showed them how he was to be circumcised.
  Ephraim promised them that their seed would be as numerous as the stars above. He told them that one day he would have to leave them, but, if they continued to behave themselves, he would send them a Messiah in another generation.He enjoined them not to steal or kill, unless ordered to do so by Ephraim, and instructed them not to take his name in vain.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: AUTUMN. The season of the sodden partridges, drunk from pecking at fallen, fermented crab apples. Moses, in need of fresh air, dropped his empty Macallan bottle into a wastepaper basket and drifted outside. Raking leaves, he wondered what Solomon would have made of all of it.
  One of the journals Solomon had sent Moses some years back had come with a typically irritating note:
  But he's dead, Moses thought, even as the sky above was filled with a sudden roaring, Moses ducking involuntarily, an airplane passing low enough overhead to clip the treetops. Straightening up, his balance uncertain, Moses couldn't find the airplane anywhere. Then it was back. A black Gypsy Moth wagging its wings at him. It made another pass at the cabin, wagging its wings again. Then, as Moses watched, it began to climb. He knew where it was going.
  Watching the Gypsy Moth climb, Moses believed that he saw it turn into a big menacing black bird, the likes of which hadn't been seen over Lake Memphremagog since the record cold spell of 1851. A raven with flapping wings. A raven with an unquenchable itch to meddle and provoke things, to play tricks on the world and its creatures. He watched the bird soar higher and higher, until he lost it in the sun.
  I should also come clean and admit that Captain Al Cohol is not my invention. He was conceived by Art Sorensen, then with the NWT Alcohol Education Program, and the radio scripts I have quoted from are by E.G. Perrault.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The season of the sodden partridges, drunk from pecking at fallen, fermented crab apples. Moses, in need of fresh air, dropped his empty Macallan bottle into a wastepaper basket and drifted outside. Raking leaves, he wondered what Solomon would have made of all of it.
  One of the journals Solomon had sent Moses some years back had come with a typically irritating note:
  But he's dead, Moses thought, even as the sky above was filled with a sudden roaring, Moses ducking involuntarily, an airplane passing low enough overhead to clip the treetops. Straightening up, his balance uncertain, Moses couldn't find the airplane anywhere. Then it was back. A black Gypsy Moth wagging its wings at him. It made another pass at the cabin, wagging its wings again. Then, as Moses watched, it began to climb. He knew where it was going.
  Watching the Gypsy Moth climb, Moses believed that he saw it turn into a big menacing black bird, the likes of which hadn't been seen over Lake Memphremagog since the record cold spell of 1851. A raven with flapping wings. A raven with an unquenchable itch to meddle and provoke things, to play tricks on the world and its creatures. He watched the bird soar higher and higher, until he lost it in the sun.
  I should also come clean and admit that Captain Al Cohol is not my invention. He was conceived by Art Sorensen, then with the NWT Alcohol Education Program, and the radio scripts I have quoted from are by E.G. Perrault.