conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled A Perfect Life about Kirkus, Governmentits, Economic with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction.. End with the sentence ' Among the bogus claims of convenience and personal empowerment, the authors spoof of consumer culture is often funny, and theres an Orwellian verve to his prose.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Kirkus review: A boy is raised to have a perfect lifeas defined by a team of corporate scientistsin this strident satire of a near-future dystopia. In the year 2020, the World Governmentits president chosen by the World Economic Forum, its Congress composed of representatives from the 300 highest earning global corporationsadopts newborn Jimmy Clark as the prototype for its program of offering all citizens a perfect life... The colorful world features driverless cabs, unctuous artificial intelligence, custom-flavored synthetic food, and inescapable video surveillance, even during sex. Plastic forests feature animatronic fauna, and a global water vendor pollutes rivers and lakes so locals will have to buy its products. Substituting for happiness are drugs and an ethos of shoppiness: artificially induced dream fantasies bring crowds stampeding into malls. Among the bogus claims of convenience and personal empowerment, the authors spoof of consumer culture is often funny, and theres an Orwellian verve to his prose.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Salima, Blaise, Simon with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'A Perfect Life'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A Perfect Life
  Blaise was no more convinced when she left Eric's office, but they really had no other choice. And as Eric walked her back toward the cottage, he told her that Simon's mother was not just French, she was a Rothschild, and his grandfather was a baron. And as she walked the rest of the way to the cottage, Blaise thought about him again. He was obviously intelligent and good looking and everything she didn't want in her home. They were two women. She didn't want a man taking care of Salima, or even around her, no matter who his grandparents were.
  As soon as Simon left Eric's office, he took his bicycle and rode into town. He stopped at a house with a dilapidated front porch, and hurried inside. He had told Megan he would meet her there. She was also a teacher at Caldwell and had left the school the night before. And there were toys everywhere. She lived there with her husband and three sons.
  When Simon got back to the cottage, Blaise and Salima were waiting for him. Blaise was slightly annoyed that Simon had disappeared for half an hour, but she didn't say anything as he loaded the heaviest bags into the car. Salima normally kept all of her favorite clothes there, but it was impossible to know what Salima would want in the city, so Blaise thought it best to take everything with them. And Blaise's car was loaded to the gills. There was hardly room for them, and it would be a tight fit. Blaise thanked Lara for everything as she left.
  While Simon was out, Blaise had explained to Salima that Simon was going to New York with them, and that Eric had no one else to send. Salima had tried to object, and sensing it was hopeless, she sobbed in despair. Her life had turned into a nightmare overnight.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Simon called, and then jumped into his jeans while he was still wet, pulled on a T-shirt, and ran to Salima's room with wet hair and bare feet. Blaise was sitting with her, alternately touching her cheeks and stroking her hair, and shaking her and trying to revive her. Salima was deathly pale, and her lips were blue, as tears ran down Blaise's cheeks and she talked to her. Salima showed no sign of life, but Blaise had made sure that she was breathing. She was wracked with guilt as she looked at her. It was the first time in years that she hadn't checked on her when she was home. And within five minutes, the paramedics were there. They gave her insulin immediately, put her on a stretcher, and rushed her to the ambulance waiting downstairs. Blaise literally tore off her nightgown, hastily put on the slacks and sweater she'd worn the day before, pulled on boots, and was out the door with her handbag and uncombed hair. They were taking her to Columbia Presbyterian, and Simon shouted that he would meet her there, as the door closed. He could hear the siren screaming as the ambulance drove away, and he could just imagine what was going through her mind. It was going through his as well. They had been making love the night before when Salima almost died.
  The doorman hailed a cab for him, as soon as Simon got downstairs, and after promising to pay him double, the cab driver got him there in twelve minutes, which was heroic. Simon gave him two twenty-dollar bills and ran into the emergency room and asked for Salima Stern. She used her father's name. He was told she had just been taken to the ICU. He followed the nurse's directions, and looked for Blaise in the maze of hallways and treatment rooms. And he found her finally in a cubicle with two doctors and three nurses. Salima was still unconscious, and Blaise was sobbing in the corner as Simon put an arm around her and she shook him off. There were tears in his eyes too. And a moment later the doctor asked them to wait in the waiting room. Simon followed her in silence, and they were alone in the ICU waiting room. Blaise was grateful that no one else was there when she turned to look at Simon with a combination of guilt, anguish, and hatred. The hatred was for herself.
  They sat with her for a little while, and then the nurse told them that they couldn't stay continuously in the ICU, and Salima needed to get some sleep. Her color was already better, and Blaise was relieved as she kissed her again, and promised to be back in a few hours.
  Blaise left all her numbers at the nurse's station, and the nurse took down the information and then looked up at Simon. "Your daughter's going to be fine," she reassured them again. "Would you like to leave your numbers too, or just your wife's?" the nurse asked, and Simon stared at her, not sure what to say. It seemed complicated to explain that he wasn't Salima's father and Blaise wasn't his wife. He hesitated for a moment before he answered.
  Salima came home the next day, and she was tired but felt almost normal again. The doctor had said it might take another day to feel entirely like herself. And he suggested she stay at home, without running around. She didn't even feel like singing or practicing, which was a sign that she wasn't fully recovered from what had happened. And she went to bed when they got home. She said she was just tired. Simon called Lucianna to cancel Salima's lesson that day, and she was shocked and burst into tears. She was still crying after Simon explained it all and they hung up.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Simon's mother waited until the day after they got home to come and visit them from Boston. Simon's father was too busy, but he promised he'd come to meet the baby soon. The minute Isabelle walked through the door, she commented that they were living like gypsies and she hoped they were planning to move.
  She held the baby and he slept peacefully in her arms, and when she handed him back to Blaise, she spoke to Simon in a disapproving tone.
  The baby nurse and Teresa were trying to get organized. Becky was helping wherever possible. And Salima picked the baby up as soon as Isabelle set him down. It was easy to tell that he was always going to be in someone's hands. He had doting parents and a loving sister, and a grandmother who loved him despite the color of his hair. Isabelle held him in her arms again before she left the next day.
  Simon had given her everything she'd ever wanted and longed for in her life. And Blaise was the woman he'd been looking for and hadn't known it till he saw her. They completed each other, and each was better and had a fuller life because of the other. And with all the humanity that made it special and unique, it wasn't perfect, and they didn't need it to be. But it was very, very close to perfect. It was exactly the life they wanted it to be.
  May your lives always be as close to perfect as you wish them, and may your dreams turn out to be even better than you hoped, with myriad large and small miracles along the way.