The Best Books of 2011


Soft Apocalypse

1 - Soft Apocalypse, Will McIntosh


The Magician King

2 - The Magician King, Lev Grossman


Leviathan Wakes

3 - Leviathan Wakes, James A. Corey


Rule 34

4 - Rule 34, Charles Stross



5 - Embassytown / Kraken, China Miéville



6 - Spellbound, Blake Charlton


Halo: Glasslands

7 - Halo: Glasslands, Karen Traviss


Fuzzy Nation

8 - Fuzzy Nation, John Scalzi


Machine Man

9 - Machine Man, Max Barry


At the Queen's Command

10 - At Queen's Command, Michael A. Stackpole



Brian Jacques & Redwall

According to the BBC, children's author Brian Jacques, who is most famous for his Redwall books, has passed away at the age of 72. I'm very saddened by this, because Jacques' books were one of the first introductions that I had to fantasy literature as a child, starting in late elementary school and lasting throughout my time in High School.

My high school library was well stocked by the time that I reached Harwood. The first book that I remember reading from the series was Mossflower, the second book published in the series, with Martin the Warrior fighting against the evil Tsarmina in the castle Kotir, where he frees Mossflower from tyrany. The stories were clearcut, easy to read and no matter how many times I revisited them, I was always entertained by their stories and characters.

There were a number of favorites in the series for me: Mariel of Redwall and The Bellmaker stand out, as well as Mattimeo, The Pearls of Lutra, The Long Patrol, Marlfox, and Lord Brocktree, not to mention the book that started it all: Redwall. But, of all of the stories, Mossflower has long remained a favorite read.

What impressed me the most in the series was the interconnected nature of Jacques' world. The books were published outside of a timeline, and as new books came out, they typically visited different parts of the story's overall chronology. Characters that I read about in one book had become myth or legend in the following, giving an impressive sense of scale for the series, which probably left the biggest impression on me as I began to read fantasy.

Redwall was a series that I eventually phased out of my reading as I got older and found new things to read. As new Redwall books came out, I began to realize that there really wasn't anything new from book to book: the same formula, dialogue and largely - heroic characters - which came into conflict with other things that I was reading that allowed for more variety, and more ambiguity to the characters and plotlines.

I've never looked back on the series since High School, but I've never forgotten that had I not read Redwall as much as I did, I may never have gotten into other speculative fiction books: Harry PotterThe series came towards the end of the Redwall books. This was also at the same time that I started reading the classics of science fiction: Dune and Foundation, I, Robot and Starship Troopers,

The Redwall stories are pivotal novels, perfect for that age: full of adventure, heroic characters and rich worlds, they have an absolute moral compass, but exist outside of the normal conventions: religion doesn't muddy the waters here, and the reliance isn't on the magic or the instruments of the world (in most cases), but on the superb characters themselves that Jacques created.

With his death, the world is missing one excellent storyteller, and for that, I'm saddened, because the stories that he told were the ones that needed to be told: right verses wrong, and that even the meek can go on to become something great, even legendary.

Geek Things of 2010

















































Revisiting Harry Potter

In 2007, I worked at the Berlin Mall Waldenbooks branch as a bookseller. In July of that year, we were able to take part in what was probably one of the biggest literary launches to date: the release of the final volume of Harry Potter, The Deathly Hollows, a highly anticipated book that had people lining up down the mall, and which saw an arrival of hundreds of sturdy white and red boxes with special tape to prevent theft or tampering. In my short time as a bookseller, I've never seen the same fervor or attention placed on a novel's release. My sister, dressed up as Luna Lovegood for the line, purchased our family's copy just after midnight, and returned home to start it. The next couple of days saw us stealing the book from one another, reading it chapter by chapter while we pretended to be ready to release spoilers for the parts that each other had yet to read. We both finished the book, and moved on to other things.


With all of the books in hand, and needing to read something I didn't have to pay as much attention to, I reread the entire series in twenty days, or 3853 pages at just under 200 pages a day. It's a pace that I haven't read at for a long time, as the books that I pick up have changed and my education has brought my reading speed down. It was refreshing, exhilarating and fun and a good opportunity to pull in the entire Harry Potter story within a small amount of time.




Where I was disappointed with The Deathly Hollows before, I was blown away by it this time around. While the book has its problems - the first half feels like filler, while the last half feels like an information dump - it accomplishes what some books have a very hard time doing: saying goodbye to a longstanding story and tying it up in a satisfactory way. The ending is happy, perfect, while major themes on good vs. evil, destiny vs. self-determination and friendship vs. enemies all play out around this. Young adult fiction has been a growing market for both youths and adults, and after reading through the seven books here, it's easy to see why: it's a perfect balance between entertainment and morals. While they seem to shuck some of the subtlety that I appreciate in some of the upper echelons of genre literature, these offer much the same end result.

Tron: Legacy

I first watched the original Tron earlier this year based on several recommendations from friends, and was really hooked on the film. The 1982 film was one that was a neat balance between advanced effects (now very, very dated), action and a decent storyline that had a lot of potential. When the first promotional clips were released of the new Tron, it looked like it would be an interesting update of the franchise. Tron: Legacy is a fun science fiction film, and while it has its shortcomings in the plot, the visuals and excellent score make up for it.

Taking place nearly thirty years after the events of the original, Legacy has aged real time. Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges) rose to the top of the tech industry and then vanished, leaving behind his Son, Sam Flynn (Garrett Hedlund). The majority share-holder of Encom, Sam plays a minimal role in the company, stopping by to prank the board, before encountering Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner), who tells him that he received a page from his long-lost father's office at the arcade. The younger Flynn is sucked into the Grid, and finds that his father had literally disappeared for the past thirty years, and that his creation has grown beyond its creator harboring some greater ambitions for the real world.

Tron: Legacy serves as a good action film, with top-notch visuals and action that shows just how good the last thirty years have been for the film industry. The effects of the original, now quaintly dated, held up nicely for what they were (and as a sort of period science fiction film), and the new entry in the Tron universe has brought together a sleek glass and light environment with better costumes and more exciting and dynamic action sequences. The eye candy alone is worth the price of admission, and on one level, the film is a fun action film that does well for what it is.

Plotwise, the film falters more than I would have liked. Inception this isn't, and while I can make a case for some strong points for stories and allegorical undertones to the original, the fact remains that these films were designed to be crowd pleasers, not something to ponder for years to come. As such, the plot moves from point A to point B pretty quickly, expediently and predictably.

Looking back at the film, there's quite a lot that could have been done: the most frustrating element here is the wasted potential that a film such as this could have offered. Like the original, there's some powerful material here that relates to religion and creationism, for we see Flynn creating his own world from quite literally nothing, alongside CLU and TRON, according to some plan of perfection. Along the way, we see the introduction of ISOs (Isomorphic Algorithms), who manifested themselves out of nothingness. The potential for some very interesting storytelling is there, and ultimately, never followed up on to any great deal of satisfaction. The big problem here is that these elements are all touched on: the father / son angle, the deity angle, the understanding of perfection vs. imperfection angle and so forth, but once touched on, they dissolve into the background as one thing leads to another action scene. To turn this into a truly extraordinary movie would have been a huge leap of faith by creating a radically different film from what we've seen in the franchise thus far, and it's clear that Disney was content to keep this as a sure money maker, rather than a risky investment. Critical acclaim is certainly nice, but it's not bankable.

Disney has a number of plans for the rebooted Tron, with an additional two sequels planned, and a ten episode television series coming up next year, the franchise is something that the company is looking to for revenue for the future. Rather than going the smart route, they've gone the Star Wars route: merchandising, sequels, continual updates and inclusions into the franchise. The TRON world seems like it would be a good one to try out, given the potential that exists with some elements of the plot. The ending of Legacy certainly leaves the door open for some future films and stories to be told.

There's other flaws with the film as well. The director, Joseph Kosinski, is out for his first time with this one, having directed some critically acclaimed shorts such as the 'Mad World' Gears of War and Halo 'Starry Night' commercials, but his style here left some of the action and transitions between scenes flat, slowing down the pace of the film at points, something that shouldn't happen in any sort of major film.

But, this doesn't ruin the film. The pieces are there in the background, and there's a balance between action and story that makes this a film that can exist on a couple of levels. There's far more logic and interest to the film than some of the other science fiction blockbusters out there, and the combined effort of the actors (Michael Sheen is especially excellent as the zany manager of the nightclub End of Line) who bring about some decent performances - I particularly liked Olivia Wilde as Quorra, Jeff Bridges as Kevin Flynn and Bruce Boxleitner, reprising TRON and Alan Bradley briefly. Quick eyes will pick out Cillian Murphy in the opening of the film as well. Plus, Daft Punk helped to put together an amazing soundtrack that helped push the film along where needed, and the duo show up a couple of times in the club. One might think that that's their natural habitat.

More so than the story or the actors, Tron: Legacy has done an excellent job updating the Tron world from the 1980s on a visual and social level. I've liked what the original did to conceptualize computer programs as people within their own little world (which in and of itself has some towering philosophical threads) and it's been used in other works to great success, such as in Ian McDonald's 'River of Gods'. Legacy opens up this world a bit more under Flynn's Arcade, and the territory is ripe for new ideas and directions.

Tron: Legacy was a film that I enjoyed watching. While it didn't move me to want to go back and watch again right away like Inception, Moon and District 9 did, it didn't make me regret that I'd spent the money and time watching it in the first place. While not the smartest science fiction film out there, it's certainly far from the worst that I've ever seen, and I'll be interested to see what will come next for the Tron franchise.

The Way of the Firefly








Horns, by Joe Hill

A man wakes up to discover that he's sprouted horns on his head overnight. Joe Hill's latest book, Horns, starts off with a simple premise, one that unfolds into a wonderfully complicated and minimal story of murder, revenge and the inherent darkness that exists within people. At the same time, Hill brings out a deeply philosophical and intriguing look at faith and Christian allegory.

As Ig Parrish finds that people are influenced by the new additions to his head, the circumstances of personal tragedy (his girlfriend's rape and murder, which he was blamed, but cleared of) begin to resurface as people begin to tell him their deepest inhibitions and secrets. As the story progresses, we are taken deep into the lives of each character, which fully explains and supports the events that send the story moving in the first place. The end result is a literary masterpiece that brings out a rich blend of horror and supernatural with a cast of fantastic and utterly believable characters. Every element, every mention of something comes to some level of significance to the story as a whole, and Hill brings out rock and soul music, personalities, and other numerous references to help support the story. This is a rare thing that I've seen, and possibly one of the best examples that I've come across where this is enacted and works: everything in the story supports the main premise and story as a whole.

Horns is wonderfully complex, yet minimal at the same time. The story jumps around from character to character and from the present to various points in the past, with a dedicated, focused purpose. Rather than wandering off to put together a story of epic proportions (and a story where a man grows horns on his head certainly calls for this), Hill burrows down and tells an intensely personal story, with a small collection of characters who's stories intertwine around a central tragedy. This is storytelling at its best, where there are no arbitrary actions, but carefully crafted story. It's a notable achievement, and I hope that Hill receives due recognition for this: it doesn't happen all that often. The result is a superior, notable book.

This novel is one that left me disturbed on many levels. Rather than the horror being presented as Ig turns into a supernatural being, of sorts, the horror comes as Ig sees what people are capable of as they confess to him the darker thoughts that they've been harboring. At the same time, the events that put much of the plot into motion are horrible, terrible things, and in the way that the book is structured, the reader is conscious of what is likely coming, with a growing amount of horror. This is terror on a level that far transcends a monster or man in a mask: this is the horror of the inevitability of something coming down the line, with no way to alter its course.

Furthermore, there is a residual bit of horror in the ways that people interact with their faith. Hill puts together an interesting look at the relationship between God, Lucifer and People, with some interesting parallels and conclusions sure to piss off any devotee of Christianity, but not coming out as a lecture on philosophy: this is storytelling at its finest, and a story that is possibly one of the more important to examine in a critical fashion.

Horns is a stunning read, for the story, the characters and the allegory, which turns this into a novel holds up with some of the best books that I’ve picked up this year: easily comparable in quality to China Miéville’s ‘ The City and The City’ and Neil Gaiman’s ‘American Gods’.

Dreadnought, Cherie Priest

It’s hard to mention the term Steampunk without also mentioning Cherie Priest’s Clockwork Century series, an alternate history of the United States, featuring all of the bells and whistles that comes with the territory. The first novel, Boneshaker, was well received, as was the short novella, Clementine, set shortly after the events of the first book, while the latest entry in the series (there are two more planned), Dreadnought, picks up the story across the country and helps to flesh out Priest’s strange alternate world. An interesting follow-up to Boneshaker, Dreadnought never quite reaches the same heights that its predecessor reached, nor does it quite feel as unique. As such, Priest brings out new elements to the Civil War only hinted at in the previous books, and tells a fun story, one that is sure to be popular with the steampunk crowd.

Following Mercy Lynch, a nurse stationed in a confederate war hospital in Virginia, Dreadnought is set in the heart of the lengthened American Civil War. Lynch is summoned away by her father, Jeremiah Swakhammer, (careful readers will remember the name from Boneshaker). What happens next is a journey for Lynch that she could never have expected. An alternate title for this book could easily have been Airships, Barges and Locomotives, for her journey across the country covers not only ground, but the staples of the steampunk movement. Along the way, a number of storylines begin to form and collide as the war effort goes forward. A Texas Ranger is on the hunt for a missing Mexican army, while a Union scientist harbors a hidden and deadly cargo onboard the Dreadnought, a Union train bound for the west on a mysterious mission. As Lynch finds herself at the center of the conflict, we’re treated to a spectacle of action and movement as she makes her way across the continent to her dying father.

At points, Dreadnought is very good, particularly once things get moving west, when the titular Dreadnought becomes the main setting and as story elements begin to collide. Each storyline has their own main elements running forward and Priest has constructed a fascinating tale of the war without being set in the war, further telling the story of two sides that fail to quit fighting.

At the same time, however, Dreadnought proved to be a frustrating read as exposition took over in the beginning and end, and as the story seemed to merely drift along the rail road tracks to each major scene, with a host of forgettable characters to fill in the blanks. Where Boneshaker left me unable to put the book down, Dreadnought seems to be the sophomore slump (being the second full novel in the series, not the author’s second novel or story within The Clockwork Century) in the series.

Part of this might stem from the very nature of the book, spread out over a vast continent, with almost too much to look at: there’s a short, tantalizing section on the actions of the Civil War, then onto the fragmented nature of the country, then the native Americans, mad scientists, Texas Rangers and zombies. As a result, the main action takes its time to gather momentum. But, when it does, the book (forgive me) picks up steam and becomes an engrossing read that lives up to the best elements of its predecessors before ending quietly with a quick link to Boneshaker that serves well as an epilogue.

Steampunk has hit some major counter arguments lately from a couple of authors, making some pointed arguments that The Clockwork Century, nor Dreadnought are able to adequately answer. The main point that kept running through my mind during all of the stories was how the Civil War would be approached, and after reading through Dreadnought, it seems that there’s a certain level of the Southern inevitable cause that seems to have survived since the 1870s when it first originated: the South was destined to lose, but it fought the better fight. Thrust into the heat of the Civil War, the book goes in this direction, and as a historian, it’s a little frustrating to see such a revisionist vision come out. (This isn’t to say that Mrs. Priest is a diehard revisionist: just that her book seems to go in that direction)

Whatever the historical feelings are when it comes to this story, Charles Stross brings up a very good point with his own rant about Steampunk: namely that the genre seems far too rosy and nostalgic for the staples of Steampunk: the corsets, the goggles, brass and strange trappings that characterize the movement. Here, the south seems to have largely given up an element of bloody racism, lone women are free to run around the country largely without incident, and there’s really no feeling of the absolute brutality and dark nature that characterized this era of history. While Stross’s arguments miss elements of how history played out in the United States, there are still some relevant points. I would rather have this rather fantastic, romanticized past rather than the actual one, but when compared to our true past, this version feels somewhat hollow.

Keeping in mind that this is an element of historical fiction, aimed towards entertainment, these arguments are somewhat petty in and of themselves: there is no expectation of historical accuracy, especially when there is talk of a zombie army running around Utah, eating the Mormons who have settled there, but it feels like there is an incredible opportunity missed by not setting a story that looks to something besides a romantic version of the past. The reasons for not doing so are pretty clear: when marketing a product that you want to sell, you don’t really want to highlight all of the nasty or dirty elements, much as Apple doesn’t want to highlight the group of Foxxconn workers who committed suicide while building the ever popular iProducts that have become so common play. However, by ignoring these elements, Priest’s vision of steampunk is far more polished and perfect, which calls attention to itself.  But, that’s okay.

Steampunk is a genre that I’ve sought to avoid as much as possible, but Priest’s alternative vision in Dreadnought, no matter how polished, is a fun and exciting story that stands up well within her series, and it gives me no small amount of hope that even with a flood of material, there are still some authors who strive to tell a good story, rather than simply jumping on the bandwagon to make a quick buck off of an audience who’s looking the right way at the right time. Dreadnought is a good book – not a great one – that holds no pretense as to what it is supposed to be, and doesn’t overstep its bounds. For that reason alone, it’s worth picking up and reading. Steampunk itself might be a flawed creation, but so long as Priest stands at the front, I have an amount of faith that there will still be some good stories to be told within it.

A Stormtrooper for Halloween

When the Star Wars Special Editions were released in 1997, I came out of the theater wanting to be one of the storm troopers from the films, and within a couple of years, dressed up as a Storm Trooper for the 501st Legion and for Halloween on a number of years. (And the past couple of years - you're never too old for fun like that). That's probably the reason why I've been listening to John Anealio's song, 'A Stormtrooper for Halloween' nonstop since I downloaded it this morning.

John Anealio has captured a lot of what I feel about putting on my armor whenever I go out to troop or for Halloween. There is an enormous amount of nostalgia that I feel, taking me back to a couple of special moments for me: seeing Star Wars with my Dad in Montpelier, seeing my first 501st trooper up close and personal as a senior in High School, attending Celebration 3, and the numerous troops that I've been on over the last couple of years.

I first 'met' John on Twitter, where we talked off and on about related topics, and when I attended ReaderCon, he mentioned that he would be there as well, and we hung out for part of the convention, chatting about various science fiction things and his music. He generously gave me a copy of his CD, Sci-Fi Songs, which was released a year ago, and features a wide range of topics, from Blade Runner to Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica to Firely and quite a bit more. It's a great little album, and since then, I've diligently listened to just about everything that he's put out on his website. This song, A Stormtrooper for Halloween, is one of his best songs to date, adding to a really great list of songs that speaks to the geek community as a whole. These songs are also not the slicked up pop songs that seem to be coming out, with a wikipedia list of geek topics. Anealio's the real deal when it comes to appreciation of the genres, and this song just goes to prove that just a little more.

A Stormtrooper for Halloween suits John's style quite well - Sci-Fi Songs has a really good, laid-back style that focuses on the core subject of any given song. A couple of songs that it really fits with would be Rachel Rosen, Cylon #6 and The Millennium Falcon For Christmas, all on that album, as well as a couple of the songs that he's since released through BandCamp and his website.

If you haven't checked out John's music, you really should, especially if you're a SciFi/Fantasy geek like I am.

[bandcamp album=3630744838 size=venti bgcol=FFFFFF linkcol=4285BB]

China Miéville’s Tale of Two Cities: The City and The City

The City and The City is the first and only book that I've picked up that was authored by China Miéville, and it's easily one of the best books that I've read all year. The story, from all accounts, is something that stands apart from Miéville's other works as a minimal, stripped down affair. This book was well deserving of the latest round of Hugo Awards, tying with Paolo Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl for the best novel prize.

The City and The City opens with the murder of a woman, which Inspector Tyador Borlú is tasked with investigating. What sets this murder apart is its location in the city state of Besźel. Here, two worlds intersect with one another, two conjoined cities that have long been separated, occupying the same place. The two cities set up a storyline that is highly relevant, as Borlú digs deeper into the crimes that have been committed in order to find the killer, uncovering a vast conspiracy that goes to the very heart of the split of the two cities, and the shadow organization, Breach, that enforces the boundary between the two locations.

The complicated element of The City and The City was this split between the two worlds, and what Miéville has done is nothing short of spectacular: create a profound world, one that touches on some of the most relevant topics in today's society. The book also does what all good speculative fiction stories should do: take a speculative element, and use that to set a story. Science Fiction / Fantasy readers will find that this book utilizes a single speculative element: the split between worlds. A common enough story element, but there's no strange devices, mad science or magic gone bad: visitors from one side to another must take their passport with them, and must learn to 'Unsee' the other side, or they will run up against the Breach, a shadowy organization that steps in when accidental, and intentional breaches occur.

With the backdrop of speculation, Miéville sets his story in motion, and the pursuit of the woman's killer. As Borlú digs deeper into the woman's background, he discovers that her area of study goes to the heart of the separation between the cities, a radical who enflamed nationalists and unificationists on both sides (political groups who sought to unite the two cities) and uncovers a spectacular conspiracy that holds ramifications for both cities.

An underlying strength to this story comes in the world building that Miéville puts together. The cities of Besźel and Ul Qoma recall the nature of places such as Palestine and Israel, East and West Berlins, and Yugoslavia: distinct nations, ethnic groups and political organizations that share the same territory, borders and physical space, but the people's hearts are elsewhere. Here, the separation is a reinforced one, where these societies have been split apart physically. Each city maintains its own culture, architecture, clothing, and languages, and between the two, Ul Qoma represents a modern world, with major foreign investors and trade, while groups in Besźel seek to change their surroundings.

This is where the book is at its strongest: this book is not one that retells the story of real life counterparts, but looks to them for inspiration, while a unique story is crafted around the inspiration that sets the world into motion. Miéville has put together a unique story that takes the bare minimum of speculative elements, while telling a story that is relatable to the modern reader. As such, the book sheds some insights into the mentality of some of the problems of the world: this accomplishes everything that science and fantasy fiction should be doing, and as such, The City and The City succeed wildly.

Miéville's novel is one that slowly unfolds as the story progresses forward. What starts as what appears to be a fairly straight forward murder mystery (abet with strange surroundings) becomes larger as Borlú goes further and further with his case, travelling to Ul Qoma and eventually, committing an act of Breach in the course of his investigation.

The book is not without its flaws, and while the book lives up to much of what it intends to do, I found myself wishing that there was a bit more to some of the elements. Breach, an organization built to separate the two cities, doesn't fully satisfy upon its reveal to the reader, and where there was much discussion about the nature of Breach, and an alternate, third city (Orciny), which never came together as expected, and the unexpected result isn't quite as interesting.

The City and The City is a marvelous book, one that is both fast paced and immersive, a read that I found gripping, rich and easily the one of the best books that I've read all year.

Stories: All New Tales, Edited by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio

"...and then what happened?"

This is the question that's asked by Neil Gaiman in his introduction to Stories: All New Tales, which goes to the heart of what should happen with any story. In this collection of nearly thirty stories, the two have assembled an incredible roster of authors to tell some good stories, and ultimately fulfills the purpose of this anthology, to captivate the reader, and to have them continue to turn the pages.

Built on the premise of the notion that stories should be page turners, this anthology differs significantly from other anthologies that I've picked up over the years, and brings together an extremely wide range of tales from every genre. The result is a comparative library of short fiction, putting together a number of genres, themes and perspectives into a single volume. While it's not the best anthology that I own (Robert Silverburg's classic, Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Vol. 1, takes that title), Stories comes very close.

Short fiction seems to be on the rise, with a number of fantastic anthologies published recently: Masked, edited by Lou Anders, Wastelands/Federations/The Living Dead, by John Joseph Adams, the ever present Year's Best Science Fiction edited by Gardner Dozois and The Best Book of Science Fiction, edited by Jonathan Strahan, not to mention the countless small press anthologies and digital magazines, such as Lightspeed Magazine, that have grown more popular. As a result, there seems to be a relative explosion of short fiction out there, and Stories is one of the better collections that I've seen. By structuring the anthology with a broader mission, it stands out because it doesn't fall into any one genre.

Broadening the focus of the anthology also brings out a wide diversity in authors, from inside and outside the typical genre circles. Authors include Joyce Carol Oats, Neil Gaiman, Richard Adams, Jodi Picoult, Michael Swanwick, Peter Straub, Chuck Palahniuk, Jonathan Carroll, Michael Moorcock Elizabeth Hand and Joe Hill, amongst others, which bring together a really neat roster of all-star writers, which goes to help with the quality of said stories. This isn't to say that a themed anthology is lacking because of the intense focus and a more limited range of stories and authors, but what it does allow is for quite a bit more freedom to tell a number of good stories unrestricted of content. As a result, this is one of the few anthologies that I've read cover to cover, rather than reading through a couple of stories piecemeal. Where Stories is a collection that defies genre, it gains some of the best minds from a broad cross section of writers amongst many genres.

There were a number of stories that I really liked: “Fossil Figures”, by Joyce Carol Oats, “Blood”, by Roddy Doyle, “Wildfire in Manhattan” (which, as a couple of other reviewers have noted, would fix exceedingly well with Neil Gaiman’s own American Gods), “The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains” by Gaiman, “Juvenal Nyx”, by Walter Mosley, “Weights and Measures” by Jodi Picoult, “Goblin Lake” by Michael Swanwick, “A Life in Fictions” by Kat Howard, “The Therapist” by Jeffrey Deaver, “The Maiden Flight of McCauley’s Bellerephon” by Elizabeth Hand and Joe Hill’s “The Devil on the Staircase”. Michael Moorcock’s title story “Stories” is another that bears mentioning: it’s not one that I particularly liked, but it’s one of the tales that has remained with me since I read the book, and has caused a considerable amount of reflection after the fact.

The end result is a book that easily accomplishes what every storyteller should be doing: telling a good story, one that compels the reader to continue to turn the pages and to see what happens next. For a single author to do to this is a good thing: to get twenty-six excellent stories together that do the same thing is even better, and as a result, Stories is a worthy addition to any library of a speculative fiction fan, or reader in general.

I Care If Han Shot First

I saw this earlier today: "I'm a diehard 'Han shot first fan'."

I couldn't care less. Go away.

Last night, the news broke that LucasFilm Ltd. intended to re-release (rererelease?) the entire Star Wars series to theaters in 3D in 2012. There's no further details beyond that, except that the first film to be released again will be The Phantom Menace. The announcement has the usual complaints and accusations coming, from: "George Lucas is raping my childhood!" to "How can they make it better?! Leave it alone!" which evolves into: "Han shot first!" I just don't care.

Re-Releases aren't intended to be better. The usual argument of any remake, reboot, or extra special edition looks to the quality of the film, which isn't really the right thing to look at. In the case of a complete remake of a film, it's a different interpretation of the same story, generally within a new context or with the new technology that's available. In the instance of George Lucas's updates to the film (or the other notable re-releases of Blade Runner, Abyss, Lord of the Rings and so forth) goes towards updating scenes based on new technology, or adding in deleted or altered scenes, generally to better fit with the filmmaker's vision of what he wants the film to be.

This brings me to my point about Han Solo shooting first. I first saw the films with the special edition, but that one shot didn't really leave any lasting impact on exactly which one shot first. The point is, Han kills Greedo. Lucas's rationalization for the switch was that he wanted Han to be a more likable character by making him less of a 'bad guy', which has always struck me as odd: Han still fries the Rodian, kills several Sand Troopers in the spaceport (and later Death Star), to save himself and his friends. Making the switch, then, really doesn't make any significant difference in what people thought of Han. He's the lovable rogue, shooting first or whatever, and the only way to really make a major impact would be to turn Han into a vegetarian and someone concerned with the Falcon's fuel mileage. The same goes for some of the other changes that were made: the run into Mos Eisley, the introduction of the digital Dewbacks, Jabba the Hutt and so forth: there's nothing that really changes the film beyond its aesthetics. Similarly, I don't believe that adding the third dimension into the mix is going to significantly change anything in the film, beyond the visual appeal.

The real question will be: will it look good? Star Wars was filmed in a certain style, and there are points where the new CGI sections look somewhat out of place, and the conversion over to 3D is a complicated, expensive process, and I'm not holding my breath that it will be as good as Avatar's 3D, which was filmed natively. Still, it seems that the studio isn't rushing into this conversion, but will be working on it over the next couple of years (if they haven't started already).

Star Wars is a commercial empire: look at the recent diagram of where most of the money has come from for the franchise, and that's from merchandising, which strikes me as a smart move: it creates an incredible brand that people continually go to for all sorts of different things, from playing with the toys as a kid, to wearing a shirt or reading one of the books. It acts as a self-replicating advertising machine, and looking back, there's been a continual release of Star Wars works since the first movies were released. The prequels in 1997 set the stage for the prequel films, which in turn have been continued with The Clone Wars, bringing in a whole new generation to the franchise, who will be right at the proper age to enjoy the films in the theaters again in a couple of years. In all likelihood, we'll see a whole new marketing campaign to go along with this. I wouldn't be surprised if the live-action television series would follow in the mid 2010s, potentially with a new series of films following that. The long and short of it is, Star Wars isn't going anywhere, and with the attention span of the average consumer nowadays, it's no surprise that the franchise has kicked into overdrive. The franchise is now going into its 3rd decade, competing with films such as Avatar, which James Cameron has said is hoped to become a franchise on par with the likes of Star Wars and Star Trek. Economically, Star Wars has a major upper hand, but if given a choice, would the current rising generation go for Star Wars, or Avatar? I know which, and it isn't Star Wars.

3D is the next logical step in this move, given that studios can make a couple of extra dollars per ticket, but also because I've thought that Star Wars would be a fun thing to watch in 3D, going back to the visuals over storyline. (And if you don't believe me, go watch the prequels again) 3D films capitalizes on new technology, and will make the franchise grow even more: people will still going to go out and see them in droves, no matter the sputtering of the fanboys who can't see that the films aren't designed for broad introspection: they're blockbusters on a military scale, and the studio executives who have kept Star Wars a house-hold name for over thirty years, and multiple generations are doing their job well.

This isn't to say that everything that has been released with the Star Wars logo has been high quality: far from it. The prequel trilogy was lack-luster at best, with The Clone Wars series matching that for the most part. The books and comics have likewise been of mixed quality, but quality has never been a huge concern: it doesn't have to be. (It should be, but that's another argument altogether) The franchise has raked in billions (yes, with a B) based on the material that's been released, under the current formula, because of the efforts that have been made when it comes to branding and its awareness, not to mention its large fanbase. It really has no equal when it comes to popular culture influence: the book that I'm currently reading, The City and The City by China Mieville, just had a main character drop the 'Force is not with me' line a couple of pages ago, and any time that I've been out in armor, I've found that even if a person hasn't seen the films, they know exactly what I'm from.

To the people who say: "George Lucas is raping my childhood!", I say: George Lucas is not raping your childhood. Your childhood was back in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s, and shouldn't be defined by a single film series. Childhood is a series of rose-colored memories that include things such as Star Wars, and the impressions that you had of any film will change with time as you learn and actually grow up. The original films was something that I watched countless times after school, and over the years since, as I've graduated from high school, college and graduate school, has drastically changed as my outlook on life and the world has changed along with everything else. Attempting to hold onto the past through reliving it seems like a sad proposition. I certainly wouldn't return to my childhood, as much as I treasure most memories. When all fails, there's certainly nothing that compels someone to go and alter their impressions of the films, and you *don't* have to turn over that $10-$15 for a movie ticket, buy the next book, action figure or whatever.

With that in mind, a lot of the arguments that people have made against the prequels, rereleases and upcoming rerereleases are essentially meaningless, simply because this franchise doesn’t really need, or really care about what the fans really are looking for in the series: they’ve put together a good product, and it’s something that people are willing to dump a lot of money into. While they’ve done so, they’ve found ways that the films and books have given them meaning, direction and inspiration in life, which is fantastic. But that meaning and understanding that people find isn’t what drives the bottom line: it’s their wallets.  Does it matter if Han shot first? Not really, in the greater context, and even then, it doesn’t impact the story in any significant way. So long as people are continually arguing and talking about it, LFL is happy.

Am I going to see the re-release in a couple of years? Probably. I distinctly remember coming out of Avatar thinking: Star Wars would look pretty damn cool in this format, and I think that the visuals will be worth it, especially on the big screen. Star Wars has always been about flash over substance, and watching the films again in theaters is easily worth my time and money for that thrill. Plus, it'll more than likely mean some prime trooping opportunities for the 501st.

So, don't tell me that Han shot first. I really don’t care; it's irrelevant, annoying and honestly doesn't have that much of an impact on the film's story. There's going to be more Star Wars throughout the rest of our lives.

* Required listening for this rant should be MC Chris's 'Han Solo'.

Andvari's Ring, Arthur Peterson

Earlier this year, I came across a spectacular find in the local Northfield Bookstore. While browsing, I came across an old book from 1916, titled Andvari's Ring, by Arthur Peterson, outfitted with a deep green cover, no dust jacket and gold lettering. Popping the cover open, it appears to have been a rejected copy from Norwich University's Kreitzberg Library, just up the street. Looking over the first couple of pages, I discovered that the book was a translation of a Norse epic poem, the legend of Sigurd and Gudrún, which I had another translation of, by author J.R.R. Tolkien. The book looked absolutely fascinating, and I picked it up, reading it piecemeal over the last couple of months. The result was a read that absolutely blew me away, not only for its story, but because it was a root story that has since influenced numerous others since its inception, providing a considerable amount of insight into modern popular culture.

The myth is an interesting one, and I can't see why the Norse mythology and Vikings haven't become more popular in modern culture, especially as publishers and production companies have looked towards a lot of older material to churn to the masses. The story is a fun one, with quite a lot of violence, quite a lot of speculative fiction source material and a number of surprising connections to other myths and historical figures around the world: Attila the Hun makes an appearance, as does Claudius, Cleopatra, and some of the underlying myths that informed King Arthur's Sword in the Stone to J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. The influences in Tolkien’s works are clear, which should come as no surprise, given the author’s deep level of influence in mythology, which appears in his professional and fictional works.

What impressed me greatly was the role that these sorts of ground zero myths have for modern culture: looking at a number of modern stories, such as the ones above, it's clear that there's quite a lot of borrowing and common ground between stories. As my girlfriend and I marathoned Stargate SG-1 over the course of this fall, there was a heavy dip into Arthurian legend that supplemented some of the Norse undertones with a couple of storylines, while J.R.R. Tolkien's estate has recently released a new translation, titled Sigurd and Gudrún. Despite some of these influences, there's been no major capitalization on this sort of storyline, for better or for worse. Such attention focuses the general public on a subject that doesn't necessarily get the attention that it might deserve, for better or for worse.

This particular copy, coming up on its century mark, feels and looks like a book. It has a small amount of heft for something its size, with an unassuming cover, rather than a photo shopped gimmick that's been informed by marketing and research teams. It's lasted the test of time, and I think for that reason, it attracted my attention as something worth reading.

Andvari's Ring feels like a real book, from the physical appearance to the text inside. There is precious little on the author or any other titles that he might have published, and reading this sort of early material on the legend, one that informed some of the cornerstone works of speculative fiction, helps to further my own interest in the genre. Reading the classics of any genre is important, but going further, into the roots of the subject, helps to put the elements into place, based on an author's knowledge and understanding of what then informed their work. Understanding these root influences grants a far better understanding, therefore, of the subject that's being read. While it might not help with the specific enjoyment of a derivative work, it does help when you begin to put things together as a larger whole.

Andvari's Ring helps to fulfill both functions: understanding and enjoyment, and for those two reasons alone, it's worth looking up. Google Books has a copy, here, and I'm sure that other copies exist throughout used bookstores and forgotten libraries.

Clementine, by Cherie Priest

Cherie Priest had a good thing started with her steampunk story, Boneshaker, set in an alternate Seattle overrun by zombies and populated by the brass, glass and goggles that we’ve come to expect from the Steampunk genre. Taking place in an American Civil War that has run on for twenty years, rather than the four that it actually lasted for, there is a new entry in the series: Clementine, a short novella that takes off from Boneshaker. Priest has continued the story forward, and it proves to be a short tale from the world that she will be continuing onwards with the Clockwork Century. Ultimately, this book is a short one, and is only able to whet reader’s appetites, while not delivering fully on a comparable story such as Boneshaker.

Clementine borrows a couple of characters that were seen briefly in Boneshaker, Croggon Hainey and his crew, who are in pursuit of his stolen airship, the Free Crow. At the same time, Priest introduces a new character, Maria "Belle" Boyd, a former Confederate Spy, who has been hired by the infamous Pinkerton Detective Agency to ensure delivery of the cargo of another airship, with weapons for the Union. The two characters collide when their paths cross, and work together to reach their respective goals: Hainey to retrieve his ship, Boyd finish out her first job with the Pinkertons.

The book, while short, is an entertaining read that tells a compact story set in Priest’s Clockwork Century universe, first seen in Boneshaker, which proved to be an interesting, if somewhat limited view of the outside world, where elements of the ongoing conflict were alluded to, but not seen.

That might have been the better approach, however, because while it’s good to see that Priest is continuing the series, Clementine is constricted by its size – a mere 201 pages, with easily twice that amount of story shoved into it, making it feel like there was much more to tell. Events happen rather quickly, conveniently and at points, the fact that this is set in a Steampunk world is something that’s pushed forward often and the end result feels somewhat forced, where Boneshaker felt like it flowed forward a bit easier in its own world.

The size issue is to be expected, given the length of the novella, but the story simply feels too big in scale to really fit in. Fortunately, the book holds enough to really hold one’s interest throughout as it flies by – this is a quick read, and there is plenty of action and gunplay to keep the events moving along briskly.

One of the points that I found most interesting was the attention to detail that Priest exhibits when it comes to prior historical record and the Civil War, but also social relations. With the Civil War continuing onwards, there is a ripple throughout the country on the impact of the war, which is nicely seen here: race relations, mercenary organizations, military hardware and similar happenings are seen throughout the story, and I have to commend Priest on moving towards the Civil War slowly – I suspect that something like that would be several books in and of itself.

The Civil War is a complicated, well documented war, and in Priest’s universe, that has continued onwards for decades longer than the actual conflict – a convenient plot device to explain the technology and event that happened in this alternate world. This short book reveals just a little bit more to the audience, but just enough to keep people wanting more. The next book, Dreadnought, is due out in a couple of weeks, and looks like it will fit far better with Clementine than it will with Boneshaker.

When putting the two together, I think that Boneshaker is the preferable book to point people towards, simply because it held my interest far better than an alternate Civil War story. There are Zombies (and while I dislike them when they’re poorly written, this wasn’t the case here), strange technology, an abandoned city and so forth, this book didn’t have the same depth, and I’m hoping that that is just due to length.

This is certainly a series that will be popular, and Clementine will be the book that the real fans will go to, to get that added bit of insight into the world while they wait for the next book to come out. It’s certainly tided me over while waiting for the next read. One can only hope that we’ll see additional stories to come out of the Clockwork Century while we wait.

River of Gods, by Ian McDonald

Cover Image

Published in 2004, Ian McDonald's River of Gods is a compelling, complicated and fascinating book that ranks amongst one of the best modern science fiction novels that I've ever read. Set in a future India, McDonald takes multiple, diverse story lines, over several fields: artificial intelligence, mass market entertainment, traditional values and international politics, to meld together a book that pulled me in completely. McDonald's vision of the future is one that is wholly realistic, and I have to wonder how long before 2047 that many of the elements will come to pass.

The book is a complicated one to read, and the book forced me to take my time and really absorb what was going on. Following several storylines, where India has become a divided country, split along loose lines. Artificial intelligences over a certain level of intelligence are banned by international law, while life is run by thousands of different A.I.s (called aeais). Drought has created tensions between the Indian states, and a Hindu fundamentalist leader named N.K Jeevanji has begun to push tensions with his own agenda, while feeding information to a reporter. A genderless set designer, Tal, works on a soap opera that has captivated the nation (with an entire cast of aeais actors), while involved with a secretary for the Prime Minister. Elusive A.I. scientist Thomas Lull comes across a girl, AJ, with extraordinary abilities, while Lisa Durnau is sent into space to investigate an asteroid that houses an 8 billion year old sphere that may or may not hold the key to existence, which in turn leads her to find Lull. While is ongoing, Mr. Nandha, a Krishna Cop tasked with destroying rogue AI systems, faces class troubles at home with his wife, while investigating the possibility of the creation of a Generation 3 aeai by Ray Power, who has just turned over control of their research and development section to Vishram Ray, a standup comedian who inherits a powerful position within the company, with the potential to completely change the world. As the story progresses, each of these separate storylines begin to merge and impact one another, revolving around the progression of an intelligence that is far greater than mankind and the inevitable conflict that that might bring forward.

The dominant theme of this book is the role of AIs in the world. While some books such as Neuromancer have taken their own lead in the early stages of cyberpunk, River of Gods moves forward under its own power and understandings of the world from a far more modern perspective. In a word, it’s modern cyberpunk, and McDonald pulls the concept of modern computing and Indian perspective of Gods, bringing the idea of deus ex machine literally to life, and bringing about a very different perspective on any sort of conflict between humanity and programmed entities. Here, programs are entities in and of themselves (much like the film Tron seemed to portray them), and throughout the high-tech environment of India’s cities, they regulate much of the automated processes that go on (air conditioning, safety measures, automated drones, and so forth), while there is a constant battle being waged against unauthorized intelligences on the part of the government, against the aeais themselves, but also their creators, smalltime technicians and programming wizards who are constantly pushing the boundaries that technology can provide. A murder in the early stages of the book bring Nandha’s attention to one plot in particular, as a pair of scientists with links to various companies are found burned alive in their home, one of the many elements that pushes the plot forward.

River of Gods has a complicated, interesting storyline, one that features numerous elements moving at different speeds, all running together with the same conclusion at the end, much like the film Syriana and Traffic have done, telling multiple storylines to get the entire plot together. The story as a whole is greater than the individual storylines, although there were times, and a couple of storylines that seemed to drop off or not fit as well as some of the others. Regardless, the complicated structure of the book is something that worked to highlight numerous elements of McDonald’s future india, and give the book a richness that made me desire to turn the page and resist putting the book down on more than one occasion.

India as a setting was a refreshing tone for the novel, and I found myself marveling at the rich feeling and background that McDonald was able to imbue into the text. While not a native Indian himself, he apparently spent several years in the country for research, which has yielded a very unique novel, which I hope is the start of a larger trend in the genre. The fact that McDonald has done similar books (Brazyl, set in Brazil, and The Dervish House, set in Turkey), is encouraging that there is material set like this. Another notable example is The Windup Girl, by Paolo Bacigalupi, which is set in Thailand. I’m sure that there are others, and I’m reminded of a panel that I sat in on at ReaderCon, titled ‘Citizens of the World, Citizens of the Universe’, where it was pointed out that science fiction is predominantly slanted towards the United States and other western nations, which leaves out much of the world, and with it, a number of stories. While the aforementioned examples of ‘international science fiction’ has been written by western writers, it’s a step in the right direction, and hopefully with it, there will be a push from consumers for more science fiction that was written locally from various locations around the world. River of Gods provided an interesting glimpse into a different view of science fiction, and while it is something that helps the book stand out, it is not something that was done to provide a sort of ‘stunt casting’ to make it do so. The setting is an important part of the book, which makes it all the more interesting and essential.

River of Gods is a fantastic science fiction story, one that has taken several familiar tropes and twisted them with the culture that it’s injected them into. The West is certainly not the only place with a future, and it is a relief to see that there are some authors who have a very realistic understanding f how the world fits together, with multiple elements and sides that come together at the end. This book is good in its execution, but also in its story, where both have been put together to come up with something wholly unique interesting and exciting.

Opposing Viewpoints

And by we, I mean book bloggers, science fiction aficionados and other assorted freelancer writer types. Earlier today, I had an interesting talk with fellow blogger and podcaster Patrick Hester, (@atmfb) where we had an interesting debate about the role that the book blogging community plays within our little world of speculative fiction, authors, conventions and publicists. This had been sparked by several comments on another blog that equated to: I disagree with Author X because of a) politics b) personal attitude or c) religion, etc, which I think is a somewhat ridiculous attitude to have. This tangentially connects to a couple of exchanges that I've had with people in the recent past about the entire purpose of blogging in general, which leads back to the question: why do we do this? And more importantly, how should we do this?

Science fiction and its related genres are akin to commercial art. As such, they tend to be incredibly complicated works that draw upon numerous influences and elements, hopefully in a nice, commercially friendly package that will sell in numerous units to a willing public and make the publisher just a bit wealthier. Over the course of the discussion that Patrick and I had today, we looked at the ways in which people approached books.

One example here was that reader X didn't like Orson Scott Card, because of an opposing political viewpoint that Card has that vilifies homosexuality and equates global warming to a sort of conspiracy. I vehemently disagree with Card on a lot of political issues, but I'm generally curious as to how people associate a writer and their own personal politics with what they write. In some cases, there's quite a bit of clear influence amongst a writer's works. Heinlein looked towards libertarian viewpoints, for example, and so forth (I've just written about this recently, for other examples). While clearly, there are elements of personal belief within every book that any such author writes. However, the privilege of having an opposing viewpoint does not equate condemning the book or an author simply because of someone's personal politics, especially if someone is acting as a reviewer or interviewer for said author. Books should be judged on their merits, not on the author's personal habits.

In the course of our conversation, how then does one avoid reviewing a book without any sort of outside influence? Should a book be able to stand on its own, completely free from its author's beliefs, offensive as they might be to the reviewer? There's a considerable amount of grey area here, and I suspect that there is no good answer to this problem. As a historian, dislike the idea of judgment of past actions, simply because said ideas don't match up completely with my own. (The same goes for music reviewing. Some bands sound amazing on concert, and recorded, but what happens when you find that in reality, they are some of the most annoying, pedantic, irritating people in the world who don't give two seconds thought to their fans or those who care about those who essentially worship them as minor deities? Or the actor/artist/writer who does the same? Certainly, there is an amount of fanboy disappointment when one's idols don't meet up to one's expectations - I've had that happen a lot.)

The duties of a reviewer, interviewer, and critical thinker are to examine said works. I myself tend to be a curious person, and I find myself wishing for more information about the book. What influenced this novel, or sparked this author's imagination to set these words down on paper? This sort of process is not something that happens completely independent of any sort of outside influence, especially in the science fiction genre. It is this sort of core understanding that I believe is essential to the arts: the drive for understanding, not only of the book itself, or merely for entertainment, but because we relish stories. The earliest stories were incredible teaching tools, ones that undertook the task of teaching ethics, demonstrating to others a slightly easier path in the race to the finish. The better stories are the ones that get away with the teaching before you realized something was up, whereas the bad ones simply expound upon their morals until you throw the book away.

Interviews are another topic all together, and it was suggested that during an interview, the conventional topics such as religion and politics should be completely avoided during an interview.  I disagree with that assessment, because such things are often a major influence on a person, especially in the case of speculative fiction. What are the responsibilities of a book blogger, beyond the usual business of product placement? I firmly maintain that any form of information dissemination is a style of journalism, and as such, has the ability to influence opinion, and has a number of responsibilities therein. As Stan Lee said through Peter Parker: “With great power comes responsibility”, and as such, reviewers, interviewers and critics have the responsibility to weed out the bad and point out the notable. They should examine the influences upon the works that they look at, ask questions and consider any and all possibilities. This obviously happens to a varying level of completion and attention, but reviewers should at least consider how their actions benefit a greater audience.

Thus, I believe that ignoring the influences upon a book, no matter what the underlying values are, does a grave disservice to the author and potential readers that follow. This is not to say that there are numerous books out there that are not worth reading, but that evaluating a book based on a few, selected criteria is not an honest look at said book and story. While I disagree with the opinions of Dan Simmons or Orson Scott Card, that doesn't mean that completely ignoring or disregarding will do much better. Reading and attempting to understand such viewpoints is far better, and does not mean that one advocates such positions.

Beyond that, books, like people, have a complicated genesis, and evaluating a book on a single issue or merit belies the complexity and background that any sort of reviewer should be judging a book on. This, I believe is the beauty of our intellect and abilities to communicate. No single person has a monopoly on what is right, and what is wrong. In the grander picture, we really know very little at all, and denying the chance to learn more or to understand is a poor action indeed.

The Sky Isn’t Falling: Science Fiction as a Genre

Lately, it seems like there have been numerous article and opinion pieces on the state of the science fiction genre, as opposed to the fantasy and horror genres, with science fiction losing out to both and declining as a field. More women make up the total readership, and tend to read more towards the fantasy genre, while commercial ready fiction such as True Blood, The Dresden Files and Twilight have pushed their respective genres towards audiences that are highly receptive towards what they have to offer. Speculative fiction as a genre is not going away: rather, it seems to be growing stronger, with more ties towards the literary fields and with a growing readership. Science fiction is not a genre to be counted out, but it is a style of fiction that will need to undergo much thematic change in the future in order to remain relevant to readers.

Science Fiction as a whole is one that covers a wide range when it comes to themes and topics, and simply stating that the genre as a whole is failing is a rather meaningless, if somewhat dramatic statement. To say that people will stop writing about the speculative future is to say that people will stop imagining what will happen next: that is simply not going to happen. Rather, it is more realistic to assume that some of the more traditional stories might go away as our understanding of the world around us changes: this is a natural expectation.

Science Fiction is a genre that acts as a mirror for the present. It acts as a rare opportunity for creators to examine commonplace issues in a way that it relates to the present; viewing current events out of context as a way of examining them from afar. This is something that I don't believe is new or revelatory when it comes to analyzing the genre, but it is something that bears reminding as people attempt to predict the future of the genre as a whole.

The future of science fiction isn't limited to literature.

Amongst other articles that I've heard reiterated most often is the decline in the fiction that is presented in book (or soon, in virtual book) form. While that might be the case, especially compared to the rise of competing genres, science fiction is not limited to the printed page. As technology progresses, new avenues have presented themselves as methods for the genre to thrive. Content-wise, science fiction is a genre that fits very well with any number of video game systems, and the rise of games with larger story arches, such as Mass Effect, Halo, Gears of War and others demonstrate that science fiction has moved forward with interactive stories that have appealed to a very large audience. I don't believe that I've seen a comparable success with the any sort of video game that follows 'high-browed' literature style to tell a dramatic story.

Similarly, while the same isn't true with films, it's very clear that while they don't win awards as consistently as dramatic films, they can still do very, very well when it comes to earning money for their creators and generating a wide following. One doesn't have to look far beyond Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings and Avatar in recent years to realize that people do like science fiction and fantasy in large numbers. Even looking at the critical reception of films such as Inception, Moon, District 9, and Pan's Labyrinth to see that the genres are capable of being far more than 'just' crowd pleasers, but can also act as an introspective on the problems and conflicts that surround us in everyday life, addressing themes on identity and culture, morals and ethics, just to name a scant few.

Speculative fiction hawks have to get away from academic acceptance.

Listening to a piece on NPR the other day, I listened to Margaret Atwood note that it paid to be somewhat cautious when labeling works of fiction. She herself was caught up in a bit of drama when she characterized her works as being speculative fiction, rather than science fiction, characterizing her work as speculative fiction, creating a distinction between the genres, which rubbed numerous science fiction fans the wrong way, prompting a lot of speculation as to the nature of the genre. Reading over numerous book blogs and talking with fellow readers, it's clear that there is a large rift amongst people as to how to accept science fiction.

Science fiction seems to largely be unclaimed by the literary academic fields, dismissed from major awards on numerous grounds. I noted the bitterness in an acquaintance's words that a literary award was left devoid of science fiction and fantasy works, and I have had to wonder there is such attention paid to the status of the genre in these fields as other books have gained considerable attention in the mass media, such as Cormic McCarthy's post-apocalyptic The Road to Lev Grossman's The Magicians, both of which seemed to fall under a more mainstream section of the genre, while enjoying what appears to have been quite a lot of critical and commercial success. At the same time, other books, such as Cherie Priest's Boneshaker, and Scott Lynch's Lies of Locke Lamora seem to have done very well within their speculative genres, if the outcry of fans over the delays in the third book of Lynch's stories and the quick sellout of Priest's sequel novella are anything to go on.

Obviously, labels matter to an extent, but only when it comes to the marketing of said fictions, which makes the complaints about the literary discrimination seem only stranger to me, from both sides of the spectrum. While Atwood's remarks seemed remarkably short sighted for an established storyteller, numerous science fiction novels that line my shelves are ones that I can point to as superior works of literature, groundbreaking even outside of their own genres. Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials was a series that provided some profound philosophical and religious points for me as a high school student, while Ray Bradbury's novel Fahrenheit 451 provided an understanding and appreciation for knowledge that remains with me to this point. The fantastic fiction that is out there provides argument and understanding on par with numerous works of literature, and I heartedly believe that genre snobbery is something that is largely baseless and short sighted.

Despite the labels that are out there, books like The Road and The Year of the Flood demonstrate that there is a leaking out of the genre to other genres, and one doesn't necessarily have to go to the science fiction section of the bookstore to find books that could largely fall within the genre. The label on the back of the book matters very little, and readers should be more aware of what else is out in print, especially as regular fiction catches up to the present. Given that we are increasingly living in a world that is science fictional, it stands to reason that some of that will bleed into our entertainment.

That all being said, the genre has survived for going on a century at this point, often as a crowd-pleasing genre, and one that certainly wouldn’t attract any academic or critical interest at various points in its history.

Fans need to understand that Speculative Fiction is about change... and it is changing.

If there is any one lesson that Science Fiction as its own, self-contained sub genre can impart, it is that the future is going to present a changed reality for all of those who inhabit it. The stories tend to follow how the protagonists can change their world for the better, usually based upon their actions. (This is a broad assumption, but one that I feel is valid) As such, it needs to be understood that the environment that fostered the genre in its earlier, formative days has given way to a world that has been drastically changed by economic, environmental and political events that leaves the current generation of readers with a vastly different understanding of the world as opposed to those who grew up during the Cold War.

Science fiction of the recent past was heavily influenced by world events: a book such as A Canticle for Lebowitz is one that likely could not have been written in the present day, ground breaking as it is. Fiction generally relates to its surrounding cultural contexts: It comes as no surprise that a film such as District 9 would succeed commercially and critically in today's present environment, whereas a film such as Star Wars did the same in the 1970s.

As such, the works within the genre should be expected to change with times, as our understanding of the present (as well as our understanding of technology and the things that surround us) changes. Works of epic space opera such as Isaac Asimov's Foundation Trilogy and some of the minor space arcs such as Timothy Zahn's Conqueror's Trilogy or Ender's Game fit within their own contexts.

A common argument that has been talked about is that the futures presented in the past tended to be optimistic, with people believing that the future held a brighter future for humanity, which in turn translated into works of science fiction. Today, the opposite seems to be true, and as such, the fiction that tends to look backwards towards better days - fantasy - seems to be on the rise. At the same time, the science fiction that seems to be garnering more attention is the dystopia stories: Paolo Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl and assorted stories, Cormic McCarthy's The Road, and the multitudes of zombie novels that predict our demise in the rise of undead and lone libertarians seeking to preserve the American way of life out on their own. In a way, the most successful form of science fiction to come is likely Steampunk, which presents a darker form of science fiction, set in the past, where readers can feel comforted that their current world of advanced technology (or at least medical science) leaves us much better off than in the Victorian world.

Science fiction isn't dying, dead or going anywhere.

I don't believe that this is the case, at all: science fiction is a genre that has been seen to present some utterly fantastic and relevant stories for readers, addressing concerns of the present day in a twisted context. Looking beyond the artificial walls that genre terms provide, it's likely that the stories that we grew up with are likely going to change a bit: the random adventure in a space ship with strange aliens and laser guns might not be quite as common in the wider genre world, but they're likely to be replaced by stories that offer far different visions and interpretations of the future, by simple virtue of being written and created in the present day. 'Real life' is rapidly becoming something out of a science fiction novel, with hand-held computers, global positioning sensors and advances in all sorts of other technologies.

While some of the subject matter is changing, so to is the mediums that we can see the genre, and by this virtue alone, science fiction and fantasy is a genre that is here to stay, simply because it is a resilient genre that can fill numerous forms. Life itself spreads and survives on numbers, so to does the speculative fiction genres, where massive franchises of video games, movies and tie-in fiction enthralled millions of fans each day, generating excitement at the box office, blogs and conventions, where people look to the next really cool thing that they can take in. In its popularity, it is already bleeding into the mainstream consciousness through any number of forms. At this point, do mainstream literary awards matter for the genre as a whole, or signal some form of mainstream acceptance of the genre? I doubt it.

The Legacy of Star Wars

Starting today, Orlando Florida becomes Lando Florida for the multitudes of Star Wars fans flocking to Celebration V. When it comes to Geek History, the Star Wars franchise represents a formative element of popular science fiction in theaters, and helped to define the modern blockbuster movie. 2010 marks the 30th anniversary of The Empire Strikes Back, and even three decades on, the series gains a considerable amount of face recognition from the general public. Often, when I have suited up in Storm Trooper or Clone Trooper armor, I've found that people might not know what character I am, what film I'm from, but undeniably, they know that I'm from the Star Wars films. With its release, Star Wars has changed both popular culture and the film industry that created it.

When the first Star Wars film was released in 1977 by director George Lucas, most expectations from the production companies was that the film would not do very well, but within the first three months of its release, Star Wars reined in over $100 million, becoming one of the highest grossing films ever. Subsequent releases in 1980 (The Empire Strikes Back) and 1983 (The Return of the Jedi) continued the series, bringing in new fans to the series by expanding the story and pushing the boundaries when it came to special effects. When Lucasfilm Ltd. returned to the franchise in 1997 with a re-release of the original trilogy with updated special effects, and in 1999 with The Phantom Menace, Attack of the Clones (2002) and Revenge of the Sith (2005), it became clear that the franchise had endured in public memory and financially, were highly successful, even it was widely felt that the Original Trilogy were superior films.

In 1977, the first Star Wars film was filmed in a period of time when special effects were still in their infancy. The largest special effects film previously had been Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey in 1968, almost ten years earlier, a period of time which saw many special effects experts who had pioneered effects for that film retired. Thus, Lucas and his crew were forced to pioneer their own effects in motion capture on their own while they filmed the film, utilizing models and cameras together in very new ways. The Empire Strikes Back utilized its own advances in motion capture for several of the battles, and puppetry, as did Return of the Jedi when it came out. These advances helped to lay the groundwork for future films, and in the 1980s, a number of special-effects driven science fiction films were released, capitalizing on the successes of Lucas' trilogy, providing fans with more visual spectacles in the years since.

The Star Wars franchise is a notable one for retaining such a strong core group of fans throughout the years. Much of this success can be attributed to the branching out from the films as the single source of canon story. Marvel comics created their own Star Wars line, while the original Han Solo and Lando Calrissian book series have attained a sort of cult status. The introduction of Hugo award winner Timothy Zahn to pen a trilogy in the early 1990s launched an enormous series of books, many of which have been best sellers, continuing the story with new characters and transformations of the universe. This is after the huge numbers of toys, action figures and other collectables. In addition to pioneering special effects, Star Wars and Lucas pioneered the marketing of a film to a diverse and receptive audience, which keeps them in touch with the films long after they have left the theaters, whether its children reenacting their favorite scenes or readers wanting more stories after the credits have rolled.

The recent release of the prequel trilogy and the ongoing Clone Wars television series is another element to this continued marketing for the larger franchise as a whole. While the prequels don't match up with the originals for fans that grew up with them, it's irrefutable that they have been extremely popular, especially with younger generations. Their creation not only continues (or in this case, adds to) the story, but it works to revitalize the original films by introducing new fans who have yet to watch a series of films that most younger viewers will find outdated compared to what they will be used to with other, current films.

The notable element that this all leads to for Star Wars is the incredible fanbase that has been created as a result. Each Star Wars Celebration pulls in tens of thousands of people from across the world, while millions of others watch the films, read the books and listen to the soundtracks. Entire fan groups have come to life, from's FanForce, to the New York Jedi to the 501st Legion, which has just had its 5,000th member join. While numerous films and franchises look to create a comparable group of fanatics, the Star Wars franchise is the only one that comes to mind that regularly sees groups acting on their own in public, in costume to various charitable causes or fan gatherings. Personally, I'm a member of the 501st Legion, from behind my own helmet, it's very clear to see that the franchise remains because of the efforts that have been made to keep the fans happy with new content and stories.

The original Star Wars film that started all of this represented a number of changes in the way that films were marketed to fans, how the movies were filmed. George Lucas' creation alone is likely responsible for much of the current film industry that most science fiction fans (those who like the movies, anyway), which in turns helps to inform much of the public consciousness when it comes to science fiction in all genres.

Kirby Krackle and Nerd Rock

There is a growing music scene that I've been hearing more from lately, Nerd Rock. There's been several artists that I've really liked: 'Weird' Al Yankovich, They Might Be Giants, Jonathan Coulton, Paul and Storm, John Anealio, The Decemberists, amongst others. A new find of mine, Seattle-based duo Kirby Krackle, joins this genre with their two albums, their self-titled debut disc (Kirby Krackle, 2009) and their latest release, E for Everyone (2010).

E for Everyone is possibly one of the best examples of Nerd Rock, with a great alternative – rock sound that sounds incredibly polished and energetic, with songs about superheroes, comic books, video games and geek life. Within minutes of finding the band’s name on twitter, I was able to listen to a couple of their songs off of their website, and within minutes, I had both of their albums off of iTunes. Of all of the bands that I’ve listened to, they’re one of the more exciting, with a great sound and some fantastic lyrics.

The album starts off with Vault 101, about the video game Fallout 3, with a good kick, but the really good start comes with On and On, a song about Wolverine from X-Men, and his own struggle with immortality, thanks to his rapid healing. The rest of the album is a fairly diverse grouping of songs that is much better than their first album. Secret Identity is as it sounds (about a guy with a secret identity – it’s not specific to any one superhero), Roll Over feels like a party song that references just about every 1980s cartoon that I can think of, while Henchman follows a character trying to be a henchman for a super villain – asking some good questions: what are their hours, and what can they offer for health insurance? – Ring Capacity opens with a bright sound and looks to Green Lantern for inspiration. Can I Watch You? Is a funky song about Uatu and Take it from Me is about Mega Man. The last three songs on the album, Great Lakes Avengers, Dusty Cartridges and Long Boxes and Going Home are some of the best songs on the album, if not Nerd Rock in general. Great Lakes Avengers is plain fun: a character tries to join the X-Men, Justice League, Fantastic Four, Green Lantern Corps, (amongst others), while trying to avoid the eye of the Great Lakes Avengers, who are apparently a disaster, being some of the worst superheroes of all time. The album turns from lighthearted fun to more serious fair with the light ballad Dusty Cartridges and Long Boxes, a sweet story of a geek in love with a geeky girl. Going Home ends E for Everyone on a great note about the joy of attending a convention, describing it in the best way that I’ve heard: “We're on the road, we're going home/To the place where wild nerds roam/With pretty girls and dudes in capes/Going to cons is our escape.” The sound is chalk-full of energy and feels perfect for blasting over the speakers as one drives over to any given convention. For all of those thinking of attending the upcoming Celebration V or Dragon*Con, this will be a good one to start off with.


Nerd Rock is something that I’ve been looking for, and as I’ve looked, there’s a good variety of material out there. The internet is a good medium for aspiring artists, and in a number of cases, there’s a lot of material that wouldn’t normally work its way through the music industry: as people are able to make music on their own, there seems to be a greater variety of music, which bodes well for the larger geek-community. Artists such as John Anealio and Jonathan Coulton both have had success with their own music, self-released, about various subjects in the speculative fiction genres. Kirby Krackle doesn’t seem to have the same exposure to the fan community, but has gone with their own route, essentially self-publishing their music and selling it through iTunes and their own website, gaining fame in their own circles.

The album succeeds on its own because it’s not a gimmick. Singer-songwriters in general are at their best when they’ve put together a song that they and their audience can get behind and relate to: that’s exactly what Kirby Krackle seems to have done with their two releases, and E for Everyone feels like a refinement over their first album. They’ve found exactly what they want to sing about, and people who will listen to, and they’ve taken off from there. This album exudes confidence, skill and some very good songwriting behind the sound.  The duo, Kyle Stevens and Jim Demonakos, have some serious geek credit with them: Demonakos founded Emerald City ComicCon and has penned a graphic novel and founded a chain of comic book shops in Washington, while Stevens has released six albums with other groups. More importantly though, it sounds like they’re having a good time on stage.

This sub-genre of Nerd Rock is a positive thing for fandom: music is a fantastic venue for telling stories on its own (and Kirby Krackle does this with a couple of songs: Henchmen, Great Lakes Avengers, Dusty Cartridges and Long Boxes and Going Home) but is also a good venue for humor, reflection, and something in the music world for fandom to relate to. The inclusion of science fiction and fantasy elements in songs isn’t a new thing: just look at some of Iron Maiden’s songs for music about Dune, Lord of the Rings, D-Day and quite a bit more, but new artists bring fresh air to fans. I’ve gotten a kick out of a number of songs about some of my favorite things, and a new venue for speculative fiction is a very good thing, because music tells stories differently than prose or video.

The bottom line is: Kirby Krackle is on a roll with E for Everyone, and they’re a band that I hope to hear a lot more from in the coming years. In the meantime, they’ve left me with a fantastic album to listen to over and over.

The Original Mad Scientist: Nikolas Tesla

When looking at the roots of the modern world, one needs to not look further than one man, Nikolas Tesla, for a notable example. A bright mind from an early age, Tesla defines the term 'genius', and from an early age, demonstrated an ability for innovation and invention, and would later go on to enlighten the world: literally.

Born in January of 1856 in Croatia (then the Austrian Empire), Tesla's intelligence and intellect exhibited itself at an early age. In his autobiography, My Inventions, he noted that "suffered from a peculiar affliction due to the appearance of images, often accompanied by strong flashes of light, which marred the sight of real objects and interfered with my thought and action. They were pictures of things and scenes which I had really scene, never of those I imagined." He attributes this ability to strongly conceptualize and visualize as a key element in how he was able to invent various things, and early on, was frightened by this perceived ability. From an early age, he began to invent various objects: a hook to catch frogs, air powered guns, as well as dismantled clocks and at one point, fixed a fire engine's hose during a demonstration to the town.

Following this, at the age of six, he attended the Higher Real Gymnasium Karlovac, finishing out his time there in three years, instead of the four generally required. After he had finished, Tesla was stricken with Cholera. This incident encouraged his parents to send him to school for science and engineering, where they had previously hoped that he would join the clergy. Recovering, Tesla was permitted to join the Austrian Polytechnic in Graz in 1875,  where he further excelled and became further interested in physics and engineering, becoming interested in creating motors, a particularly early step in his work in alternate current.

In 1880, he relocated to Prague, Bohemia, at the Charles-Ferdinand University, before realizing that his academic pursuits were putting a strain on his parents. Leaving the school, he sought work at the National Telephone Company, before moving in 1882 to Paris, where he worked for the Continental Edison Company, working on electrical equipment, and two years later, he travelled to the United States, seeking to work for Thomas Edison. In a letter of recommendation from Charles Batchelor, a former employer and friend of Tesla's, it noted that "I know two great men and you are one of them; the other is this young man". This was a rather positive start to a relationship that would quickly sour. Tesla went to work for Edison, who had promised him $50,000 for his work to upgrade and repair generators, but shortly after the work was done, Edison claimed that he had been making a joke, and Tesla, furious, left the company.

Telsa then formed his own company, Tesla Electric Light & Manufacturing, where be began to work on his method of Alternate Current, which he believed was far cheaper and safer than the Direct Current that was used across the world by this point, but due to issues with the company, he was soon removed. In 1888, he began work under George Westinghouse at the Westinghouse Electric & Manufacturing Company, where he worked on his alternating current and studied what were later understood to be x-rays. Over the next several years, Tesla continued his work in electronics and physics.

During this time, both he and Edison became adversaries, with Edison invested in his Direct Current technology, while Tesla and Westinghouse backed Alternate Current. Edison implemented a public campaign against AC power, touting accidents and the fact that AC power was used for the first electric chair. The tide turned, however, when Westinghouse's company was awarded a contract to harness the power of Niagara falls to generate electrical power, which resulted in a positive, highly public and practical test of AC power, while the 1893 Chicago World Fair likewise utilized Tesla's power system in a highly public fashion. The result was a shift from the utilization of DC power to AC power, which allowed for a greater range for power, and over the next century, DC power was phased out.

In 1899, Tesla moved to Colorado Springs (where he was portrayed by David Bowie in Christopher Nolan's film, The Prestige), where he continued his experiments with electricity. He created several methods for transmitting power wirelessly, and in 1900, he began work on the Wardenclyffe Tower with funds from J.P. Morgan, a wireless transmission tower. The tower was completed, but the project ran short of funds, and was eventually discontinued. Tesla lost several patents at the same time, and in the years that followed, he continued scientific research, designing things such as a directed energy weapon, but found little support for his plans. In the last decades of his life, he began suffering from a mental illness, and passed away in 1943 at his home in New York City.

Tesla is a figure that has captured the imagination of the geek community, but is at the same time someone who is almost single-handedly responsible for the transmission of power that covers the nation, a necessity in modern life. In fiction, he has been portrayed several times (the aforementioned appearance in The Prestige is a good example), but is known for his intellect and forward thinking in science and technology. Several of his inventions, such as a death ray and wireless power, are still elements that belong to the science fictional realm.

What is most astonishing, reading over Tesla's 36 page autobiography, is his ability to conceive of projects and carry them out, understanding them almost completely. He appears to have had a very rare gift, one that borders on the supernatural, or to some, some sort of mental illness or disability that allowed him unprecedented abilities. In the truest sense how I see geekdom, Tesla fits all of the marks, a textbook case of following a passion extensively, and changing the world as he did so.