The passing of a science fiction master

Arthur C. Clarke is hands down my favorite science fiction author. As a teenager growing up in Alabama, 2001: A Space Odyssey and Childhood's End not only provided me with my first glimpse at how humanity stacked up against the eternity of time and space in which we swim, these books also showed me how fiction could tackle issues which are so large they send shivers down your spine to even contemplate them. I'm sorry to hear that Clarke has died, but I'm grateful for the amazing stories and perspective Clarke bequeathed to several generations of readers. Thank you, Mr. Clarke, for giving our world so much joy and insight.

Tom Purdom's science fiction memoir

The March 2008 New York Review of Science Fiction contains the second installment of Tom Purdom's fascinating science fiction memoir. While the NYRSF isn't online, Purdom has posted the first nine installments of his memoir on his website and I'd highly recommend them for anyone interested in the SF field of the 1950s and 60s. Of particular interest is episode eight (titled "Doubling Up"), which explores Purdom's adventures in the Ace Double field and the writing of his novel "I Want the Stars."

More singularity and SF discussions

Quite a few comments around the web about my post the other day on the singularity. One of the best is from Jay Garmon at Geekend, who examines my point about science fiction not going extinct. After giving some excellent analysis which I agree with in general, Garmon asks people what they turn to science fiction for: the futurism, or the characterization?

Speaking for myself, characterization is vital to all fiction. But what takes SF to the next level is placing believable characters into situations where the depth of human character is measured against the larger backdrop of space and time. When this is done properly, as in books like 2001: A Space Odyssey, Stranger in a Strange Land, A Canticle for Leibowitz, and The Stars My Destination, the effect on a reader is almost beyond description.

How science fiction and humanity might survive the singularity

As usual, there's tons of discussion bouncing around the web about the looming singularity. Jay Garmond at Geekend agrees with Charles Stross--one of the foremost proponents of the singularity movement--that the shrinking times for technologies to achieve cultural saturation demonstrate both the coming singularity and why the science fiction genre will soon go extinct. Basically Stross and others say that rapid technological change makes predicting the future impossible. Since in their view the purpose of SF is to predict the future, the genre can't possibly survive (along with human society as we know it).

For me, though, these beliefs about the looming singularity aren't all-concerning, at least as far as the singularity taking place over the next decade or so. After that I could see it happening, although I believe cultural issues will play a larger part than most SF authors currently predict.

My reason for believing this?

First off, science fiction has a lousy record of accurately predicting the future. If one looks at the classic novels and stories of the genre, they aren't considered classics because they accurately predicted the future. Instead, those SF stories which have achieved canonized status--2001: A Space Odyssey, Brave New World, Stranger in a Strange Land, Fahrenheit 451, A Canticle for Leibowitz, The Left Hand of Darkness, The Stars My Destination--examine themes such as how humanity survives amidst the vastness of space and time; how we as a people adapt to technological change; how technology changes us; how we might be doomed by technology; how biological and other scientific processes make us who we are.

But accurately predicting the future? No. Science fiction which focuses exclusively on predicting the future simply doesn't hold up over time. So forgive me if I question the predictive powers of singularity fiction and don't agree that SF is doomed just because it fails at predicting the future.

Another problem with the singularity movement is that the evidence for it is cherry picked (as Capt. Zerox mentions in so many words). All this talk about technological change moving faster and faster doesn't factor in those examples of technologies which have been extremely slow to change, such as space flight, artificial intelligence, and solar photovoltaic panels. But I guess singularity supporters don't want to consider examples of slow technological change because that would mess up all those pretty graphs predicting the looming singularity.

In addition, I am not convinced that technological change in the coming years will occur at the pace of the last few decades. For example Moore's Law, from which people extrapolated the groundwork for the singularity belief, is not a true natural law such as gravity or the speed of light. Instead, Moore's Law is a simple prediction based on past experience. There are already real-world constraints on Moore's Law which scientists believe will slow down the growth of computer processors. It's highly likely this slowdown will spill over into other aspects of technological change. And when one looks at the entirety of human history, you also find a fascinating pattern of relatively rapid technological or societal change followed by longer periods of stability. If I was a betting man, I'd place my money on current times being part of a rapid burst of change to be followed by a longer period of stability.

Finally, one major issue which singularity boosters overlook is human culture, which doesn't only refer to "patterns of human activity and the symbolic structures that give such activities significance and importance" (per Wikipedia). Human culture also has a protective function, which is to make sure that the human propensity for change doesn't endanger a culture's existence. Fiction often mocks this cultural role, such as when the big city rocker of the movie Footloose arrives in small town America and outrages the prudish moral sensibilities of just about everyone. But this defensive mechanism is still a part of our culture. If the singularity actually began to occur, does anyone really believe that humans wouldn't react violently against it? One of the few authors to address this issue is David Marusek, who in his novella "The Wedding Album" showed humans destroying certain aspects of their technology instead of allowing a singularity-like event to happen.

So I don't waste much time worrying about the singularity occuring in the very near future (say the next decade). After that, all bets are off, but don't underestimate the cultural reaction humanity will have to uncontrollable technological change.

As a final note, Paul Kincaid states in an excellent new essay that "Science fiction is a genre that lives and dies by novelty." The result of this is that SF continually supports one literary movement after another. But when SF becomes too wedded to a particular movement, the entire genre risks stagnation. The singularity movement has brought fascinating ideas and perspectives to the genre. But the movement is now becoming stale and, in a few years, could be seen as one more wrong prediction of the future. Until that happens, SF writers would do well to avoid becoming so engrossed with this movement that they forget the other ideas, explorations, and themes which make SF unique. Because if that were to happen, then the genre truly would be in trouble.

Ordinary life and SF

James Wallace Harris has a very good post called "Ordinary Life and Science Fiction" in which he laments how science fiction stories rarely feature details of ordinary life. He focuses the point around the recent serialized novel Marsbound by Joe Haldeman, but expands the issue by showcasing how The Road by Cormac McCarthy merged both exciting vistas and drama with slices of ordinary life. Other science fiction stories which I believe do a good job of this include A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller and "Pump Six" by Paolo Bacigalupi. I don't know if it's significant that the first two stories which jumped to mind as combining SF and ordinary life are both variations on post-apocalyptic views of the future, but that's something I'll have to reflect on.

As a final note, I highly recommend people bookmark Harris's excellent blog Auxiliary Memory. Rarely a day goes by in which he doesn't post something which forces me to stop and reflect on his words.

Who cares if Star Trek Phase II is professional or not

I thought last week's comment by Marc Scott Zicree would put to rest the controversy around a script from Star Trek Phase II (formerly Star Trek New Voyages) becoming a finalist for the Nebula award. Zicree stated that from the point of view of the script's creation, the production was professional, which is a requirement for this particular Nebula award. However, now Karl Hodge at Den of Geek reports that James Cawley, Star Trek Phase II producer and super-fan, has released a letter stating the production is absolutely not professional.

I'm not going to get into a legal argument over whether or not this production meets some contrived definition of professional. The larger issue is whether or not this script is the best one under consideration for this Nebula award. Attempts to deny an award to a worthy script through a legal maneuver at best reeks of being wrong and at worst throws even more doubt on the entire Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, which is not something the organization needs at this time. The Star Trek Phase II script should win or lose fairly, not because of some movement to deny it a shot at the award because the way it was produced offends--or more likely, scares--certain professional script writers.

When fantasy and fiction are abandoned for fake realities

First came news that Misha Defonseca's horrific memoir Misha: A Memoire of the Holocaust Years--in which she describes living with a pack of wolves as a child, treking 1,900 miles across Europe in search of her deported parents, killing a German soldier in self-defense, and oh, yeah, being Jewish--wasn't true. Now it turns out that the author of another high profile memoir, Love and Consequences by Margaret B. Jones (a pseudonym for Margaret Seltzer), isn't a "half-white, half-Native American girl growing up in South-Central Los Angeles as a foster child among gang-bangers (and) running drugs for the Bloods."

So these authors turn out to be liars who conned a reading public into believing fiction as fact. Personally, I haven't read either of these two authors so I can't evaluate the stories they told. Still, I find it funny that people are using the terms "fantasy" and "fiction" to describe these women's fake lives. Aside from the obvious pun, these terms hint at a bigger problem with these memoirs: that the authors felt the only way their stories could get attention was to pass them off as real.

A few millennia ago, there was no division between fiction and nonfiction, fantasy and memoir. Storytellers felt free to mix amazing events with real life happenings, such as occurred in the Iliad and the Odyssey. Audiences readily accepted this practice, enjoying the stories and seeing the truth that existed within them. Then humanity became more sophisticated and began to see myth for myth and reality for reality. Soon came the demands that our stories adhere to this artificial division. The result of this is that in the pantheon of truth-telling, fiction and fantasy are now considered the bastard stepchilds to "real" writings like journalism, memoir, and nonfiction. To understand the truths of the world, people turn to these newer genres. The irony, though, is that people who have written in these "real" genres know that fiction and fantasy still abound. Show me one piece of so-called real writing, and I'll show you any number of fantasies within the piece.

I haven't read these two author's memoirs, so I won't vouch for their stories (let alone condone their lies). They deserve all they crap that's now falling upon their heads. But I also know that a world which demands nothing but absolute accuracy in its nonfiction, and considers fiction and fantasy to have little relation to reality, are setting up all these story-telling genres to fail. There are truths which can only be told through fiction and fantasy. There are truths which can only be told through nonfiction and memoir. And there are truths which can only be expressed through the intersection of all of the above. Both writers and readers would do well to remember this.

The Grandmaster and the SFWA president

On the Asimov's readers forum, Gardner Dozois and Tom Purdom were discussing how the Damon Knight Memorial Grand Master Award is dependent to a large extent on the SFWA president. As Purdom says, the SFWA "president picks the Grandmaster, with the concurrence of the current officers and the past presidents." Dozois concurs and adds that "I know for a fact that who the President was pushing for was the key factor in who got the Grandmaster on several occasions--sometimes against stiff oppositionfrom other SFWA officials." Purdom requested that someone compile a list of SFWA presidents and the Grandmaster picks for their terms. Here's that list, which is based on data from Wikipedia:

Obviously, there might be minor discrepancies with the list since there are occasional overlaps between presidential terms and the year a Grandmaster was selected. Still, the list points to possible stylistic, political and philosophical patterns between the SFWA president and the Grandmaster(s) chosen during their terms. However, I'll leave it to the readers to draw their own conclusions on these points.

Final word on professional status of Star Trek New Voyages episode

There has been a good deal of controversy about the Star Trek New Voyages episode "World Enough and Time" making the final SFWA Nebula Award ballot, with quite a few people screaming that the production wasn't truly "professional." I include that word in quotes because viewing the episode is ample proof that the production is more "professional" than most of what passes for television these days. Now via the Science Fiction Awards site comes this public statement from Marc Scott Zicree, co-author of the episode's script along with overall director and executive producer. In my view the statement should end all debate about the professional status of the episode and Paramount's "knowledge and approval." Personally, I see the debate over all this as further proof of how out of touch a segment of the SFWA membership is with regards to the new media opportunities and avenues which exist today.

SFWA selects Michael Moorcock as grand master

After all of the drama surrounding the SFWA in the last year, it's great to see them get one thing right as they name Michael Moorcock the Damon Knight Memorial Grand Master for 2008. Interzone recently published a special issue devoted to Moorcock (talk about being timely). In honor of this honor, let me quote from the excellent interview with Moorcock in that issue:

"I don't like being too safe, too comfortable, too predictable or to have too much of a routine. Still, I'm doing my best with what I have. And I still think of good stories in response to contemporary events and I still keep my optimism, which has always been rooted in the pleasure I take in the kindness of strangers."

Congratulations to Moorcock on a well-earned honor. And thanks to him for the excellent writing and perspective he has provided to the world.

Interview with Robert Sawyer

Science Fiction Quarterly has an excellent interview up with Robert J. Sawyer, whom they call the "dean of Canadian science fiction and a publishing machine." For those who don't know, Sawyer is a Hugo Award winning author who generally sets his science fiction novels in contemporary times or deals with contemporary events. I totally agree with Sawyer's view that the science fiction genre is amazingly nostalgic, even though some of the best work being done in the genre's history is being published right now. I also love how Sawyer says his recipe for science fiction is to "combine the intimately human with the grandly cosmic." One point I disagree with, though, is when Sawyer laments how no science fiction authors are famous enough to be the public face of science fiction (like Arthur C. Clarke was in the 1960s and 70s). I'd say William Gibson fills that role nicely, although not to the extent of Clarke. I also find it amusing that Sawyer says in Canada he is the public face of science fiction. Since Gibson claims Canadian citizenship, I'd probably place him as the public face of SF in both countries. But I'll leave that for others to argue and merely point out that Sawyer's interview is a fascinating read.

Super editors debate the Nebula Award process and selections

For my money, the Asimov's Science Fiction readers forum is one of the best places for intelligent discussions of SF/F issues. Case in point: A current thread discussing the Nebula Award preliminary and final ballots. The thread was started by Dave Truesdale in reference to his essay "Nebula Apathy Slights Original Anthologies, Or Why I like the Hugos." Since then Gardner Dozois, Rich Horton, Gordon Van Gelder, and John Joseph Adams--along with writers like Tom Purdom and other Asimov's Forum regulars--have analyzed the hits and misses of this year's Nebula ballot, the problems with the Nebula process, and thoughts on how to fix things. In general, the rough consensus appears to be that:

  • While there are some great selections on this year's preliminary and final ballots, the really good stories and novels are not consistently getting nominated and making the ballot;
  • The Nebula script category is a joke since no one actually reads the movie and TV scripts. The category should be abolished or renamed Best Dramatic Presentation;
  • A jury should be used more in the Nebula process because few SFWA members have the time or inclination to read enough works to make an informed selection.

Praise and gripes about the 2008 Nebula Awards Ballot

Even though there's nothing on the SFWA website--after all, why would they want to promote the best SF/F to the readers of the world?--John Scalzi has posted the 2008 Nebula Award Ballot. I'd like to do a little crowing at this point, as a number of the novels and stories I highlighted on the preliminary ballot have made this final ballot. Among these are the novels Ragamuffin by Tobias Buckell and The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon; the novellas "Fountain of Age" by Nancy Kress and "Memorare" by Gene Wolfe; the novelette "The Merchant and the Alchemist's Gate" by Ted Chiang; and the short stories "Always" by Karen Joy Fowler and "Titanium Mike Saves the Day" by David D. Levine.

I'm shocked that a few items didn't make the ballot, including Blindsight by Peter Watts (possibly the best science fiction novel of the year) and "Alastair Baffle's Emporium of Wonders" by Mike Resnick. At least with Resnick's story I can understand that there were technical issues with the nomination since the story was published in early 2008--too late for this year's ballot--but I can see no reason why Blindsight didn't make the ballot.

Does the Screaming Flaming Writers Association (SFWA) have a future?

John Scalzi, who ran a write-in campaign for president of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) a while back, has this to say about the current race for SFWA president: "This is the year SFWA decides whether it has a future or not." The contest is between Russell Davis and Andrew Burt. Scalzi has no beef with Davis, but says that Burt would only be acceptable if SFWA members want to "publicly and enthusiastically cut the organization's throat." This comment results from Burt's role in last year's copyright controversy.

I personally agree with Scalzi that Burt would be a bad choice for SFWA. However, what troubles me even more is that the SFWA has yet again set itself up for needless infighting and anger. I mean, is it just me or does anyone else see internecine warfare as SFWA's main occupation these days?  Perhaps I should resurrect my previous proposal to rename the SFWA as the Screaming Flaming Writers Association.

William Gibson sells "whatever"

Even though I'm a big fan of William Gibson and always look forward to reading his books, I still have to laugh at this report in the Jan. 2008 issue of Locus: "William Gibson sold his next novel to Susan Allison at Putnam via Martha Millard. No title, no plot, no outline. Just whatever."

Of course, knowing Gibson's writing ability, I bet even a novel titled Whatever would be amazing.

Books that make you dumber than Virgil's whole analysis

Via the always great SF Signal comes books that make you dumb. Created by Virgil Griffth, the analysis cross references the 10 most popular books at different colleges with that college's average SAT score. This, according to Virgil, shows the correlation between the type of books being read and how dumb or smart someone is.

There are way too many issues with this analysis to take it seriously, starting with the fact that having read Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita is not a signature mark of intelligence these days. Ironically, Virgil originally labeled Lolita as "Erotica" instead of "Classics." After being mobbed by literature majors, Virgil changed this while snarking that his complainers "lack any sense of humor."

Anyway, I'm sure this analysis will provoke tons of outrage and indignation, all while missing the larger points that a) the analysis is based only on Facebook data, and b) any analysis which claims people who don't read at all are smarter than those who read Fahrenheit 451 or the Bible can only be laughed at.

Science fiction as philosophical writing

The title of a new article in Wired Magazine says it all:  "Clive Thompson on Why Sci-Fi Is the Last Bastion of Philosophical Writing." The reason I read so much science fiction is because these days most other literary genres--both nonfiction and fiction--require little thinking on the part of a reader. As Thompson adds, that might be why so many literary writers are now trying their hand at science fiction.

What's the difference between a new and old writer?

SF/F and horror writer James Van Pelt ponders the difference between being a new and old writer on his blog. As Pelt notes, despite being first published in 1990, some people still call him a new writer. This prompted him to explore the differences he's noted between being a new and more established writer. One big benefit: his confidence is higher. Ironically, this creates a new concerns--that an editor will give him the "literary equivalent of a mercy kiss, which is a girl kissing a totally inappropriate guy goodnight at the end of a date only because he was so needy, but she never plans on kissing him again." As Pelt says, there is some deep neurosis at work in that statement.

Probably the best part of Pelt's rumination is when he says "Being an old writer means that I feel more like a Walmart greeter at the writers' gate of literature rather than someone in the parking lot hoping to get in."

Classic!