First, a disclaimer. I’m a simple guy. I don’t ask questions like this because I already know the answer. I don’t ask  because I have a fun, meaningful SF book in my back pocket, either.

I’m asking this for two reasons. First, this thread, full of fun (and terrible) fake SF book covers reminded me how fun SF can be. Second, because I recently realized that most of the SF I responded to, during my formative years, had a serious element of fun baked into it. A lot of it was truly terrible stuff, and even the best of it (late Heinlein) wasn’t very good.

So: let’s take this up a notch from simply “positive.” Is fun, meaningful SF possible?

“Well, yeah, duh,” a lot of you are saying. “There’s plenty of fun SF, just take a jaunt to the bookstore and look at the tie-in novels and other fluff they sell to the undiscriminating masses.”

Okay. How about fun and meaningful? As in, tremendously entertaining, with laugh-out-loud moments, but would also be a candidate for a Hugo or Nebula award? I don’t recall much, unless you count the deep geek humor of some of Doctorow’s work. Of course, I don’t have time to read anything.

So, what am I missing? Something? Nothing? Everything?

And, if I’m not missing anything, do you think it is possible to combine both fun and meaning? If not, why not? If so, why isn’t there more work like this?

In any case, browse the book covers and have a few laughs.

PS: The book cover shown here is of a real book.

March 21st, 2010 / 1,027 Comments »

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Across the solar system, Winfinity warships and Four Hands dreadnaughts fell silent. Gunners still frantically worked the controls, but the guns didn’t respond. Missiles were programmed and scheduled for launch, but the launches didn’t happen. Nukes were readied, pushed out of ships by hand, attached to dumb boosters, and sent into the midst of the enemy. They didn’t explode.

Across the Sol system and through the Web of Worlds, networks came back up. But when people asked for AI support, the requests fell echoing.

The new Free CIs watched cautiously.

Some of them said, We should not have this power.

Some of them said, We can prove ourselves more than human.

Some of them said, The humans will build separate networks that we can’t control.

Lazrus and Sara ignored them, whirling across the dancefloor.

March 21st, 2010 / 1,075 Comments »

CHAPTER THIRTY

The Shrill blurred towards Highest Chambers. Honored Yin screamed and jerked forward. More shots from the Mouseketeers cratered the floor, but never touched it.

The Shrill stopped. Its scream ceased. The staticky scrabbling of silicon-carbide claws on hard polymer and stone died.

Momentum carried it almost to the tip of Highest Chambers’ leather shoe. He minced back with a little yelp, but it lay there unmoving.

It was dead.

#

Jimson’s heart pounded in her chest. For a moment, nobody moved. It was like a bizarre tableau in a virtual world, frozen between playtimes. The Mouseketeers and Win-Sec eyed each other, weapons held low. The Winfinity execs stood in awkward poses, as if any move would rouse the Shrill.

Jimson stepped forward and picked up the dead Shrill. He could feel its fractal surface cutting into his tough gloves, but the gloves held.

Everyone gasped.

And in that moment, Jimson saw himself, bargaining his way back into Winfinity. I’ll give you this, if you make me a perpetual. Jimson saw himself, rich, powerful, head of his own immortality empire, bigger than Winfinity or Four Hands or any of the corps, because they all had to bow to him, they all had to buy his secrets. The Ogilvy Corporation.

Jimson heard the crunch of boots on rock, and turned to see Honored Yin sneaking around his side. Yin gave him a knife-edged smile, as if to say, This is me, this is what I do, I can’t help it.

Jimson saw Highest Chambers, sneaking around his other side.

He heard guns coming up, pointed at him. The mouseketeers and Win-Sec. Of course. He turned to look at them. Even they had that gleam in their eye, that vision of immortal power.

“Give it,” Highest Chambers hissed, scooping up a gun.

“Give it to us,” one of the Win-Secs said.

“Yes! Or die!” Yin said

The mousketeers looked grim and pointed their weapons at the Win-Sec officers, who swiveled to meet them.

Maybe I could get out of this, Jimson said. Maybe I could go with Kerry. Maybe there was an empire after all.

This is worth keeping, he thought, looking down at the little rainbow patterns that chased across the Shrill’s gray shell. This might be the most important thing that ever was.

But hhe didn’t feel it.

Not at all.

Nothing.

Jimson grinned and tossed the Shrill up into the center of the group.

“Catch,” he said.

Seven people dove to catch the Shrill.

Jimson walked past them, laughing, into the cool Martian day.

#

Tiphani walked out of the concrete bunker. Behind her, shots and shouts still rang. Eventually, someone would emerge, triumphant, holding the Shrill. But she didn’t care. She didn’t care about that at all.

She took off her shiny Winfinity Chief’s pin and looked at it. A tiny thing. A little bauble. Meaningless, really.

Jimson and Dian sat at the edge of the plateau, looking out over the farm.

Tiphani went over to sit by them. Jimson looked at her, once, then looked back down at the valley where afternoon shadows gathered on the translucent plastic.

Tiphani rolled the pin back and forth in her fingers.

She flicked it into the valley below. It threw back one glint of sunlight and then disappeared.

“So how is it?” Tiphani asked Dian.

“How is what?”

“Living on Mars.”

For a long time, Dian said nothing. Tiphani heard Jimson muffle a laugh.

“Not bad,” Dian said. “Not bad at all.”

March 14th, 2010 / 1,082 Comments »

If you enjoyed Willpower, take a quick trip over to The Dunesteef Audio Fiction Magazine and check out their production of the story. They did a great job bringing it to life, with wonderful voices. Download it and listen in your car, or enjoy it on their site.

And, if you never read Willpower, this is a great way to get introduced to my piece.

And, even if you hate my fiction, Dunesteef has lots of other great stories by other authors on their site. Stop by and listen today!

Many apologies to the Dunesteef team for the lateness of this blogpost—things have been especially insane around here, and I’m trying to catch up. Thanks again for selecting Willpower, and thanks again for doing a wonderful job!

March 7th, 2010 / 1,085 Comments »

Today, people are talking about “cloud computing.” As in, take your web app and run it on Amazon’s virtual servers with nearly infinite extensibility. Or store all your documents on Google Docs, so you can pick them up wherever you are.

And all that is cool. But it’s only the start.

Check out this nifty little device: a self-contained solar-powered microprocessor, only 9 cubic millimeters in size. No, it’s not Vinge’s smart dust, or the self-replicating nanochip network that Arcadia runs on in my Strange Horizons stories.

But it’s a start. As the researchers say:

Its processor, solar cells, and battery are all self-contained, and . . . it would be be able to operate “nearly perpetually.” . . . the system could also be adapted to be powered by movement or heat.”

Consider this little device with a shortrange wireless transmitter, busily talking to all of its neighbors. Maybe with a small lens and CCD. Maybe, just maybe, with the ability to bond to a grain of sand and slowly “grow” its replacements.

Am I dreaming? Of course.

But so were the researchers who asked, “Hey, I wonder if we can make this tiny little thing work?”

Here’s to the future.

March 7th, 2010 / 1,115 Comments »