Michael Swanwick's Blog, page 127

There Can Only Be Three...

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Okay, guys.  Question Time!

The two greatest science fiction writers of the Twentieth Century were H. G. Wells and Jules Verne.

Who was the third greatest?

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Yesterday's Future Today

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Gregory Frost sent me a link to an article about a new prosthetic hand that not only responds to its user's thoughts but also provides a limited sense of touch. Which put me in mind of a conversation I had in the early 1980s with William Gibson.

This was at the Chicago Worldcon and Bill was working on his first novel. He told me he'd just written a scene he was rather pleased with in which a character goes to a hotel and instead of a room key he's given a swipe card. Then he arrived at the Chicon hotel and the desk clerk slid a rectangle of cardboard with a magnetic strip into a machine which chose a number at random, gave it to the card, and then sent the code up to his door lock. A day before, GIbson had been ahead of the curve. Now, he said ruefully, he found himself behind it.

You won't find that key card in Neuromancer , I'm sure. Gibson went back and rewrote the scene. But that was the same Worldcon, I believe, in which I discovered that the airport had slidewalks and that the sinks and toilets turned the water on and off using infrared sensors.When I checked in, the clerk told me I could check my email on Channel 1 of the TV -- as if I had any idea what he was talking about.

A day before, I'd been living in the present. Now I was living in the future.

So are we all, today, and have been for decades. But it's an easy fact for a science fiction writer to overlook.  We are so immersed in the literature that it's easy to forget that not all of it's fiction.

But if you're writing about a world with astronauts, thought-controlled prosthetics, robots, and genetic engineering -- and you haven't added anything genuinely new to the mix -- you're not writing science fiction at all. You're just writing badly-researched mainstream fiction.

All you new writers out there... this is your thought for the day.

You can read the Guardian article here.


And just a reminder...

My final book tour appearance will be next Monday at the Penn Bookstore.

That's September 21 at 6:00 p.m.  If you have a hankering for an autographed copy of Chasing the Phoenix , or if you just want to hear me read from it, this is your opportunity.

I'm hoping there will be a big turnout because the alternative is always so depressing. So tell your friends! Dress up your cats and dogs in human togs and bring them too! And if alien life is discovered in the next five days, they're welcome too!

That's:

P enn Bookstore September 21 at 6:00 p.m.
free3601 Walnut Street, Philadelphia

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A Drink Too Far: On Beyond Martini

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A while ago, I traced the evolution of the Martini from its ancestral drink -- the Manhattan, believe it or not -- to its current status as the King of Cocktails. So, that done, you'd think that drinkers would leave well enough alone, right?

How little you know people.

In the wake of perfection arose the Cult of Dryness.  Keeping in mind that the proportions for a proper Martini range from three parts gin to one part dry vermouth (a wet martini, and perfectly respectable) to six parts gin to one part dry vermouth (an awfully dry Martini, but still one that can be ordered without affectation), you may yet marvel at the following three examples of excess:

Ernest Hemingway, a solid man but one given to overdoing things, was known for ordering his Martinis in sixteen to one proportions. In Venice, for God's sake! He was in Venice abd he was Ernest Hemingway and that STILL wasn't cool enough for him? Cripes.

The Montgomery is a drink that out-Hemingwayed Hemingway. Its proportions were twenty-four parts gin to one part vermouth.  Why?  Because the diss on General Monty was that he would never attack unless he had a twenty-four to one advantage.

Even more alarmingly, the Dadaists had a version of the Martini which consisted of filling a glass with cold gin, placing it in a slant of sunshine, and passing the bottle of vermouth between the Sun and the gin.  This they called the Immaculate Conception.

Dry is good.  I myself am an afficionado of the dry, and indeed the extremely dry, Martini.  But when I thus specify and the bartender (imported, doubtless, from some parallel world in which this questiom makes even a modicum of sense) asks if I want vermouth in it, I can only shudder.

Because the plain and simple truth is that if there is no discernable amount of vermouth in your cocktail, it is not a Martini at all.

It is simply a glass of gin.

Thus endeth today's sermon.  Go thou and sin no more.

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Playin' Hooky

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Ol' Unca Mike has been working hard, traveling hard, and writing hard these past few months. As a result, I have temporarily lost all ambition.

Flogging Babel will return on Monday, full of vinegar and social pith.

Ask Unca Mike will be back next Friday.

Thanks for understanding.

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This Glitterati Life: Readings and Panels

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I've put in somewhere between 3,500 and 4,000 miles in the past month, roaming about small fractions of this tremendous country. And yesterday I added another two hundred miles to the total, jaunting up to Brooklyn for the New York Review of Science Fiction Reading Series, ably hosted by WBAI's finest, Jim Freund.

First up was Rajan Khanna (above), who read from his novel, Rising Tide. And got a very good reception, too.  Then I read, "The Seduction of Prince First-Born Splendor," a story or story-like excerpt carved and slimmed down from my wondrously entertaining new novel Chasing the Phoenix . Which the audience was kind enough to like.

I always give away my reading copies, signed and dated (and so should everybody; if this were the common practice, then there'd be an excellent reason to go to lots of readings by new authors who need the audience; spread the word). This time, in keeping with the series' traditions, it was given away in a free raffle and went to Matt Blackburn. Who got a unique item since the copy I read from was the only one ever printed out and I just now destroyed the e-file.

Afterward, I got to chat with lots and lots of people, including both old friends and new. So that was good.

And tonight... Geekadelphia's panel of Science Fiction in Philadelphia.  It should be great. I wonder who'll be there.


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All About Me! Me! Me!

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Well, sort of.

That tight little window when appearances and promotions can benefit the sales of a boo is coming to a close.  So there are only three opportunities left for me to heighten awareness of my astonishingly entertaining novel Chasing the Phoenix. But they're choice ones.

Tomorrow!


The New York Review of Science Fiction Readings Tuesday, Sept. 8th -- doors open 6:30 p.m., readings at 7:00 p.m.$7 suggested donation

The Brookly Commons Cafe 388 Atlantic Avenue  


I'll be appearing with new writer, Rajan Khanna.  So you'll have a chance to meet him as well.  Rajan is is an author, blogger, reviewer and narrator whose first novel, Falling Sky, a post-apocalyptic adventure with airships..  Its sequel, Rising Tide , Comes out next month. Meet him now, and you can say you knew him when.


Wednesday!

Geekadelphia Presents: The Future of Philly Sci-Fi and Fantasy at the Free Library Wednesday, Sept. 9th -- 7:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m.free

Philadelphia Free Library Central Branch1901 Vine Street
This should be a hoot. The lineup includes Gregory Frost, Fran Wilde, Stephanie Feldman, Siobhan Carroll, Jon McGoran, and Rasheedah Phillips and me. This is the first time this group of writers has been assembled, so who knows what we'll say? And who knows if this particular lineup will ever be assembled again? I'm expecting to have a great time.

After the panel, there will be questions and answers, followed by autographings and then schmoozing and conversation. If you go, be sure to say hi.


Two Weeks From Today!

Michael Swanwick at the P enn Bookstore September 21 at 6:00 p.m.
free3601 Walnut Street, Philadelphia

Closing out the promotional season, I'll have a reading/appearance at the spacious U of P B&N. I used to work two blocks from the bookstore, did you know that? True fact. I was the church secretary for Tabernacle United Church at 37th and Chestnut before they sold the front of the building to the university's theater department and retreated into a back chapel. I was married there too. So this is kind of a homecoming for me.
And that's all! Be sure to show up for one of these events if you can. I'll do my best to make you feel welcome.

Above: You know what they say about scoundrels and the flag. I haven't done anything yet, but election season is upon us, so I might as well get ahead of the curve. Happy Labor Day! Enjoy your cookout.

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Ask Unca Mike

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Science fiction and fantasy writers are a group are extraordinarily generous with advice to new writers. A moment's thought, however, reveals that this is just encouraging talented young people to occupy the publishing niches and win the awards that would otherwise go to to us Old Hands. Ask Unca Mike is an attempt to rectify this deplorable situation.


Fourteen Tabs and Waddaya Get...?

 Sam writes: I dropped 14 tabs of acid the other day and somewhere between crying about the filthy kitchen and trying to remember how to use the toilet while sitting on one I wrote fifteen pages of fresh material. 
Please Uncle Mike, help me stop this before it becomes a career and I end up resenting my drug hobbies.
First of all, let me applaud you for having your priorities straight. Yes, becoming a writer will take all the charm out of drug abuse. But the solution here is blindingly simple: take those fifteen pages of "fresh material" and set them aside for a week. Then, swhen you are completely straight and absolutely clear-headed (not at all the same thing, I assure you), read them through at one sitting.

The results will cure you of mixing mind-altering substances with prose-alyering techniques forever.


If you have a question for Unca Mike you can post it below. Or write to AskUncaMike ("at" sign) gmail.com. I'll respond tho those I have the best answers for.

Ask Unca Mike appears here on Fridays.

An Open Letter to the Chinese Science Fiction Community

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Roughly seven years ago, at the suggestion of my then-editor, Jennie Bai, I wrote a column explaining the workings of the Hugo Award for  Science   Fiction   World . I ended the column by pointing out that it was perfectly possible for a Chinese writer to win the award and suggested that one of my readers might be the first one to do so.

At the time, I thought it would happen a decade or two from now.

Last Saturday, I was present at the Hugo Awards ceremony at Sasquan, the World Science Fiction Convention in Spokane, when Cixin Liu's  The   Three - Body   Problem  won the Hugo for Best Novel. The applause was thunderous. But nobody applauded harder than me.

I applauded chiefly because as a reader I loved the book and because as a writer I admired Liu's ideas. But I was also applauding the entire science fiction community for how rapidly you made my prediction come true.

It does not diminish Cixin Liu's accomplishment to observe that no book is written in isolation. A novelist writes with the example of those who came before him, and in awareness of what his peers are writing as well. He also requires the support of editors, publishers, reviewers, and most particularly readers. So in part credit for the award goes to everybody who has worked so hard to make science fiction a respectable form of literature in China.

Congratulations, then, to all of you.  Most particularly, of course, to Cixin Liu.

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Young Raven, Old Raven

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I've been wandering about in raven country -- Montana, mostly -- for the past week, and the frequent sight of those strangely intelligent birds inevitably put me in mind of Bernd Heinrich's book on the subject, Mind of the Raven .

One of Heinrich's observations is that young ravens are endlessly curious and will investigate any unfamiliar obect placed in their territory.  Sometimes this involves placing themselves in danger but they do it anyway. In this way, they acquire a stock of experience and information that will stand them in good stead for the rest of their lives.

Sometime around the time they reach sexual maturity, however, the behavior of ravens changes.  They lose the curiosity. They distrust the new.  Place something novel in their environment -- a whirligig, say -- and an old raven will eye it with suspicion and then fly far away.

The analogy with human beings is, I trust, obvious.  This is why scientists usually make their great discoveries while young.  This is why there are so many jokes about Gramps asking his ten-year-old for computer advice.

This is why some writers cease to be interesting after a certain age.

People have logical powers denied to even ravens, however. I think here of Tom Purdom, who sold his first two stories in 1957 but whose stories in the past decade are far superior to his earlier work and to most of what's published currently as SF to boot. If a writer can keep his or her curiosity alive,
maintain an interest in novelty for its own sake, and refrain from deciding she's (or he's) got enough knowledge to last, it's possible to go on and on.

But somewhere along the line, the writer has to consciously choose: young raven or old raven?

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Ask Unca Mike

Science fiction and fantasy writers are a group are extraordinarily generous with advice to new writers. A moment's thought, however, reveals that this is just encouraging talented young people to occupy the publishing niches and win the awards that would otherwise go to to us Old Hands. Ask Unca Mike is an attempt to rectify this deplorable situation.



Titles of the Purple Sage

 Coyote writes: Everybody tells me my titles suck.  But I think that "An Incident," "The Package," and "Road Kill" are pretty darned cool.  Please tell me that I'm right and they're wrong.

First of all, my editor friends tell me that "Road Kill" is the single most common title in the slush pile.  Imagine the glory of writing the best story with that title! You might want to consider using it for every story you write until you achieve that glad accomplisment.

Failing that, you definitely should stay with your soporiphic-to-the-point-of-tears titles.  Primed to expect a boring, tedious story, the readers will encounter the brilliance that is your prose and the mesmeric qualities of your storytelling.  They will be amazed.

Or so, anyway, I would like to believe you will believe.


If you have a question for Unca Mike you can post it below. Or write to AskUncaMike ("at" sign) gmail.com. I'll respond tho those I have the best answers for.

Ask Unca Mike appears here on Fridays.

Above: As always, I'm on the road again.  As it turns out, Yellowstone is off the grid.  I managed to keep on schedule, technically.  But I apologize for not being on time according to your schedule.



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