FREE SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY!! (Now that I have your attention...)

Short fiction has always been the backbone of science fiction and fantasy, providing both an ongoing entry point for new authors and a sandbox for established writers to play in - not to mention writers such as Harlan Ellison whose careers were almost entirely based around their short story output.* 

As such, I have found that one of my favourite parts of the monthly Reactor newsletter has been their short story offerings, which have been consistently readable and have introduced me to some new authors, such as Lavie Tidhar and A. T. Greenblatt.

As the year comes to an end, Reactor has released an eBook edition of their best stories from 2024:

https://reactormag.com/download-some-of-the-best-from-reactor-2024-edition/ 

You can also download bundles of their fiction by months, or read any of the stories individually online:

https://reactormag.com/all-of-reactors-short-fiction-in-2024/

And it's all free, very hard to beat free.

Enjoy!

- Sid

* Science fiction and fantasy writers tend to be tagged by their best known novel, regardless of their other output - you know, that part in the review where it says, "Arthur C. Clarke, author of 2001..."  For Ellison, although he did produce some long form work, his signature piece is probably his 1967 short story I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, or possibly A Boy and His Dog. (Maybe The Beast That Shouted Love at the Heart of the World?)

Hugo.

I'm going to the Hugos!

Well, technically speaking I'm attending Worldcon, the annual World Science Fiction Convention, which is taking place in Seattle from August 13th to 17th of 2025 - but in my mind, I'm going to the Hugo Awards.  

In the process of researching a previous posting on the trials and tribulations being suffered by the Hugo Awards, I happened to notice that the 2025 Worldcon host city was Seattle, which is just a hop, step and a jump away from Vancouver.  As such, I decided to do a bit of a feasibility study on attending - given that plane tickets wouldn't be a factor in expenses.  

As it turned out, there's a reduced membership price for new attendees, which brought the price down to something somewhat reasonable, and I decided to go for it.  In addition, Seattle last hosted Worldcon in 1961, the year I was born, so there's a certain symmetry in attending its return to the Emerald City. 

I'm actually a bit giddy about it - it's like being a lifelong fan of the cinema who is not only going to the Oscars, but gets to vote on the winners as well. 

I've talked about the Hugo Awards - and the eponymous Hugo himself, Hugo Gernsback - in previous postings, but I haven't gone into a lot of detail about the process.

Worldcon is the original science fiction convention - the mother of all conventions, if you will.*  The first Worldcon took place in July of 1939, but the Hugos weren't part of the event until 1953, becoming an annual awards event in 1955.  I was surprised to learn that the official title of the awards is the Science Fiction Achievement Awards, I never knew them as anything other than the Hugos** - presumably I wasn't alone in this, as the awards were officially renamed as the Hugos in 1993. 

The Hugo voting process is a little odd. In order to vote, you need to be a member of the World Science Fiction Society (WSFS). But the WSFS doesn't really exist, it's just a mechanism for hosting Worldcons, and you become a member of the WSFS by buying a ticket to a Worldcon.

However, you don't have to attend to vote, and you can buy a cheaper non-attending membership which just lets you vote for the Hugo winners and choice of the hosting city two years hence. There's also a reduced price attending membership for new attendees, staff, and "individuals who would otherwise feel cost-constrained to attend the convention." In addition, if you buy your membership before January 31st, you also have the ability to make nominations for the awards. For anyone desiring to see a detailed breakdown of the process, I direct you to the Seattle Worldcon membership page for more information.

Suffice it to say that as a first time attendee who is very aware of the current exchange rate between USD and CAD, I opted for the reduced rate adult membership, which didn't seem to raise any red flags.

As a sign that the gods were smiling upon my trip, I also managed to find a downtown Seattle rental on VRBO that came in under a thousand dollars CAD for my six night stay - provided it's not a scam (it has ZERO reviews, never a good sign, but it's also a new listing) it's a great deal, not right in the back yard of the Seattle Convention Center but close enough to the Space Needle (and monorail) to make for a reasonable commute.

Note to self - pencil in a visit to the Infinite Worlds of Science Fiction at the MOPOP!

But wait - how does the Hugo awards ceremony work?  Is there a dinner?  If so, is it extra?  Do I need to wear a tux? Make a reservation?  Is it a cash bar? Fingers crossed for a robust FAQ...

But, for now, none of that matters - I'm going to the Hugos!

- Sid

* At this point, the shade of Sir Arthur C. Clarke appears to defend the first UK fan meeting, held in Leeds in 1937, in response to which American fans point to the 1936 Philadelphia fan meet-up with members of a New York group.  Regardless, Worldcon undeniably has the title of longest ongoing event, although there was a hiatus during World War II.  (And the 2020 event was done solely online due to COVID.)

**  Hey, trivia fans - apparently a fan named Bob Madle was the genius who suggested calling the new awards the Hugos.  Madle was also a founding member of the Philadelphia Science Fiction Society, which hosted the 1939 Worldcon after the dissolution of the International Scientific Association by Donald A. Wollheim in 1937 following the collapse of the Science Fiction League, Hugo Gernsback's Wonder Stories-based group.  (When you start digging around on the Internet, you can end up doing some very deep dives...)

Golden Years.

 "I first read science fiction in the old British Chum annual when I was about 12 years old."

A. E. Van Vogt, The Weinberg Interview

From a scholarly perspective, the Golden Age of Science Fiction is considered to run from 1938 to 1946, at least in the United States, and at least according to Wikipedia.

However, there's an alternate position. Reactor Mag (née tor.com) recently reminded us that many years ago, SF fan Peter Scott Graham commented that "The golden age of science fiction is 12."  (Alternate versions cite 13, but still.)*  It feels like one of those facile statements that would look good on a t-shirt, but it's easy to see the point that Mr. Graham was making.

Glibness aside, let's for a moment take it as a definitive measurement, in terms of what novels came out in 1973, when I was 12?  To be fair to all parties, we'll let the clock run to the end of 1974, since my birthday is in September.

A little research reveals a surprisingly prestigious lineup. 

1973 saw the publication of the following classic novels, featuring some of the most famous science fiction authors, almost all of which have a place in my little library at home:

• The Man Who Folded Himself, by David Gerrold
• Bloodhype, by Alan Dean Foster
• Crash, by J. G. Ballard
• Hiero's Journey, by Sterling E. Lanier
• The People of the Wind, by Poul Anderson
• Protector, by Larry Niven
• Rendezvous With Rama, by Arthur C. Clarke (which won the Hugo Award for Best Novel)
  
• Star Smashers of the Galaxy Rangers, by Harry Harrison
• Time Enough for Love, by Robert A. Heinlein
• To Die in Italbar, by Roger Zelazny
• Sky Pirates of Callisto, by Terry Carr
• And a trio of Antares/Scorpio novels: The Suns of Scorpio, Swordships of Scorpio, and Warrior of Scorpio, by Kenneth Bulmer writing as Alan Burt Akers

1974 does just as well in terms of classics and well-known names:

• The Centauri Device, by M. John Harrison**
• Dhalgren, by Samuel R. Delaney
• The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. Le Guin (Hugo for Best Novel) ***
  
• The Fall of Chronopolis, by Barrington J. Bayley
  
• The Godwhale, by T. J. Bass
  
• The Land Leviathan, by Michael Moorcock
• Icerigger, by Alan Dean Foster
• The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman
• Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said, by Philip K. Dick
• The Last Canadian, by William C. Heine
  
• The Mote in God's Eye, by Jerry Pournelle and Larry Niven
  
• Inverted World, by Christopher Priest
  
• A Song for Lya, by George R. R. Martin
  
• And three more by Alan Burt Akers/Bulmer: Prince of Scorpio, Manhounds of Antares, and Arena of Antares****

It's a bit surprising to see that each of these lists covers a single year, it's such a wide-ranging selection of authors and styles.  Some of my favourite books are represented here, which certainly feels like proof of concept for the whole "golden-age-is-12" hypothesis - and, a bit sadly, it all makes me aware of the fact that it's been 50 years since I was 12, which puts me squarely in the silver age, at least in terms of hair colour.

- Sid

* There's a surprising amount of debate regarding this simple statement, which has been attributed to several people and several dates over the years.  Short answer, very probably Peter Scott Graham, and somewhat probably around 1960.

** Not well known, but definitely one of my top ten favourite books, along with his 1971 novel, The Pastel City.

*** And, AND, she also won best short story for The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas in 1973, another classic entry for the Golden Age score card.

**** If anyone is surprised to see six of these novels over a two year period, you probably haven't read any of them. They're enthusiastic pastiches of Edgar Rice Burroughs' Mars series that have an entertaining creative life of their own - they're probably not for everyone, but I have fond memories of discovering the series.  Honestly, I suspect that Kenneth Bulmer could knock one of them off in two or three months without breaking a sweat.

ePulps.

 

It's the end of November, which means that the holiday season will be coming up surprisingly soon, as it generally does.  As such, Karli and I are in the early stages of gift negotiations.  Karli is looking at streaming service subscriptions such as Britbox™ for her two sisters (and it's been suggested that an Amazon Prime™ subscription would be suitable for her), but to the best of my knowledge, there isn't a similar service for science fiction fans.*

However, it occurred to me that many years ago I used to subscribe to The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, which I found to be a great collection of fiction and fact to have show up in my Muskoka mailbox.  I certainly don't need to increase my burden of physical media (I actually still have those vintage copies of F&SF**) but this is the future, there must be a digital equivalent for those monthly mail drops.

Magazines featuring short fiction have been the backbone of science fiction and fantasy writing for close to a hundred years, ever since the 1920s. Weird Tales, which most famously featured the work of H. P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard, made its debut in February of 1923, and Hugo Gernsback launched Amazing Stories, the first publication dedicated solely to science fiction, in 1926.

Later publications such as Galaxy, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and Astounding (to be renamed as Analog in 1960) allowed legendary Golden Age editors such as John W. Campbell Jr., Horace Gold, and Anthony Boucher to place their stamp on science fiction, defining and shaping the development of the genre.

The early pulp magazines found an avid readership, a readership which then produced the next generation of authors:  authors who also became editors, reviewers, and, in some cases, publishers. 

Almost all of the classic science fiction authors such as Isaac Asimov, Robert A. Heinlein, and Arthur C. Clarke were primarily short story writers during the early phases of their careers.  (Asimov's award-winning Foundation trilogy is actually a collection of short stories collected as book chapters in three volumes.)  In fact, up until well into the 1960s***, science fiction magazines were still the primary starting point for aspiring science fiction authors, giving New Wave writers like Roger Zelazny and Ursula K. Le Guin their first sales, and allowing Harlan Ellison to build a reputation based almost entirely on his short fiction.

I still see F&SF and Analog for sale on the magazine shelves at Indigo, which demonstrates that they're alive and well - or at least still printing paper editions - but what are the options for virtual subscriptions?

My old friend The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction has chosen to do its subscriptions through an e-book distributor called Weightless Books, six issues for $36.97 - presumably in US dollars - MOBI, EPUB and PDF formats are available.

No questions with Analog - six different digital subscription options, including an app-based version with a $35.88 USD 12-issue annual subscription.

Asimov's Science Fiction, which was Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine when I subscribed, now seems to be under the same publishing umbrella as Analog.  Same page format, same subscription outlets - and same price, $35.88 USD for six "double issues", whatever that means.

Interzone, the United Kingdom SF magazine, doesn't seem to have a digital subscription on their site, but I found one, again at Weightless Books. $24.99 for six issues, probably USD.

For some Canadian content, there's On Spec, which charges $14.99 for a quarterly subscription.  This is also through Weightless Books, so I assume it's USD. 

As a wild card, while I was researching the above options, I suddenly remembered Cinefex, which my friend Colin had introduced me to back when we were at Ryerson together.  Cinefex is a serious offering of special effects filmmaking commentary, aimed predominantly at the professional market but still accessible by the casual reader.  It didn't exclusively look at science fiction and fantasy movies - historical films often rely heavily on digital effects as well - but the greater part of the content dealt with SF movie effects.

I initially didn't see a digital subscription option for Cinefex, but then I spotted the Cinefex for iPad link: "Carry the entire history of modern visual effects with you on your iPad."  A six-issue subscription through the app is $27.99 USD.

In conclusion, I feel that I should recognize the TOR Books website, which has excellent articles, free short fiction, and offers a free book download on a monthly basis. It's a pretty impressive offering for free.

- Sid

Postscript:

If anyone is interested in reading any of the classic magazines in their original formats, there's a surprising range of free opportunities available online.

• A selection of classic pulps can be downloaded in HTML, Flipbook, and PDF format at The Pulp Magazine Project, including a handful of vintage issues of Planet Stories and Weird Tales.
• I was surprised to see that 356 back issues of Galaxy Magazine are available for free at archive.org, although the quality of the scans varies. The issues can be read online or downloaded in a variety of formats.
• Close to the full run of long-running British SF magazine New Worlds is available at the Luminist Archive in PDF format, along with quite a wide range of scanned material - some of which, by their own admission, the site's creators did not obtain permission to reproduce.

* There's a channel dedicated to Japanese anime called Crunchyroll, but as far as I know, that's it, with the possible exception of some less-than-mainstream SF offerings.

**And, to my astonishment, when I went to look at them on my bookshelf, I realized that I had that subscription when I was 13 years old.

*** I'm open to argument regarding this timeline, but the 1950s witnessed the demise of many of the pulp magazines, and the 1960s began a shift toward novels over short fiction in the publishing marketplace.  Although, even then, portions of classic novels such as Dune were originally serialized in magazine form.

"Galactica in the library with the lead pipe."

 

Being a science fiction fan means that sometimes when you're reading a book, you wonder if the spaceship is just pretending to be one of the good guys and is secretly the villain.

- Sid

P.S.  In this case I'm reading Velocity Weapon by Megan E. O'Keefe, but come to think of it, it could just as easily be Arthur C. Clarke's 2001:  A Space Odyssey.

P.P.S.  My god, apparently I'm brilliant - the spaceship IS the bad guy!  Sort of.

A Walk In The Dark.

Very unreasonably, his intelligence told him, he began to think how horrible it would be if anything happened now, so near the end of the journey. He kept the worst of his fears at bay for a while, hoping desperately that the lights of the city would soon reappear.

Arthur C. Clarke, A Walk in the Dark, Thrilling Wonder Stories, August 1950

I'm currently in the middle of a five-day visit to Palm Desert with my girlfriend Karli and her squad in order to celebrate her birthday.  Sadly, as sometimes happens during this sort of trip, I woke up at 3:00 AM feeling a bit under the weather - the result of a little too much alcohol* and a few too many nachos.

Fortunately, experience has taught me a very simple cure for the times when I feel like this: go for a long walk, preferably in cold weather.  So I quietly climbed out of bed, dressed, made my way down the hallway, and crept out the front door into the chilly desert night.

An hour long tour of El Paseo Drive left me feeling much better, and I decided it was time to go back to bed before Karli started to worry.

However, Palm Desert is one of those towns which doesn't really see a lot of pedestrians, and as such the city fathers haven't invested too much of their budget in street lighting.  It's rare that any city street is completely black, but once off the main thoroughfares of Palm Desert, it was certainly dark enough to make it difficult to navigate.

As I made my way down the unlit street to the rental home, I was unfortunately reminded of a short story by Arthur C. Clarke in which a lone traveller is attempting to make his way on foot through the night to the planet's spaceport, only to have his flashlight stop working.  Forced to proceed in pitch black conditions, he is unable to stop thinking about the stories that the colonists had told him regarding a mysterious creature that prowls the region around the colony - a creature unseen by human eyes, but whose presence is hinted at by evidence such as rocks scarred as if by the sharpening of gigantic claws or talons.

He finally reaches a point where he can see the lights of the port, with just a small detour back into the night before he reaches his destination.  Relieved, and a little embarrassed by his fears, he confidently walks down in the dark valley that will take him out of the light.

Only to hear the rattle of monstrous claws in the darkness ahead of him.

Trust me, these are the moments when I wish I had less of a memory for science fiction plot lines.

- Sid

* It doesn't take a lot of alcohol for this to happen to me - or to most of my siblings.  Apparently it has something to do with liver functions and our ability to metabolize alcohol.

Sigh-fy.

Judge not this race by empty remains
Do you judge God by his creatures when they are dead?
For now, the lizard's shed its tail
This is the end of man's long union with earth.

Genesis, Watcher Of The Skies

Thanks to the magic of PVR, I've just finished watching the three-part Syfy adaptation of Arthur C. Clarke's novel Childhood's End. Although I'm disappointed by their interpretation of this 1953 SF classic, I can appreciate what they were attempting to do with their changes to the story.  Unfortunately, I'm not convinced that they succeeded.

For the most part, Clarke's writing concentrates on carefully thought out and logical stories dealing with space exploration or science, such as The Fountains of Paradise, A Fall of Moondust, or Rendezvous with Rama.  Sometimes he combines this focus on hard science with an element of metaphysical mysticism - 2001: A Space Odyssey and its ambiguous conclusion would be a good example.

Childhood's End is a bit of a departure for Clarke, in that it deals less with science and more with spirituality.  The story begins with the arrival of gigantic menacing starships that take up strategic positions over all of Earth's major cities à la Independence Day.  However, these visitors are not invaders.  Calling themselves the Overlords, their spokesperson Karellen announces that they are there to take control over human affairs on a global basis, and to channel Mankind's energies into positive pursuits - no more wars, no more crime, no more violence against each other or the innocent creatures with whom humanity shares the planet.

The Overlords graphically demonstrate their ability to enforce their control through episodes like making everyone at a Spanish bullfight feel the picador's spear as it enters the body of the bull, or by blotting out all sunlight over South Africa.

Over time, resistance to their rule comes to an end as the world begins to realize how much better life has become.  However, in spite of all entreaties and demands, the Overlords refuse to reveal their physical appearances until after fifty years on Earth, at which time Karellen takes his first public steps onto the surface.  This first appearance clearly explains the reasons for their long concealment,* but the delay has allowed the people of Earth to become more enlightened and accepting, and the moment of crisis passes.

At this point, humanity has entered a golden age of enlightenment and leisure. But there are always those who are restless, who are unable to ignore the mysteries of the universe.  One of these people is Jan Rodricks, a young man who is fixated on the origins of the Overlords.  By concealing himself in a full-sized model of a whale, Rodricks is able to make his way to the homeworld of the Overlords, albeit by paying a time-debt of 80 years.

Upon his return, he finds humanity as he remembers it to be gone, its children having evolved into a new form of life shortly after his departure. The climax of the novel deals with the transition of this new version of humanity into its final state.*

Syfy's adaptation of this tale of evolutionary apotheosis seems to have lost an awful lot in translation. It's a bit like someone read the book while drunk, and then described the plot to the screenwriters a week later.  The sequence of events is altered, characters are added or removed, people keep their names but change drastically otherwise, or lose their names and sort of stay the same.**

It's possible that they were attempting to humanize the story - as a writer, Clarke is not always at his best when dealing with the subtleties of relationships - but to me, the changes added nothing to the original, although I was intrigued by the religious elements that they introduced into the plot.

However, when all was said and done, I was more confused than anything else, either in spite of or because of my knowledge of the book.  Although I think that the strength of the original concept helped to make the adaptation work, ultimately there were just too many holes and inconsistencies.

The next question is: do I want to see what Syfy is doing with - or to - the Expanse series? Perhaps - but I may well be happier just letting sleeping adaptations lie.

- Sid

* Dorothy, I know you already know the story, but I'm still doing my best to avoid spoilers for the rest of the world.

** Why on earth - no pun intended - would they feel the need to change Jan Rodricks to Milo Rodricks? Or change one of the final fathers of humanity from George to Jake, and from a set designer to a golf course architect?  Not to mention making an American farmer the sole direct contact with the Overlords rather than the secretary general of the United Nations - although they did at least keep his name the same.

Stuff for Noobs: 13-25.

This is the second half of a list created as an alternative response to a WIRED article entitled The 23 Best Sci-Fi Books and Movies to Give to a Noob - here are numbers 13-25 on my version of the starter list. (Numbers 1-12 here.)

13. Farscape
The WIRED list suggested Firefly, but I'm going to go with Farscape.  Farscape has great aliens (courtesy of Henson Associates - these are not your father's Muppets, as the Oldsmobile commercials used to say) the scripts are just as clever and good (okay, all you Joss Whedon fans, just SIT DOWN) and the main characters are interesting and intriguing. Four seasons - and a pretty good follow-up movie, The Peacekeeper Wars* - to choose from.

14. Downbelow Station, by C.J. Cherryh
This 1982 Hugo Award-winning novel** is a taut dramatic political story of conflict and resolution. Orbital stations, giant warships, alien primitives, dueling empires, betrayal, tragedy, redemption, love. Questions?

15. Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card
This award-winning novel*** describes the training of Andrew Wiggin, known as Ender, to be a strategist and a commanding officer in an almost hopeless war against an alien menace which has only been defeated once in battle. The training is psychologically brutal and designed to break Ender if he show any sign of weakness or inadequacy - he may well be humanity's last chance to avoid extinction.

Ender is six. 

16. The Lathe of Heaven, by Ursula K. LeGuin
I really wanted to have a LeGuin novel in here.  The WIRED list suggests The Left Hand of Darkness, but I thought I'd go with a less challenging read. The Lathe of Heaven is the tale of one George Orr, who has a very simple problem:  his dreams can change reality.

17. The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman
The Forever War describes the realities of fighting across interstellar distances.  Published in 1974, just as America's intervention in Southeast Asia was coming to an end, this book is an intense condemnation of the ultimate futility of waging war.   Haldeman served as a combat engineer in Vietnam and received a Purple Heart, which gives his work a strong basis in experience and reality.  Students looking for a bonus mark can compare this novel with Robert A. Heinlein's Starship Troopers, written in 1959, which glorifies exactly the same sort of situations that Haldeman disdains in The Forever War.

18. The Expanse series, by James S. A. Corey
The original three books: Leviathan Wakes, Caliban's War, Abaddon's Gate.  Good solid writing, strong characters, well thought out plot.  Also a Syfy series, but don't let that score against the books. The Syfy promo describes it as Game of Thrones in outer space - which it isn't. If anything on this list was going to have that title, it's number 14, Downbelow Station.

19. 2001: A Space Odyssey, by Arthur C. Clarke
Another tough call  - book or movie?

The novel was written in conjunction with the production of the movie version, and there's a certain chicken-and-egg aspect to the development of both, but the story as told in the book is certainly more approachable.  Clarke is one of the pillars of classic science fiction, and there were a lot of representative choices - but let's face it, 2001 has to be the best known.  Although, I don't know if the same can be said about the plot: enigmatic alien powers mold the development of humanity at its origin - and then they wait.****

20. Daybreak: 2250 AD, by Andre Norton
Andre Norton was one of the mainstays of my early introduction to science fiction.  My mother was a large fan of Norton's work, and both my sister and I have followed in her footsteps. (My sister more than me, to be honest.)  Norton's writing is quietly brilliant, her style understated but eloquent, and there's never an ill-chosen word.  I could recommend a dozen of her books without having to think, but let's go with Daybreak 2250 AD, written in 1952 - a good standalone example of her work.

21. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, by Robert A. Heinlein
Robert A. Heinlein was one of the Big Three of science fiction when I was growing up - the other two being Arthur C. Clarke and Isaac Asimov. Written in 1966, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is not Heinlein's best known novel - that prize would have to go to his 1961 novel Stranger in a Strange Land.  However, Stranger in a Strange Land is, well...a bit strange, and it's not the novel that I'd suggest to a noob as their first Heinlein read.

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress tells the story of Luna's fight for independence.  Established as a penal colony, the Moon has become a major supplier of grain to Earth, but the convicts and their descendants labour under an increasingly onerous yoke. I've always considered this book to be Heinlein's best, and a good introduction to his writing that would allow a curious reader to proceed in either chronological direction for his other work.

22. Blade Runner
Another keeper from the original WIRED listing, but a bit of an unusual one. Blade Runner is the story of Rick Deckard, played by Harrison Ford, who is tasked with hunting down a group of rogue androids. It's an oddly beautiful movie  - you'd expect anything directed by Ridley Scott to look good, but Blade Runner is full of almost surreal images and sequences.  Rutger Hauer, who plays android Roy Batty, delivers what may well be the best adlibbed speech in cinema history.

Blade Runner is based on a science fiction novel titled Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick, but the movie is only loose connected to Dick's slightly paranoid 1968 novel.  Regardless, the film went on to develop a life of its own, and the relative quality of the various cuts has been a hotly debated topic over the years since the 1982 commercial release of the original version.  The different cuts result in widely varying conclusions to the movie, so the curious viewer can actual pick and choose the ending they prefer. I have the feeling that there are seven or eight extant versions of this film.

23. In the Courts of the Crimson Kings, by S. M. Stirling
One of the most fun periods in science fiction is what I think of as the Planet Stories days, taken from the magazine of the same name that was published between 1939 and 1955. In the Planet Stories era, all the inner planets are habitable (for a given value of habitable) - Mercury is a searing rocky wasteland, Venus a primordial Jurassic jungle, and Mars is a dying planet, inhabited by the equally moribund remnants of an advanced society.

In the Courts of the Crimson Kings, written in 2008, is a cheerful homage to those innocent days. It's actually the second book set in an alternate reality where there is life on those other worlds, but it stands perfectly well all on its own, and it's a superb balancing act that combines an original view of a dying Mars with a wonderful evocation of Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars books, the Mars of Ray Bradbury, and the swashbuckling Martian stories of Leigh Brackett.

24. Captain America: The First Avenger
I'd like our noob to see a comic book movie.  Something like Guardians of the Galaxy is far more obviously science fiction than Steve Roger's transformation from 98 pound weakling to supersoldier, but the first Captain America movie is a more accessible entrée into the genre - and probably a better film. I'll admit that Iron Man was a very close alternative choice, but all that sort of second-guessing will appear in the Runners Up posting.

25. The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells
To conclude the list, let's go with the man who originates the genre of science fiction as we know it today: Herbert George Wells.  I wavered a bit on this one, The Time Traveller was a near second, but time has given The War of the Worlds a sort of charming Victorian steampunk aura. It's also a telling reversal of the manner in which British Imperialism dealt with less technologically advanced societies, and, usefully, a quick read - at this point my noob is going to be a bit worn out. 

And that's my 25 items. I've spread it out over almost the entire history of the genre,and tried to mix in film, television and the written word.  If any noobs do end up reading this posting and its predecessor, good luck!  I hope you enjoy at least some of the suggestions I've made.

And now, on to my next list, Teen Stars from the 80s: How Do They Look Today?

- Sid

* A GREAT title, in my opinion.

**  To be completely accurate, published in 1981, won the award in 1982.

*** Nebula Award for Best Novel in 1985, Hugo for Best Novel in 1986.  Why are the Hugos a year out of sync?

**** This may be a little too mysterious, but I'm going to let the existing reputation of the story carry the weight of this one.

Florida 4: Tourist Trap.

Although I do most of my travel reading on my iPhone, I always pack some paper books to fill in those gaps when the airline may request that I not use my electronic devices, or in case of battery exhaustion on flights without recharge sockets.  Because the highlight of my Florida trip is a visit to the Kennedy Space Centre at Cocoa Beach, I thought it would be appropriate to bring thematically suitable reading material:  The Right Stuff, by Tom Wolfe, and A Fall of Moondust, by Arthur C. Clarke.

I've started my reading with A Fall of Moondust, which is a conveniently short read at 215 pages.* I chose this novel for a very simple reason:  it tells the tale of an accident involving tourists - tourists on the Moon.

The cruiser Selene offers a unique experience for lunar visitors: a boat excursion on a world without water.  Except it's not really a boat, and the Sea of Thirst is aptly named -  it's not made up of water, but of moondust, a powder so fine as to be almost liquid.

As the latest group of tourists embark on their tour of this unusual ocean, a moonquake opens a sinkhole in the dust beneath the cruiser and swallows it, marooning the 22 passengers and crew of two beneath a blanket of metallic powder that blocks all radio communication and diffuses its heat signature.

The book alternates between the trials faced by the trapped travellers and the efforts by their rescuers to locate the ship, discover its fate, and then invent some way of reaching the people on board before lack of oxygen renders their efforts irrelevant.  As it turns out, there are more subtle perils to threaten the lives of the buried sightseers...

To be honest, Clarke is not at his best working with romantic subplots and personal drama, and as a result that part of the story never quite rings true. However, that's not really what interests him.  The key to the story is the battle between the ingenuity of the rescuers and their relentless opponents:  vacuum, the dust, and time.

The most astonishing thing about Clarke's tiny perfect tale of disaster and rescue is that no one dies.  I strongly suspect that in a movie adaptation, the irritating spinster reporter would be lucky to make it to the end of the first act, let alone be the first one out of the boat when they open the escape hatch.

- Sid

* It's interesting to compare the length of SF and fantasy novels from the 50s, 60s and 70s with the current offerings, there's been a definite upward slope in terms of page counts.  I remember when The Lord of the Rings was viewed as epic not only in concept but in length, with 481,103 words in the story  - not including the appendices - and now we have things like The Wheel of Time series, which clocks in at almost ten times the length at 4,410,036 words.

Gnomic Statements XII.

You know, Emilia Clarke does look like the young Linda Hamilton!

- Sid

Recommended Reading.

Last night, the Evil Dr. Smith and I went out for dinner with my friend Alan and his new female companion Karli.  Alan is in the process of moving to Vancouver from Toronto, and has shown the foresight to line up an apartment and a girlfriend in a single visit.

Given that Alan is not a great fan of literature himself, I was pleased to discover that Karli is a reader. (She's also extremely good looking and apparently quite smart - I hope Alan's apartment is as nice.) As part of our conversation, we were discussing the trials and tribulations of long-distance moving, and I mentioned that my move to the West Coast was a little more expensive than Laurie's due to factors like my extensive library. When pressed, I confessed to my long term addiction to science fiction and fantasy.

As sometimes happens when people find out that I'm a geek, I was asked what science fiction novel I’d recommend - Karli had already explained that her literary interests are not tagged to a particular genre. 

I initially went with Dune, by Frank Herbert, which is a superb novel in spite of unfortunate adaptations to both movie and miniseries, but settled on Larry Niven’s Ringworld instead.

We finished dinner, we paid the bill, we shook hands and hugged and so forth, and went on our separate ways.  When I finally got home, I made a cup of tea, came into my study, sat down, stared at my books, and brooded for a while. 

Ringworld is not a bad recommendation when put on the spot over dinner. It deals with aliens, space travel, extended life, teleportation booths, and a plethora of other familiar SF tropes.  The massive scale of the Ringworld itself illustrates the sense of wonder and imagination which typifies the best of hard SF, and the adventures that Louis Wu and his motley crew experience there are thought-provoking, exciting, and entertaining.  It’s a clever book, and I think it’s easily accessible for non-fans.

All that being said, I feel that I’ve slighted any number of equally valid candidates for recommended reading: Ursula K. LeGuin’s The Left Hand of Darkness, The Dispossessed, or perhaps The Lathe of Heaven; The Lord of Light, by Roger Zelazny*, (maybe The Dream Master); Downbelow Station, by C. J. Cherryh; Babel-17, or Nova, by Samuel R. Delany, Lord Valentine’s Castle, by Robert Silverberg; Robert A. Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress; The Centauri Device, by M. John Harrison; Altered Carbon, by Richard Morgan, Hyperion, by Dan Simmons; Neuromancer, by William Gibson - and I'll stop there with ten authors.

Other science fiction fans (including my sister) will read this list and immediately voice their objections.

"What about Stranger in a Strange Land?"

"There’s no Clarke!"

"There’s no Asimov!"

"Where's Douglas Adams!  Or Piers Anthony!"

"Peter Hamilton's really good!"

"What about Lovecraft?"

"How could you skip Harlan Ellison?"

And they would be completely correct - the books listed above are in no way intended to explore the complete range of science fiction, and I could double those names in two minutes.

Then what does that list represent? 

The authors I’ve listed above are the ones that captured me with their imagination, style and skill, in books that I've returned to again and again over the years.  It's a bit sloped toward the 80s, when I was really hitting my stride as a fan, but includes older and new fiction as well.  Some of them are not as high profile - I suspect that M. John Harrison is a new name to some fans reading this - and the books I've listed aren't always the best known for those authors.  But they are all exceptional examples of writing talent, regardless of their genre, and I would unhesitatingly recommend all of them in a heartbeat.

And, in conclusion, I have to apologize.  I've always said that I didn't want to do lists here, everyone does lists, and now I've done one.  In my defense, I held out for almost eight years, so I don't feel I've betrayed my principles by too much.

- Sid

* Both these authors are equally at home with fantasy or science fiction, but Karli’s original question was for a science fiction recommendation, so I’m restricting myself to SF.  Although, really, with Roger Zelazny it's sometimes hard to tell.

The New Fan.

(Contributed by Dorothy Hatto)

 
The other day I was talking to one of my friends who is into science fiction and was amazed to discover that she had never heard of Andre Norton, one of the founders of modern science fiction/fantasy.*

Now, my friend is going to Australia, and she takes books rather than her tablet to read. They weigh less in carry on and it's easier to read half a page or so if you have to wait. She suggested that I lend her one of my books to take along.

My brother Sid might be the only one to really empathize with the decision of which book to choose.  Andre Norton or Alice Mary Norton was writing science/fantasy books before it was popular for women to be in the genre. (Ergo the "Andre" of her name.) She wrote under a few other pseudonyms, all male - I don’t think she ever used her actual name in print, although I may be wrong about that.

She was born in 1912, started writing science fiction in the 1940s, and died in 2005, still collaborating with other writers.

So, which book do you choose out of the 300 or so titles that she wrote and co-wrote?

I took a couple of days to think about it and finally chose the same book that I think I read first. My mother owned Daybreak 2250 A.D. as an Ace double and I believe it was the first Andre Norton story I ever read. My current copy was printed in the 1970s and was 50 cents at the time. I have replaced it twice** and also inherited my mother's Ace Double for my collection.

I will have to wait till my friend gets back to see if she liked it, but she does like Anne McCaffrey books and their styles are similar. 

- Dorothy

* Along with H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, Robert Silverberg, Hugo Gernsbach, Arthur C. Clarke, and a few I have probably forgotten.

** I always like to get the used copies as the story has changed a bit every time it was published.

Postscript
I completely agree with Dorothy: anyone with a serious interest in science fiction or fantasy should be aware of Ms. Norton's contributions to the two genres.  Andre Norton was one of those rare authors whose mastery of tone and vocabulary was complete and flawless.  Her writing style was formal and dignified, and matched itself perfectly to the stories which she crafted with such consummate skill.

Hmmmm...but which one to lend to a first time reader? Daybreak 2250 A.D., with its outcast post-apocalyptic hero (and his cat) is certainly a good choice in terms of a characteristic novel.  I might have gone with The Time Traders, or Witch World, or Year of the Unicorn (which starts a whole series of connected novels).  The Beast Master?  Star Rangers? Sargasso of Space?  The Crossroads of Time? As my sister suggests, a difficult choice due to the uniform excellence of Andre Norton's writing.

Thanks very much for the posting, Dorothy!

- Sid

A State of Mind, Part I: Ellison Wonderland

"Would you like a bag for that?" 

"Yes, thank you, I'd rather not sweat all over this on the way back to the hotel."

Conversation with the counter staff at South Congress Books.

As per my Alamo Drafthouse posting in February, I spent most of last week attending PePCon, a publishing/epublishing conference that was held in Austin, Texas. The event itself was excellent, a marvellous professional development opportunity, but sadly it didn't leave me a lot of time for sightseeing.

However, I did manage to briefly get away from the hotel in order to see a bit of the city and perhaps do some shopping.  As you might imagine, when I say "shopping" I'm not talking about looking at shoes or picking out a cute outfit - for me, shopping involves only one thing:  books.  So I took a quick look at Google™, picked out what appeared to be the closest used book store, and headed out into the searing heat of the afternoon.

My initial thought when I entered South Congress Books was that I had made a bad decision - nothing at all against the book store itself, a compact, well organized space, but I generally feel that if I'm in a book store that doesn't have a dedicated science fiction/fantasy section, I'm in the wrong book store. Nonetheless, having exposed my pale Canadian skin to 35 minutes of blazing Texas sunlight to get there, I felt that I should at least look about a bit before leaving.

I was somewhat mollified to find an interesting selection of vintage hard cover science fiction in the rare books section, but unfortunately all priced a bit rich for my blood.  However, encouraged by this display of genre presence, I switched my attention to the FICTION section and began working my way through the alphabet.

I was pleased to discover a diamond mixed in with the dross almost immediately.  There on the shelf was what turned out to be a first edition hardcover copy of Mefisto in Onyx, by Harlan Ellison, with cover artwork and introduction by comic book artist/author Frank Miller.  Quite reasonably priced (in my opinion) at thirty-five dollars - condition not quite mint, but certainly near-mint*. 

(By the way, this is the back cover, that's the front cover leading off the posting.)

Mefisto in Onyx is an expanded version of a short story which originally appeared in the October 1993 edition of Omni magazine.  Interestingly, in a genre where authors' careers are very much defined by their novels**, Ellison's success and reputation is almost entirely based upon his award-winning short story and television script work.  Ellison has written a couple of full length novels, but they have failed to have the impact of short works such as I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, A Boy and His Dog, or "Repent, Harlequin!" Said the Ticktockman.

It is sobering to think that Ellison, the enfant terrible of science fiction during the 60s, will be 79 at the end of this month.  Reading his writing from that period now, it's astonishing to see how far ahead of his time he was - many of his stories read like a false dawn of cyberpunk over twenty years before William Gibson started work on Neuromancer. 

That being said, in the unlikely event that the infamously litigious Mr. Ellison should read this, I feel that some sort of disclaimer is appropriate.  Mr. Ellison, I mean absolutely no disrespect to your work in any other decades, and agree wholeheartedly that The Starlost was a horrible travesty of what it should have been.

- Sid
  

* Whenever I hear this term used, I have this terrible urge to ask if they have any other flavours.

** Isaac Asimov - the Foundation Trilogy;  Frank Herbert - Dune;  Robert A. Heinlein - Stranger in a Strange Land;  Larry Niven - Ringworld;   Arthur C. Clarke - 2001; and so on and so on.  Not their only novels, but the ones that are most associated with their writing careers.

And why are they throwing them at Russia?

Sooner or later, it was bound to happen. On 30 June 1908, Moscow escaped destruction by three hours and four thousand kilometres - a margin invisibly small by the standards of the universe. Again, on 12 February 1947, yet another Russian city had a still narrower escape, when the second great meteorite of the twentieth century detonated less than four hundred kilometres from Vladivostok, with an explosion rivalling that of the newly invented uranium bomb.

In those days, there was nothing that men could do to protect themselves against the last random shots in the cosmic bombardment that had once scarred the face of the Moon. The meteorites of 1908 and 1947 had struck uninhabited wilderness; but by the end of the twenty-​first century, there was no region left on Earth that could be safely used for celestial target practice. The human race had spread from pole to pole. And so, inevitably...

At 09.46 GMT on the morning of 11 September, in the exceptionally beautiful summer of the year 2077, most of the inhabitants of Europe saw a dazzling fireball appear in the eastern sky. Within seconds it was brighter than the sun, and as it moved across the heavens - at first in utter silence - it left behind it a churning column of dust and smoke.

Somewhere above Austria it began to disintegrate, producing a series of concussions so violent that more than a million people had their hearing permanently damaged. They were the lucky ones.

Moving at fifty kilometres a second, a thousand tons of rock and metal impacted on the plains of northern Italy, destroying in a few flaming moments the labour of centuries. The cities of Padua and Verona were wiped from the face of the earth; and the last glories of Venice sank for ever beneath the sea as the waters of the Adriatic came thundering landwards after the hammer-​blow from space.

Six hundred thousand people died, and the total damage was more than a trillion dollars. But the loss to art, to history, to science - to the whole human race, for the rest of time - was beyond all computation. It was as if a great war had been fought and lost in a single morning; and few could draw much pleasure from the fact that, as the dust of destruction slowly settled, for months the whole world witnessed the most splendid dawns and sunsets since Krakatoa.

After the initial shock, mankind reacted with a determination and a unity that no earlier age could have shown. Such a disaster, it was realized, might not occur again for a thousand years - but it might occur tomorrow. And the next time, the consequences could be even worse.

Very well; there would be no next time.

A hundred years earlier a much poorer world, with far feebler resources, had squandered its wealth attempting to destroy weapons launched, suicidally, by mankind against itself. The effort had never been successful, but the skills acquired then had not been forgotten. Now they could be used for a far nobler purpose, and on an infinitely vaster stage. No meteorite large enough to cause catastrophe would ever again be allowed to breach the defences of Earth.

So began Project SPACEGUARD. Fifty years later - and in a way that none of its designers could ever have anticipated - it justified its existence.

Rendezvous with Rama, Arthur C. Clarke

At approximately 9:20 on Friday, a meteoroid exploded over the Russian city of Chelyabinsk.  Estimates as to the object's exact size and weight vary - NASA's estimate is 17 meters in diameter and a weight of about ten metric tonnes.  Windows shattered,  buildings were damaged, and over a thousand people were injured, over one hundred of whom required hospitalization.

Coincidentally, the Chelyabinsk explosion took place sixteen hours before asteroid DA2012, 50 meters in diameter and 190,000 metric tonnes in weight, came within 27,000 kilometers of Earth, the closest recorded passage of an object of that size.  

I don't know who's tossing these things at us, but I have to think that eventually they're going to throw a strike.

- Sid

 

"This time for sure!"

Many are my names in many countries, he said. Mithrandir among the Elves, Tharkûn to the Dwarves, Olórin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten, in the South Incánus, in the North Gandalf; to the East I go not.

Faramir quoting Gandalf, The Two Towers

There's a longstanding tradition of pubs and bars in science fiction and fantasy:  Arthur C. Clarke's White Hart, deCamp and Pratt's Gavagan's Bar, Spider Robinson and Callahan's Crosstime Saloon, the Vulgar Unicorn, Munden's, The Mended Drum (and The Busted Drum), The Prancing Pony, Chalmun's Cantina, and so on.  For a long time the village tavern was a ubiquitous starting point for Dungeons and Dragons adventures, to the point where it's now a fantasy cliché to start a quest in a pub.

The Storm Crow Tavern, which opened here in Vancouver last month, is in some ways a tribute to this tradition, as well as simply offering a geek/nerd alternative to sports bars and night clubs.  The bar describes itself as "An Olde Medievalle Taverne with rayguns", so obviously I've been curious to see what they have to offer.

I've mentioned my first unsuccessful attempt at visiting The Storm Crow, but, fool me once - this time I check their Twitter™ and Facebook™ pages to make sure that they're open for business. Reassured by both, once again I put on an appropriate Doctor Who t-shirt, and head off to 1305 Commercial Drive.  No problems this time - the doors are unlocked, and I head inside and find myself a seat in the corner. Based on my previous comments about wanting to find a bar that would show Star Wars in lieu of the Stanley Cup, I'm amused to see that I've shown up exactly in time for the start of A New Hope.

The decor is a mix of longsword and laser: in addition to the battle axes and shields, there's an array of ray guns and blasters underneath a Boba Fett helmet and a Cyberman mask*, and the tattered war banners are balanced by a selection of Colonial and Dalek propaganda posters. There's also a comprehensive library of vintage 1980s Choose Your Own Adventure books.

The lager on tap is a locally brewed Howe Sound product, which I order with a bit of caution, having had a couple of dubious experiences with their brewing. The menu isn't very elaborate, but all the meals are six dollars, which is intriguing.  I order the prime rib sandwich with fries - it shows up quickly, it's a good size for the price, and it's quite tasty, although next time I'll ask for well done fries, I prefer mine more on the crispy side.

The bar's wireless password is "mithrandir", and to my amusement the waitress pronounces it like a foreign word and slowly and carefully spells it for me even though I'm already typing it in. I suspect that she hasn't been hired based on her genre background, which, when you think about it, may not be a bad thing.  Logically you want waitresses who can reliably sort out beverage orders for a table of eight rather than list all of Gandalf's pseudonyms.

The place is empty when I arrive, but then very few bars are busy at 3:00 on Thursday afternoon. As time goes on, people begin to trickle in. Notable guests are a woman in steampunk attire, another patron wearing a Sith Inside t-shirt, and a table of confused German tourists who are suffering from the mistaken belief that the banners and battle axes are evidence of a Teutonic bar. Interestingly, as the place starts to fill up, a lot of the clientele are female. Female geeks have become a solid part of the community, and I think it's a positive sign that the bar has a high female ratio.

Because I have a lengthy bus trip home, I pay a visit to the little orc's room on the way out - literally, the men's room being distinguished by a World of Warcraft Orc action figure on the door, and the ladies' by a female Wood Elf.

Overall, I quite liked The Storm Crow, and will certainly go back to help support it as opportunity allows. I realize that my midafternoon weekday visit wasn't really a fair evaluation of a bar like this, in that, as with any social environment, it will be defined by its patrons. I suspect that on a busy night, when the gaming table is in use and the place is full of customers, the atmosphere is brilliant.

Ultimately, all of the bits and pieces of decoration are just window dressing, and I think that the reason for the sudden popularity of the bar is purely conceptual - the decor is almost irrelevant, it's the idea of announcing to the geek community that they have a place to go which will be responsible for the bar's success.

 - Sid

* By the way, Autocorrect on the iPad obviously needs some more work - it didn't recognize either one of these terms when I was taking notes on site.


October 1st update:  attempted another visit at lunch today in the company of co-worker and fellow geek Donovan, only to find out that they were closed again.  Checked Facebook™ and discovered that apparently they'll be closed on Mondays going forward.  This gives them a score of 1/3 so far, which is not great.

Guys, I like your pub, but honestly, two words:  POSTED HOURS.

"My father's car was science fiction."

Yesterday I attended an entertaining and illuminating evening with science fiction author William Gibson, arranged by the Vancouver Public Library as part of Gibson's promotional tour for his new collection of non-fiction work, Distrust That Particular Flavor.  Gibson's articles and commentaries are a fascinating present-day application of the same brilliant methodology and unique style that he more often uses to create the future.

The event was standing room only, or would have been if the organizers hadn't started setting up more chairs.  I had the good fortune to be Number 24 through the door*, which continues to support my philosophy that if you show up early, you get good seats.

The demographic was an interesting mix that ranged from twenty-year-olds to people who looked to have a decade or two over and above my fifty, suggesting that Gibson's popularity as a writer has maintained itself well over the intervening years since the 1984 publication of his landmark cyberpunk novel Neuromancer. 

Gibson is a little more lined, a little more lean, and what used to be almost trademark unruly mid-length hair has changed to a receding crewcut, but the round wire-framed glasses remain the same as in the pictures of Gibson from the 80s.  He retains a kind of laconic southern drawl from his youth in Virginia which combines well with his flat delivery, although that deadpan sense of humour can make it hard to realize that he's made a joke.

Over the course of the evening, Gibson covered a wide range of topics.  He discussed his early interest in science fiction as almost a given for someone growing up in the United States in the 50s, when everything had a sort of post-war futurism in its design. To illustrate, he pointed out that:

My father's car was science fiction. It was far-out science fiction, it had rocket fins and chrome plates on it.

He went on to discuss the question of science fiction as a predictive medium as he approaches it in his work:

People can and do attempt to predict the future in works of science fiction. Someone like Arthur C. Clarke does today look rather prescient - unusually so by the standards of science fiction. When I began to write science fiction, I convinced myself through my own reading of science fiction and whatever cursory study of comparative  literary critical methodology I was able to apply, it seemed to me that the science fiction fiction of the past could most meaningfully be read as a product of the moment in which it was created. 

When I was a kid, there was a lot of 1940s science fiction around, which I was reading in the late 50's and early 60's, and I actually had to reverse engineer the history of the world as i read it in order to figure out why some things were so wrong.  Because when you finish writing a piece of fiction imagining the future, when you dot the last "i" and put the last period on it, it begins to obsolesce - it begins to acquire a patina of quaintness which ultimately will probably be its greatest charm for readers of the future, in the way that when we read 19th century science fiction today, what we find charming is what they got wrong.  So that always happens.  Nothing dates more quickly than an imagined future.

I tried...knowing that I did my best, when I was starting to write, to try to produce work that would resist that and have some longevity, simply because that was more of a challenge. So I was careful never to have year dates in my early work. 

In fact what happens is that even though people do read it, it's all still in print, people do read that stuff, when they read it now, they think, okay, I know that the central mystery of this book is going to be what happened to all the cell phones.  You may be able to anticipate or at least name cyberspace, but it doesn't mean you can anticipate the advent of ubiquitous cellular telephony, and indeed if anyone had been able to anticipate that in a SF novel of the early 1980s,  what a weird book that would have been!  Imagine a world in which no one is ever truly alone. 

Gibson is resigned to the inevitability of piracy in the digital age.  When asked about his position regarding this problem during the question and answer period, he replied with the following philosophical position:

Everything I've ever written is available as a single BitTorrent download that you can find on hundreds of sites around the world...if that weren't true, you'd have to consider me a failure.

All in all, a good evening.  And it was free, which is an awfully good recommendation for something like this.  

I declined the opportunity to stand in line and obtain Gibson's signature on a newly purchased copy of Distrust That Particular Flavor, although, when you think about it, that's going to be one of the most difficult things to adapt to e-books - and a pretty good justification for not downloading the pirate version of Gibson's collected works. 

- Sid

*  No, my OCD hasn't reached the point where I've started counting people in front of me in event lineups, the organizers were good enough to provide me with a non-winning door prize ticket.