Valkyrja

Black smoke crested the horizon. The sun was dying behind it, sinking low over the shattered trees. In the Southlands ringing the Middle Sea, forests were nothing but a thin scrubland of skeletal trees and thorny bushes – an ardent furnace by day and utter desolation by night. The gunner clasped the cool sandalwood grip of her jezail and drew a laboured breath.

If the blast had been just a few hands closer, it would have rent her body in two. Instead, the force of the detonation had sent her rolling like a child’s marble down a steep incline. Dry, red earth coated the segmented leather plates of her cuirass. There, it mixed with fresh blood, forming a dark paste smelling of iron.

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Dear James Gunn

Dear James Gunn,

Thank you for your inspiring and insightful writing. I hope that this email finds you well and doesn’t serve to disrupt you too much from your dreams and nightmares.

I wanted to drop you a quick note in praise of your collections Some Dreams are Nightmares and The End of the Dreams. To be more precise because I’ve only just now finished “The Cave of the Night,” to praise your introductory essays in your collections. Your introductions to these two collections, especially the introduction in your collection Some Dreams are Nightmares, were inspirational, refreshing, and still valid.

First, I agree with your statement that “The ideal length for science fiction is the novelette…” and that it “…is not true of other genres…” (SDN, ix).  Too much focus, it seems to me, has been placed on the novel because it is easier for a publisher to market. Consumers, over the years have been trained – by publishers – to buy and respect the novel over other the shorter forms. Considering the novel, I truly enjoyed your observations regarding the genres two final out comes as demonstrated through your summary of Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain (SDN, xi). The presupposition that in science fiction (or truly science disaster fiction) either a noble group of heroes and heroines think through a problem and save the day or humanity is lost, simply rings false. Which is why I truly love the shorter forms that need not live up to the promise of finality, but they can instead probe, issue and ask questions but provide no answers.

Second, I hope to adopt “…Gunn’s first law for freelance writers: nothing is worth writing if you can’t use it at least twice” (SND, xvi). The more I think about his rule, the more I feel its strength. To see your rule in action, I’m going to start by finishing both collections mentioned here and then looking for the novels the stories inspired. I’m going post this law where I can see while I write with the hope that it will inspire me to revisit old ideas and stories and re-purpose them.

Thirdly, I’ve just begun to discover your stories. I read “The Cave of the Night” this afternoon while my wife and I waited for the winery to open for tasting and tours. The winery opened before I’d finished. However, and to the consternation of my wife, I had to finish before we started our vacation adventures. I loved the ending. I was just as enthralled and committed to Rev’s liberation from the cave as the rest of the earth bound were that I didn’t see the ending coming, which is rare and a joy. Thank you!

Finally, this email is a thank you letter of sorts. I’m a fledgling short story author dabbling mostly in science fiction (speculative fiction, really), and I wanted to reach out to you to let you know that I have been inspired by your words. I look forward to discovering more of your writings in the days to come.

Sincerely,

Aaron M. Wilson

P.S. I’m considering publishing this letter at The Hive Mind. If you respond, which is in no way necessary, I would like permission to include your reply in the posting.

—– James Gunn’s Reply—–

Dear Aaron,

It is always the hope of a writer to influence the reader, at least to pleasure, sometimes to thought, and at best to action.  So your message is triply welcome.  Writing is a lonely business.  That’s not a cry for sympathy; the writer’s life has its own rewards.  But you can only do it alone and seldom see a response, so the one that comes, that gives evidence that there are readers out there who sometimes understand what a writer has been trying to communicate, is a delight. Thanks.

If you reach the point in your own writing where you are submitting stories for publication and need some help in making your stories publishable, you might try one of the several good writers workshops that specialize in science fiction and fantasy, including my own (which starts next Monday).

Sure, you can post this.

James Gunn
Let’s save the world through science fiction

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The Big Beyond

“Has science fiction failed to live up to its expectation?”

 
This is one of those questions that, well, while it doesn’t keep me awake at night, does occupy a great deal of my thinking time, especially after I’ve read another of those big fat SF novels that has left me wondering why the author even bothered, having failed to deliver on both the premise and the promise. Or, more to the point, why the publisher ever consider it was good science fiction to begin with? I really think I have come to abhor the modern version of the big-ideas SF novel, the ones that span galaxies, include way too many characters for you to care about even one, who is big on either prophesying or expounding on the authors in topic but that always leave you feeling like you’ve eaten a bad chinese take-away, hungry for more not five minutes later.

Whatever happened to the Golden Era of science fiction, when the likes of Le Guin, Heinlein, Asimov and Clarke took us on grand tours of inner and outer space. What happened to humanity’s dream of the future? Did we arrive in that future too soon? Is that the problem? Or is it that big business and corporations are only interested in consuming Earth’s dwindling resources, rather than conquering the very stars themselves? Is my generation the last of the dreamers, the last of those who really did hope we would have flying cars, shuttles to a Moon base and Mars by now, and that robotics would be closer to needing Asimov’s Three Laws than it is now?

It’s not like we even have Le Guin’s usual dystopian future to contend with. Sure, we’re constantly lingering on the verge of having an almost suppressive Big Brother society, and not just here in the US but elsewhere too.

So what happened? What happened to the future? Where is it and can we get it back, before we lose it forever?

Here’s an easier question for you all to answer.

Name me your favourite book(s) of the future and where you see current science fiction writers taking us next, if anywhere.

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The Methuselah Project

The value of old age depends upon the person who reaches it. To some men of early performance it is useless. To others, who are late to develop, it just enables them to finish the job.” —Thomas Hardy

Prologue: Pentagon, 2160

“Now that we have it, what should we do with it?”

“File it along with everything else.”

“You sure? Any special classification?”

“No.”

“Sir?”

“If we label it TOP SECRET, it will have to be read again at some point to determine if it can be declassified.”

“I follow. Hide it in the open.”

(more…)

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Beyond Peaking

Elise Winter sat down with a large bowl of popcorn. After a long day of work, she was ready to relax and think about something other than her boss’s pending promotion, which would mean she’d likely have to do the work of two for several months. However, Elise had poured a stiff rum and Coke and her favorite mysteries were on tonight.

Elise didn’t think it was odd that violent imagery, murder, and alcohol helped take the edge off an exhausting day. Instead of the gore, and if you asked her, the gore did bother her, she focused on the sexy, smart detectives and the workplace drama that empathized right and wrong – catching the bad guys. Everyone, including the crime scene cleanup crews, were nothing but smiles. Elise’s work place was full of ambiguity and sullen expressions.

About half way into her first mystery, a reporter interrupted. “Sorry for the interruption. We go live, now, to the White House for coverage of what we have been told will be a turning point in American history. No wait, world history.” The reporter looked pale and ill prepared. “We’ve been told that in just a few seconds we will be addressed by the president.” There was a strange pause as the reporter listened, putting his hand over his left ear. He looked into the camera and sternly said, “We go live to the White House.”

(more…)

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