Vanity
For your starter today, I’ve recently finished Sam Harris’s book The Moral Landscape. We recently had a three episode set discussing the premise and arguments Harris addresses in the book. I’ve also posted a review at Goodreads. It’s an interesting and provocative book–if you have an interest in ethical philosophy, I highly recommend it.

Whimsy
This is an oldie, but goodie, video of a squid filming its own escape from a skin-diver.

Civil Liberties
Are you offended and frightened by the recent shooting? Wish you could silence people who are talking about “targeting” and “taking down” the opposition? Think that such speech is the moral equivalent of a terrorist threat? I humbly suggest that you might want to rethink your position in light of this excellent piece from Slate.

In a similar vein, the attempt to silence political speech on the Internet has been whole-heartedly embraced by the Obama administration. EFF brief here.

Politics
In the “I reserve skepticism but it’s starting to look like I was wrong” department, there’s encouraging news about the early effects of the new health care bill.

Business and Writing
In the “cool research for Steampunkers” department, the Guardian talks about the FEMALE criminal underworld in Victorian London.

Ever wondered what the real scoop is on the most important part of you’re book’s marketing (i.e. the cover)? Turns out that Laura Resnick did a very extensive series of articles a few years back that goes in depth on how the whole business of covers works. Well worth the read.

The charming Kate Elliot posts a great article at SFWA offering advice to teen writers from someone who’s been there. If you’re a teen writer, check it out.

Bob Mayer expresses admirably why I’ve not yet done a book trailer, and why it would take a special project for me even to consider it. A quick read, worth the click.

For your treadmill-listening pleasure, Gail Carriger gives a delightful and characteristically witty interview with SF Signal, discussing the impact of social media on the book industry and the author’s business model.

Nathan Lowell’s publisher Robin Sullivan does a guest blog for J.A. Konrath in which she busts some myths about indie publishing and talks about the sales growth curve of her authors. Interesting, useful stuff.

If you thought 2010 was tumultuous for the publishing industry, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Borders is in the process of a crash-and-burn, and depending on how it goes down, it could do anything from expanding the print-book market to seriously shrinking it over the near-to-medium term (though I doubt it will actually sink any of the publishing houses along the way, it may mean a lot less cash going around to buy new titles). If you have print books on the market or on the way to market, it behooves you to read Joshua Blimes’s excellent and thorough Borders post-mortem report.

Science and Technology
As an enthusiastic tender of a bacteria culture (lacto bascillus San Francisco), this kind of stuff fascinates me. An in-depth article, with sub-links, on the unique ecosystems that exist within cheeses.

Perhaps I’m showing my age–and I can’t believe I just said that–but I’m still blown away by the return of lay people to the sciences. Last week, a ten-year-old girl discovered a brand-new supernova, and setting a world-record in the process.

The Singularity (in the loose sense) continues apace with the development of contact lenses that display information directly in the field of vision. This is the very epitome of “augmented reality” technology. Wonder how long it’ll be until we can buy them at Walgreens.

Another nifty extra-solar planet discovery–this one very like Mercury.

It’s early days yet, but there’s more rumblings from legitimate autism research that might just have nailed down one of the reasons for increasing incidence and prevalence of Autism Spectrum Disorders in the last couple decades. Encouraging news, as this one is completely preventable. Also weird as hell, which tickles my interest-o-meter.

In archeology news, physicists seem to have cracked the secret of the Mayan ability to make dyes that last forever.

At the end of December, the BBC did a wonderful 1-hour documentary on the most world-shaking scientific and technological advantages which, thanks to the marvels of YouTube, you can now see for yourself.

Along similar lines, here’s an article on 8 Science Fiction gadgets and plot devices that became a reality in 2010.

Laser weapons deployed for use on the high-seas! That’s right, non-lethal stun lasers are now being tested for use against pirates. No joke!

And, for the sake of great science-fictiony fun, here’s a great essay by Ronald Bailey speculating on the GOOD things that the lack of ET signals could portend.

Orwell
In other news, moral crusaders continue to Bowdlerize and lie about history “for the sake of the children.” If I can point to the single most harmful strand of human nature, aside perhaps from the propensity to commit genocide, this is the one I’d pick.

On the other hand, there are people of genuine moral fiber still circulating in the world. If you want something that will make you cry or stand up and cheer, check out this statement by the father of one the 9-year-old girl slain in the assassination attempt this week. Someone who takes his responsibility as a member of the body politic seriously enough that he’s unwilling to call for the curtailment of the civil liberties of others as salve for his grief? Uncommon! And displays most excellent character.

Weird Apps
Digital Life has info on an app for all you iPhone folks that will tell you when you can leave the theater to hit the bathroom without missing any plot points in currently-released movies. Behold, RunPee!

And that’s it for this time. Catch you around next time the world gets weird!

Vanity

On the ever-so-self-indulgent subject of, well, me, there are a few items potentially of interest.

First, I released a second Clarke Lantham novel. When Clarke Lantham goes home for Christmas, the results can’t be good.

Meanwhile, the first Clarke Lantham book has been getting some attention. KindleAuthor just interviewed me about it, View from Valhalla loved it, and Seth Harwood, Gail Carriger, and Philippa Ballantine all liked it well enough to provide blurbs. If you haven’t read it yet, you can check out the first couple chapters here. For that matter, you can check out the first part of book to, A Ghostly Christmas Present, here. Enjoy!

Art and Writing
If you’re an artist, or a writer, and you live somewhere that the influence of Hollywood reaches (i.e. everywhere), it’s very easy to forget that being “in shape,” “fit,” or “athletic,” doesn’t mean the same thing as “lean,” “6-pack abs,” or “what I saw on the cover of Vogue this month.” Forgetting this basic fact of life robs stories and paintings and graphic novels of realism, even if slightly. So, for your benefit and mine, here’s a photo essay featuring over 100 Olympic atheletes in phenomenal shape, each featuring a very unique body type.

Odd how the two most “offensive” words in the English language at the moment were words that were only mildly naughty 30 years ago. While one of these will continue to be a problem for a while, the other is redeemable. Check out Hal Duncan’s brilliant linguistic history of “cunt,” and his take-down of the implicit sexism sold with the demonization of what is, after all, a very cute word for a very delightful organ. He also goes into depth in the way usage varies on either side of the Atlantic. Unusually thought-provoking, and not played for shock value. Very useful for writers who write cross-culturally.

Publishing
We all know publishing is changing — snooze, hit the alarm, pull the other one, etc. We read about it in the New York Times a hundred times, which one would expect, as publishing is a big presence in New York. But when you read about it in the LA Times you know the movement’s gone big. Of course, this is the LA Times, which isn’t exactly a bastion of non-sensationalistic accuracy. Even so, it’s a fun read full of links to authors doing innovative things. Fun stuff!

TeleRead posted an interesting overview of the history of book piracy, it’s sociodynamics, and economics, with a follow-up column speculating on what it means for the industry. Some interesting stuff here by Chris Meadows.

For those of you who, like me, have a huge library full of books by dead people that will never be released in e-book format (or, at least, not for anothe decade or two) there is an inexpensive non-destructive way to digitize your books. This method is legal and ethically benign so long as you do not share or sell the resulting digital books. As an open source advocate and DIY culture member, I am very much in favor of projects like this. As an author who makes his living off his intellectual property, I work hard to make sure my work is always available in forms that do not strip the reader of his or her fair use rights. The other side of that contract is that the reader doesn’t steal or pirate the creative work of the entertainers whose work they consume. So, with that caveat, enjoy the workshop experience I’ll keep writing ‘em if you keep reading ‘em.

Speaking of piracy, Paul Cornell writes a provocative ethics article about illegal downloading filled with many good and some rather flacid points. Worth a read, nicely thought-provoking.

Got a book available on Kindle? You can now post the sample on your website with the Kindle for the Web app. This post from indieKindle gives instructions for embedding the app on your site or in a blog post.

And, speaking of e-books…solar powered e-reader, anyone?

Beauty
A really fun time-lapse of what looks like the blizzard from hell — over 3 feet in less than 24hrs. Most impressive – the best 30 seconds you’ll spend today.

Terry Gilliam, whose work has always been kinda steampunky anyway, is producing a steampunk puppet movie that looks really damn cool if this short film version of it is any indication.

Not to be out-done on the time-lapse front, NASA brings you a time-lapse of a sunset from another world. Click here to watch a Martian sunset.

And for breathtaking, how bout a collection of photos of man-made footprints on other worlds?

Science & Technology

Recycling. We all do it for the environment, but some kinds of recycling–like recycling plastic–are a waste of energy, resources, money, and doesn’t yeild an environemntal or economic gain. This isn’t true for everything–aluminum, scrap metal, electronics, and (thanks to a recent breakthrough in dealing with treatment of toxic de-inking chemicals) paper–all yeild tremendous benefits when properly recycled. But plastics…man, plastics are a problem. They’re all chemically different, they have to be very carefully sorted, cooked, and then are downcycled (made into things further down the supply chain) rather than recycled to the same quality. It’s a dirty secret, and it’s been a bit of a problem and embarassment for a couple decades now. That might not be true for much longer. Seems that, rather than resorting to dogmatism and moral guilting on one side, or lazy-bones naysaying on the other, one scientist has figured out a process for recycling all plastics that’s inexpensive, energy efficient, and a net environmental gain. Bravo!

In the realm of philosophy of science, Alvin Plantinga, an otherwise respected epistemologist from Harvard, is in the process of dipping his face in egg when it comes to philosphy of science. His companionable discussion with Daniel Dennet gives you the bulk of his case in his own words, and P.Z. Meyers (whom I consider entertaining but not exactly one for nuance) takes him apart very effectively here.

Research on different kinds of invisiblity continues apace. This article talks time distortion effects of certain kinds of meta-materials, and gives a roadmap for a proof-of-concept. I’ve been having a blast watching this field go from the stuff of dreams and science fiction to the stuff of serious, hard-core well-funded research in the last ten years. I can’t wait to see–or not see–some metamaterial-based invisibility prototypes in action.

In other news, 3D image editing for anaglyph is coming soon to a computer near you.

The field of linguistics has long been one of those in-between sciences–not quite a real hard science, but something more quantitative than a social science. Google Books looks to be changing that. Ronald Bailey talks about the new trend in tracking linguistic and cultural evolution using quantitative analysis of Google’s book database.

You know the insomnia you get after a traumatic experience? Turns out that trying like hell to get to sleep might not be such a good idea after all.

If you’ve heard about geopolitical unrest because of China’s attempts to lock down the rare-earth metal market, don’t worry. Turns out they’re not the only country with lots of the “rare” stuff.

Education

If you’re a strong autodidact like me, you’re always on the prowl for new educational stuff. OpenCulture just updated their list of free online courses from major universities this month, and the selection is getting really impressive. Even scarier, as one who grew up in academia, I’m starting to recognize a lot of names on that list.

Meanwhile, one of the most excellent shows on the history of technology, James Burke’s Connections, has made its way onto YouTube. Bears multiple re-watchings. Check it out.

If you’re like most people, you’ve heard about the Theory of Relativity (E=MC^2) and have a vague idea that it means all matter is energy or something like that, but you’ve never really been able to get your head around the math to understand what it really means. Well, fear not — the always-readable Bertrand Russel wrote the definitive popularization of general relativity, and Derek Jacobi read it. Now, it’s available for free to the public as an audiobook. Go grab it now, give it a listen, and prepare to have your mind turned inside-out. Fun stuff

Also in the “good clean fun” department, someone with actual sexual experience on the order of decades is now producing a sex education series on youtube. Funny, clever, and no-bullshit, he calls it the “Guide to Getting It On,” and he hits a lot of points that younger, hipper educators often miss.

Politics

This is the only political article this time, and I’m including it because of how much of a shocker it is. Francis Fukyama’s analysis of where liberal econimcs went wrong by embracing the liberalization of financial markets instead of trade-goods markets. It’s very interesting watching the Keynsians, the Monetarists, and the Hayekians all starting to converge on this point in the wake of the recent banking crisis. More interesting to me is that Adam Smith got there two hundred years ago–and that politicians and policy makers still aren’t listening.

— — — —
I got tons more in my salad bowl, but that’s already a more substantive meal than I had planned to serve up. Hope you enjoy — and have a great New Year!

It’s hard to beat being thrown in an out-of-state jail on a trumped up charge as a Christmas present, but detective Clarke Lantham loves a challenge. So when he calls up his brother for help with bail, he thinks he’s prepared for the ordeal of spending a holiday weekend with relatives who put the “strange” back in “estranged.”
That was his first mistake. Unfortunately, with an old client gumming up the works, a ten-year-old niece with a ghost problem, and the occasional murder competing for his attention, it’s unlikely to be his last.

Currently available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

Crazy Silly Creative Things
To start off with our garnish, you could do no better than watching this 3 minute video about what Welshmen really do with sheep. Don’t worry, it’s work safe–but you won’t be while watchign it. This is seriously, amazingly cool.

Johnny Carson presents The Great Flydini, an utterly silly and borderline obscene magic act that will leave you in stitches. Don’t let obscene put you off — it’s work safe.

While you’re at it, put down your drink before reading this story about the trials of moving house with a pair of neurotic dogs.

Writing
Gail Carriger shares a surefit of useful research resources for those interested in the Victorian world.

Publishing
Some industry analysts are just flat terrified of change. The tired old doom-and-gloom saw, complete with a helping of elitist nuttery and starry-eyed nostalgia, receives a very articulate (and surprisingly informative) defense in the Boston Review article Books After Amazon. Fortunately for readers, most publishers aren’t this short-sighted, but it is a very informative view into the mind of those who think that ebooks will kill the publishing industry.

Copia, a latecomer to the ebook market, is hoping to create a major third-mover advantage by leveraging social media in a pretty creative way, turning its reader into a Facebook-meets-Twitter-meets-Goodreads-meets-kindle type “experience.” Time will tell.

While we’re on the subject, the official word on Google Editions is that they ARE coming…someday. At least, we think so.

If you sell a story during 2011, be sure to drop an email to this guy. He’s editing the “Best Of” anthology for 2011.

By the way, James Bond? Yeah, his author’s estate gave its publisher the boot and went independent. Details here.

Science
By now you’ll have heard all about the new life form discovered at Mono Lake. Here’s a sober and understandable account of this very exciting, but fairly overhyped, discovery.

Speaking of which, I’m getting very tempted to declare the 21st century the century of virology. It turns out that a lot of cancers, possibly obesity, and now possibly schizophrenia are caused by the irritating little bastards.

Moving to the meteorology front, the Telegraph has an article full of amazing photos of supercell tornadoes that’s well worth a squint.

Miscellaneous Cool
I stumbled across a whole bunch of color movies from the 19th century. Our notion about the Victorian Era being drab and grey where the clothing is concerned? Yeah, that’s a load of crap, and here’s the evidence.

Space Travel
It’s not quite a moon base, but it’s still kinda cool: NASA aims for a base at L2.

Vanity
And finally, your moment of torture. On Get Published, I cackle in my surly way about writing, marketing, publishing, and making a living off of fiction in ways I’m hardly qualified to do.

Opinionated though I am, it’s not an easy question to answer. So here’s a quickie list of the pros and cons garnered from a scarce four years of con-going experience:

Con Pros

1) Networking. I’ve met lifelong friends through Cons. I’ve also made excellent business contacts, both in the writing business and otherwise. I’ve met a lot of really excellent people.

2) Fun. If it’s a good con, and you find your groove we’re talking Disnelyand-or-better level fun, not going-to-the-movies-because-you’re-bored level fun.

3) Vacation. This is different from fun. You can have fun at home. But a vacation is a break from reality, and Cons are definitely a place where many of the normal rules of reality don’t apply (but politeness rules do still apply: don’t be an asshole). It’s good to shake up your picture of the world from time to time, and a good con will do that.

4) Education. A well-run con will have programming in which you’ll learn new skills, get exposed to new ideas, and walk away with a slightly swelled brain. From the learning, not the cocaine.

5) Writing time. I’ve finished two novels and written several short pieces at cons.

6) Sex. If you’re looking for it, you can find it.

Con Cons

1) Expensive. Anywhere from $200 to $1000 for the weekend, depending on travel, hotel, food, and how creative you are with budgeting and buddying up. That doesn’t even get in to what you can spend in the dealer’s room.

2) Culture shock. If you haven’t been to one before, there’s a pretty good chance you’ll see or hear things that offend you. Your boundaries are going to get stretched too. No matter how laid back you are, someone’s gonna push your boundaries. This is more interpersonal shock than culture shock, but if you don’t enjoy personal stretching, this could be a minor negative.

3) Con Crud. You’ll get sick–cons are petri dishes. Plan a couple days for recovery. Also, you know that thing called “sleep?” You won’t get any.

4) Sex. If you’re not looking for it, it can still find you. And follow you around. And not take anything but “you’re creeping me out, go away” for an answer.

5) Bad cons. Some cons just suck. They’ve been run by the same people for too long. They’re afraid of being edgy. They’re insular. For whatever reason, they’ve lost their spark. When this happens, it’s *depressing* as well as a waste of time and money. It’s hard to know when you’re going to run into one of these, but you’ll run into ‘em.

6) Con fatigue. If you love cons, you’ll go through parts of your life when all the wonderful things about cons just aren’t enough to be worth the bother. Maybe you’re a writer at a point in your career where the panels are too elementary but you’re not ready for high-level networking. Maybe you’re transitioning from fan to pro. Maybe there’s a cultural divergence, and you just don’t fit at your local con. Maybe you’ve had a death in the family and, this year, the whole thing seems stupid. Or, maybe you’ve just gotten all you can out of the con experience and it’s time to call it quits for a few years, or forever.

— — — — —

Those are the things to weigh. A great con can literally be life-changing, just by virtue of the people you meet. A bad con is just annoying and will make you feel surly and stupid. Most are somewhere in between.

Anyone have comments or opinions on cons? Chime in in the comments!

This year, I’m on track to do 6 short stories, 1 novella, 3 novels, 1.5 nonfiction books, and 15 articles. Fully 1/9th of my lifetime’s word output has happened this year. And I also landed a collaboration deal for a nonfiction with one of the veterans in the business (you’ll hear more about this during Q1 of next year).

During the same time, I upped my education a lot. I’ve gotten my footing in what had previously been a bizarre and foreign business to my way of thinking, learned how to apply past lessons to the current domain, and taken several other business projects forward specifically because of the gaps this education has filled in.

One of the things that surprised me is the lesson I learned ten years ago at the beginning of my time in and around independent film is even more important in the writing business than the film business. I’m henceforth calling it Sawyer’s First Law of Apprenticeship:

When you want to learn something, look for the folks with the gray hair and the bad attitude. (Caveat: “Bad Attitude” doesn’t mean “asshole.” It means “cynical and difficult to impress, and don’t give a damn what you think about them.” This is important because it means they’ve been around the block and they have their shit together).

In an industry like publishing that’s in the throes of tectonic shifts wrought by technology, particularly for a child of the Internet age, it’s easy to assume that it’s the young lions who know the score.

And, for us Gen X-ers and Gen Y-ers, it’s a cultural cache to be insular: to be highly social among ourselves, and to not bother much with the older folks unless they’re the rare ones who are hip to the changing times.

But if you’ve ever hung around old soldiers, you know this one: When the rules change, the old soldiers who survive the change do so because they know why things work the way they do. And they are usually willing to talk to people who are willing to listen–and they are also willing to encourage people to only take the parts of their advice that suit them. In writing, there’s a group of writers who are adapting faster than *anyone* to the new world of ebooks and small presses and making new media pay rather than just making it work, and they’re all over 50 and each has more than 50 novels under their belts.

Over the last few years, I’ve been the beneficiary of a lot of wisdom from people with gray hair and bad attitudes, in a variety of businesses. Most of them, I kid you not, I met in bars or in line for movies, just chit-chatting with strangers who seemed interesting. Some of them I sought out at conventions and conferences. All of them have been a masters-level-or-better education on their own.

And I’ll still be learning for a lot of years. My current endeavor is listening to the Superstars Writing Seminar until my ears fall off. In another month, I’ll have them more or less memorized. And a month after that, I’ll have the lessons integrated into my business strategy. I highly recommend it for anyone in the first couple decades of a writing career (from “ooh, I want to do that” to “So I have a dozen books under my belt, now what?”).

Whatever your business is, your peers are people you need: support, friendship, innovative thinking, industry gossip, you’ll get a lot of it through them. Treasure them. Nurture those relationships. They are the people who you’ll be with as you conquer the world.

But to level up, you need three things: learning, discipline, and mindset.

Learning comes from the people who earned their gray hairs.
Discipline comes from seeing what people twenty or thirty years ahead of you can do in their sleep that you dare not even dream about yet, then trying to push to reach that level. Maybe you’ll find your limits, more likely you’ll push them, and that’s where growth comes from.
Mindset comes from listening to people who’ve been there before you. You learn very quickly how easy it is for a newbie (even a newbie with a resume) to worry about the wrong things, to be as diligent as possible and make dumb decisions, and to self-sabotage without ever realizing it.

Some of this stuff you can learn from books. The rest of it only comes from experience, and from talking with people who’ve had experiences.

Whatever your art, business, or career, maintain your networks. And keep an eye out for gray hairs and a bad attitude. When you find them, buy them a drink and ask them questions. You’ll be glad you did.

Fortunately,* I caught her in the act:

*I just made a lolcat to avoid writing. This is officially a new low.

This story is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

One of my favorite stories in all of mythology is the Talmudic story of Lilith. The insight it gives into the development of Judaism, of Hebrew mythology and culture, and its naked and impossible-to-talk-around display of preclassical sexual politics have all tickled the cockles of my geeky heart for two decades now.

What would happen, though, if Lilith were able to tell her own story in her own words? Perhaps something like this:

—Story Sample Below the Cut—

Lilith
by J. Daniel Sawyer<

You say I am the night hag, the bewitching moonlight, the child-eater who causes crib death. You say I am the woman your husbands see at the temple when they are seeking something more than you can give. It is true that I seduce, and I destroy, and am unjustly maligned for both. Your jealousy pushes me into the darkness, makes for me the role which you imagine I play. It keeps me at the edge of your firelight and behind the ghouls in the stories you tell your young men. You are the daughters of man, but I am the daughter of the earth.

I came first.

And that was why he hated me.

I awoke in the ground, the mud crumbling off me in the drying Mesopotamian sun. I knew nothing at first but the sun on my skin and the breath in my lungs, a lavender fire. I heard his breath, but I did not yet know what breath was.

The date palms above filtered the light into dozens of fractured, dancing spears, warm on my thighs, my face, my vulva, my toes. I awoke on the ground, and came out of the earth, and heard the Voice whose breath awakened me, whispering secrets in my head. I alone was given the power of creation, the dominion of immortality. I was the Voice’s delight in the world wrapped up in clay, and the man on the ground beside me was the order of life, and from the intercourse of chaos and order would come the future of the universe. We were the progenitors.

And so, we awoke.

I looked down upon him, and touched him. I had never touched anything before. His skin felt like water that never ripples.

I ran my fingers over his brows, behind his ears, down his body. I watched him grow in my hands as I pulled back his foreskin, I felt him twitch and gasp as I probed him, and I heard his voice for the first time when I touched his knees and he cried out and sat upright. Bewilderment and sunlight danced in his eyes.

We had, as yet, no language but touch and gesture, and yet for that one moment, we understood each other. In later years, when he was old and dying, he would tell his sons how he took my hand and led me to the water where we bathed and explored, and where he took me before he discarded me on the way to something better.

An old man needs his ego as comfort, perhaps, before he dies and is no more. But he did not take my hand, nor did he ravish me on the riverbank. I took his hand, and then I washed his body, and then I mounted him and pulled the life from him, and we melted into one another for the first time. I fell asleep on top of him, his cock still warm inside me, our connection unbroken.

It did not happen again. He was order, and I was chaos.

We woke up and he felt himself pinned by my weight, and he panicked. He pushed me off, stood up limply, and stumbled into the stream to speak to the Voice of the forest. As he spoke, we learned language. Both hearing the Voice, our minds were bent into grammar, and we knew sin. The fear of an animal who awoke under a weight became the hatred of a man, full of scorn and fear, who needed order to dominate all.

Even chaos.

The Voice told him that the way of things was for creation to come out of chaos and order. As the Voice’s word dipped into the formless chaos and begot the world, so the man would dip into the woman and together beget the future. The Chaos and Order were co-creators, each one intertwined, flowing into and shaping the other.

But orderly minds are rarely sensible.

When I looked at the birds pecking the dates I saw the flow of life and death in violence and birth, the tension of forces always threatening to break loose. The wings of the bird pushed against the air, a constant dance of dominance. He looked at them and he saw taxonomy and patterns. The repetition of the feathers and the geometry, the elegance of form-fit function, the imperfections that served to reinforce the structure.

But when he looked at me he saw not the lover who had awoken him, the harmony with whom his voice would make a symphony, the saxophone solo on the bed of his bass line; he saw the destruction of all that he was. He saw surrender to forces he could not control. The death of the orderly world that he already loved.

He looked at me with murder in his eyes, and he saw his death.

Until then, there had been no word for death.

End of sample. ©2007 J. Daniel Sawyer, All Rights Reserved

Read the rest on your Kindle, Nook, and other readers.

Bring on the leaves!

Culture
David Brin writes a graphic novel called “Tinkerers” about the maker culture, manufacturing, and the future of progress, and puts it online for public reading.

On the indie film front, here comes a new farm system that might take a couple years to become completely clogged: Amazon is launching a sort of on-line film festival that looks like a hybrid of Project Greenlight and what Sundance used to be. Worth keeping an eye on.

I’ve talked from time to time on Dealing In shows about the unique political history of the United States, and how that has directly contributed to our current culture wars. Here’s some news that dovetails with the discussions about the Civil War and Reconstruction — for some people, the Civil War never ended.

Sexuality
For some reason–maybe because both Down From Ten and And Then She Was Gone featured elements of the BDSM culture?–I’ve gotten a number of people recently asking me how people could possibly get pleasure from pain. I’ve never been a fan of Freudian explanations for this — they’re too much like just-so stories, and they rely on a theory of mind that’s now totally discredited. So, in the interests of science, here’s some interesting neurological research that bears on the question of how pleasure and pain relate in the brain.

Space Science
First ever exoplanet from outside our galaxy. Yes, Virginia, our galaxy does seem typical of this universe.

The Telegraph runs a story on being homesick from orbit, which contains some of the most gorgeous astronaut photography yet published.

Project M, the weridest space travel project to date. This is what you get when engineers get really pissed off — and it’s kinda cool, too.

TSA Security Theater
Like a lot of you, I’ve been seriously apalled by what’s been going on the last ten years with air travel. This week, the policy wonks might actually have gone too far by requiring a strip and/or grope search of everyone flying through one of about 68 airports around the country. So I’ve got three links to help you out if you have to travel by air thruogh any TSA occupuied airport.

First, for those of you who have to fly before this mess is resolved, at the bottom of this page is a list of the airports who currently have the new pornographic version of security theater scanners in place.

And if you’re looking for something you can do about it, check out this most creative (and potentially effective) response I’ve yet seen. November 24: opt out of the scanners, force a backlog of pat-downs, and wear kilts to really embarass the fondlers. Full details here.

Finally, a heartening tale of Citizen activism against the TSA

Internet Civil Liberties
For those of you who have been following COICA, the internet censorship bill, it’s been voted out of committee and onto the floor. There’s a big fight coming up on this one — if you’re a fan of social media, art and science on the net, or an author or content creator, this is your fight. Find details here.

Biology, Geology, and Energy Research
Life really is everywhere, and a new discovery makes the question of the origin of oil even more murky. Thomas Gold (and the Russian scientists he plagerized) might have been right after all. Time will tell.

Materials Science
Carbon is your friend, really. It’s at the heart of the current materials revolution that’s giving us both radical life extension and sustainable space travel. Today’s news? Ultra hard graphite, harder than diamonds, developed in a lab.

And then there’s the quantum supersolids–a holy grail of materials science–and the new evidence that they may actually exist http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn19748-new-evidence-that-weird-quantum-supersolid-exists.html

And that materials revolution that you’ve been hearing about for years? It’s officially here. First molecular manufacturing tools are in the works.

Medical Science
They’ll fix you with a ray gun! Radio wave-based treatment for hypertension more effective than drug cocktails, and might prove permanent.

I saved this week’s coolest link for last. A new (and replicable) stem cell therapy can now reverse some of the symptoms of Autism. Check it out!

I’ll be at Seattle Steamcon II this weekend — hope to see you there!

The end isn’t near, it’s here.
Irene, recently widowed, knows the Earth is drowning, and all she wants is one last night to dance. The best band in the world is playing just up the road in a blues club at the edge of what little land remains, and there she encounters a stranger, and a clue that might unlock the mystery of her husband’s death.
This is the way the world ends: not with a whimper, but with the blues.

The story is now available from Amazon, from Barnes & Noble, and from Smashwords.

This title is intended for adult audiences.

—Story Sample Below the Cut—

Buried Alive In The Blues
By J. Daniel Sawyer

The sky is still bleeding. It hasn’t stopped for months. I can hear it crying, and the way the Earth groans underneath, battered and bruised like a man who welshed on a bet. Well, like when my man Juno welshed, anyway. His mouth kept writing checks his ass couldn’t cash, got himself beaten raw at least once a month.

I kept my property in my name. He was worth it.

Tender as cooked asparagus, my Juno. We’d made it work for years. Every night they weren’t broken, his fingers wiggled up inside of me or ran over my skin light like a ghost’s tongue.

The night the rains started he’d been out with his buddy Paris, but he crawled back home his own self, his arm bent the wrong way and breathing like a dump truck sat on his chest. He wouldn’t tell me what happened. He didn’t want a hospital, didn’t want my help, just wanted to go to bed. I should have known better, should have made him see a doctor, but it was late, and we had plans. I wasn’t going to let ‘em go for no money, even if I had to go alone.

But out on the road the clouds opened and jammed everything up, and I couldn’t get through. I came home to find him drowning from the rib stuck in his lungs.

That’s when the breath gone and left him. It was my fault. Juno always had more balls than brains, and I shouldn’t have listened to him. I didn’t know who took him from me, or why. I didn’t want to know. All there was, the whole world, was just a big hole around where Juno used to be.

I stayed there by him for days, until the sky’s bleeding finally broke the Earth.

Five months on, the water was coming in over the floor and standing four inches high in the streets. I’d not gone out but for food and to see him done with, except once after I couldn’t stand it being inside anymore.

I got taken by the flood. Took me two hours to get my truck out. After that, I didn’t try to go out again. Weren’t nothing out there but the rain. No life anywhere. Just rain.

The world was ending. On the news they didn’t think it was ever gonna stop. Thing is, I didn’t want it to stop. I prayed it’d keep coming down until the whole planet slid itself straight into hell and buried us all. And I never wanted to go out ever again.

But that night, I had to go. They were in town. Best band in the world. The one I missed the night Juno left me. I hadn’t heard them in years. I could afford it because I didn’t need cash—they’d let me in free at the door. I knew that for sure. They hadn’t been through in forever. For all I knew, they might trip the light fandango and never make it back.

Earth was dying. Drowning in grief. Her insides spilled out from the hills across the freeway. I had to drive the old four wheeler around the mountains of mud. Over some of them, too. My home soil, those lovely hills—left to collapse everywhere. I could see the land sliding, big chunks slipping in fits. There wasn’t anybody on the road, just the ground falling apart, crumble by crumble, until there was nothing left at all.

Their music sounded like that. It sounded like me, ever since Juno.

The rhythm of the rain on the roof and the windshield pounded out in syncopation to the music in my head, the craggy wipers flopping back and forth like the kick drum. My radio didn’t work for beans, but I could hear them from all the times before. Nick and the old Chicago boys, playing like they used to when there was a Chicago to play in. Playing like they did when Muddy Waters was on the stage with them.

Muddy Waters. I swear it was his ghost had the climate by the balls, making sure that anytime they played the streets would be ankle deep in it. Muddy waters, streaming out from under the hills, come back from hell to make sure they all remembered what they’d learned at the crossroads.

I could hear them doing sound checks from the parking lot. The water turned my silk dress into a second skin, the little fibers grated across my nipples when I moved.

They had me on the list, like they’d promised. “Irene Adler,” right up top by the A’s. The bouncer made me wait a good couple minutes while he “looked over the list”—I guess they’d started writing guest names in sharpie on my chest.

The room inside was filled with blues and smoke and the men on stage strumming and humming with voices bleeding deep blue like the sky. Nick could break your heart as soon as look at you, and he fingered the guitar like it was the last he had of the girl he’d never finished losing.

I didn’t get to find a seat. Three steps onto the dance floor and I was lost. With the back-beat snapping and the guitar screaming and Nick’s voice weaving low through ‘em, it sounded like the throbbing Juno’s fingers gave me, and the way he pulsed in mine.

I danced off the months of rain until my dress got as dry as my throat. I’d been so long always being soaked and never being wet. My hips danced round with all the ghosts that filled the hall. Ella and Leadbelly and Etta and Billie. Time went liquid, their words washed over me, wave after wave, until the band broke at the end of the first set. It was perfect—as perfect as life could be with Juno gone.

At the bar between sets I found some nut-dark beer, poured it over my tongue, and looked around for the first time. Lots of old familiars. The dead weren’t the only ghosts here tonight.

“Give me a Jack and Coke, light on the Coke.” A gruff, raspy-sounding bear-man rapped on the bar. I couldn’t see his face without looking, and I didn’t want to look, but his hands looked like they’d been built up working on engines. Thick calluses, grease under his nails. Might’ve been a biker once. He set down next to me and stared straight ahead. “It’s a special night here, you know.” There wasn’t no mirror behind the bar, so he just studied the bottles on the rack. I didn’t say a thing, but I didn’t want to get up, neither. I was gonna dance myself to death when they come on the stage next, and no way I’d leave just to let him have the bar. It was my night. Maybe the last one I’d ever get. I wasn’t gonna waste it getting picked up by white trash.

End of Sample. End of sample. ©2009 J. Daniel Sawyer, All Rights Reserved

Read the rest on your Kindle, from Nook, or other ebook reader.

On the other hand, there is Powell’s. And The Montage. And the other things about Portland that keep me coming back for a visit every now and then even though the weather is appalling and the streets are paved with potholes and designed according to arcane 1950s theories of traffic control that bear as much resemblance to the patterns of human travel as does spontaneous human combustion to real-world thermodynamics.

These are the kind of thoughts you have after a ten hour drive up from San Francisco with the always entertainingly snarky Gail Carriger in search of a novel con-going experience.

It was novel–or, at least, a chapter and a half of a novel plus a short story. I write a lot at cons during the downtime, and OryCon had some very comfortable seats in the bar (and in the panel rooms) that were well-tailored to the task of keeping my ass affixed to them. As cons go, it was uneventful — low key, some interesting bits of programming, lots of wifi, but in general it had that Portlandy vibe, with which I have an infamous love/hate relationship.

After all, I did live here for a couple years, and in that time I grew to love the landscape, made some very good friends, and had a marvelous time, discovered some wonderful restaurants, venues, and cultural hotspots, all while growing to hate the weather, the politics, and the general dreary-perpetual-fight-against-depression-and-oppression feel of the place. I’m a spoiled Bay Area native–you can tell, can’t you?

So, I’m forced to admit that, by the end of the con, I was exhausted. It’s hard to be simultaneously having a good time and irritated to death, but Portlandiness does that to me, and in the midst of admittedly good and productive times, it wore me down.

Powell’s, which is possibly the greatest book store chain on earth, is a Portland-area legend, and for good reason. Walking into one has for me the same pornographic appeal that walking into a teddy-bear outlet has for a Plushie. I had to resist, very diligently, the urge to pluck the uncorrected galleys of Glory Road off the shelf and take it home with me. Last night, they had an uber-signing: 31 (or so) science fiction authors packed the Beaverton branch for an hour-and-a-half marathon session. (I wasn’t signing, I was off to the side writing another chapter).

I’ve always thought the best part of cons are the unexpected meetings, and this one was no different. In this case, just after the signing, I walked into a bar with Gail Carriger, M.K. Hobson, and a handful of other young-and-hungry Steampunk authors and their entourages, only to see before me a table peopled with authors who I recognized, all of whom were a generation older.

My policy when engaging in shop talk: go for the experience. I introduced myself, they remembered me from my occasional blog comments and invited me to join them for dinner. I spent the next three hours talking shop with Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Dean Wesley Smith, and Adrian Phoenix, along with con-organizers John Lorentz and Ruth Sachter. This alone was easily worth the time the trip took–when people who have been in an industry long enough to know its rhythms (and who are very deliberately feeling out the tech and legal trends that acre currently wreaking creative destruction) are willing to discuss their thoughts, entertain debate, and gab about aspects of your business that are difficult to research, you make time in your evening for it.

It was also fabulously entertaining–a whole table full of folks whose sense of humor is more twisted than mine. Not often I run into that, but boy is it fun when I do!

So, recommendations for OryCon:
Their panels on violence are world class, no kidding. They are a must-attend for any fiction writer (though if you have a weak stomach, you might need to look away from the slide show screen from time to time). The people who run it (and evidently it’s a yearly fixture) are some of the acknowledged world experts on the physiology and psychology, and other panelists are trained killers. I went for research concerning the upcoming book on firearms, and left with a reading list for prep work for book 2 in the firearms series.

Likewise, the panels on costuming and particularly on bodypainting are very well-run. I get the sense that this is a core competency of the Portland fan community, and if your interests run in these directions, you’d be well served to attend.

Also, if you value your palate, As con food goes, the food at OryCon is passable, but not great, while the prices are too high for what they’re selling compared to even the Bay Area cons (which, being in the Bay Area, have far more business being pricey, yet are mysteriously more reasonable on the food). The con hotel sits in the midst of a number of excellent restaraunts–a short walk will be rewarded with gustatory satisfaction without undue pain on the wallet.

Now, back to writing. Maybe I can knock out most of the rest of a novel before SteamCon…?

The first volume in the new Clarke Lantham Mysteries is now available at all your favorite online book retailers, in all ebook formats. This is the beginning of a year-long experiment with ebooks and other maverick content delivery techniques, and Lantham (in all his snarky, darkly-comic glory) is the headline star.

Today is the day to rush the markets — for only $3.20, what have you got to lose? Find it at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

To mark the occasion, there are a few things in store today. First, I’m launching a new website, specifically for the Lantham series, which you can find here. It has a series map and other stuff related to the current and upcoming mysteries. Only a little bit there right now, but it’s still worth the jaunt over. Check it out!

Second, I’ll be doing a live call-in show on Podioracket’s Blogtalk Radio show tonight at 6pm Pacific time. Join me, grill me, hear readings from the book. I’ll be yours for a whole hour, maybe two.

Of course, if you’ve never read e-books before, I’ve written a handy dandy quickie guide to the subject, applicable to all cell phones, e-readers, mobile devices, and computer platforms.

Finally, just in case you don’t know what all this hullabaloo is about, here’s the back cover summary:

A man of infinite social grace he isn’t, but what former disgraced Oakland Police Detective Clarke Lantham lacks in high culture he makes up for with his ability to slip into any role he needs to to get the job done (which is probably why he got fired in the first place).

From the posh shadow of Mount Diablo to the kink clubs of San Francisco to the genetic engineering labs of Stanford, Clarke Lantham chases down pieces of the weirdest puzzle he’s ever seen, all for the sake of a nineteen-year-old girl whose face he can’t stop seeing every time he closes his eyes.

Head on over and pick up your copy now — it’s already getting great reviews!

But first, I begin with a special treat for my free-wheeling brewer friends. Beer has always been a problem in space — not because of drunk piloting, but because weightlessness does weird things to the sense of taste. There’s also the question of what the bubbles will do to the body, and how drinkable beer will be in zero G anyway. Fortunately, someone is officially working on these problems so that we can take into space with us the drink that made civilization possible in the first place: Click here for Space Beer!

Now, on to the main courses:

Consumerism
As part of the Book Retailer wars, Sears will double your Christmas shopping budget by effectively giving away free books.

Autodidacticism

Can’t afford a Harvard education, but have the drive and desire to get one? Well then, today’s your lucky day. Harvard has started offering some classes online for free

History
Bet you, like most people born after WW2, thought Color Photography didn’t really get going until the late 1930s, right? Well, think again. Here’s some gorgeous Color Photos from the great depression in Colorado and some even more amazing Color photos from Imperial Russia (the Ukraine and Uzbekistan, near as I can make out).

Writing
If you live with a writer, or are dating a writer, or think writers are sexy (we are), there are a few things you should know.

Here’s some advice I should pay more attention to: How to write magnetic headlines

An attempt to make an IMDB for Speculative Fiction books and audio: SpecFicDB

For those of you looking to get press for your new indie book, or those of you looking to sample something that’s not just published slush, here’s an Aggregate list of indie book reviewers

Some delightful fan mail from the Golden Age Science Fiction magazines, all written by girls.

Jordan Summers has a series of reports from the Novelists Inc. conference on piracy, some low-down contractual moves by publishers as they panic in the new marketplace, and more. A must read for any writer.

Vanity
Fair Warning: These next couple writing-related links feature me. First, my post on The Creative Penn’s blog about How To Survive the Ebook Apocalypse

And then, there’s an hour of me talking turkey and story with Mark Jeffrey on his video podcast This Week in Books The goofy looking guy is me.

Science
The man who gave us The Thumbprint of God, Benoit Mandlebrot, died this week. Check out his glorious TED talk here. If you don’t know who Mandlebrot was, or how he and a few of his friends fundamentally changed the game in ever sphere of life, check out This BBC Documentary

Over in Climate-change land, the fight has broken into four camps: The alarmists, for whom we are all doomed and deserve it as punishment for our technological/capitalistic sins; The Warners, who think we’d better do something so we don’t royally screw ourselves; the Skeptics, who are cautiously doubtful of policy prescriptions but also cautiously accepting of a preponderance of evidence; and the Deniers, who think it’s all a left-wing anti-business plot (this taxonomy stolen shamelessly from Stuart Brand). Sometimes, there’s an interesting dataset that allows the skeptics and Warners to make common cause, despite any underlying differences, because they share the same respect for good science. Here’s one such instance, very intelligible to laypeople: a climate history that takes into account all known natural climate cycles AND anthropogenic effects.

If you ever lost a pet as a child, chances are you heard some version of the “Doggie Heaven” story. The one I heard was that Heaven will be happy, and if I want my dog when I’m there, she’ll be there waiting for me. Of course, as we get older we realize that this is a lie told to us by well-meaning parents who, regardless of whether they believe in human heaven or not, don’t really believe in doggie heaven. After all, dogs don’t have a spirituality, do they? Well, according to new neurological research, if humans have anything that can be called “spiritual awareness,” then so do dogs, and most other higher animals.

Social Scientists have a lot to say about educational policy,economics, politics, family values, and culture, so sometimes it’s important to step back and take a long hard look at what they do and do not actually know at this point in history. (This is an excellent article)

Ethics:
And, finally, from the philosophy of ethics department, a paper that argues lucidly that you can’t be good without Science Fiction.

More Reprobates and the final Balticon Adventure next week!
And don’t forget to buy the new Clarke Lantham mystery And Then She Was Gone next Friday!

I haven’t read it yet myself, but at his best, Harwood is phenomenal. Here’s the PDF so you can judge for yourself. Take a gander — if you like it, head on over to Amazon and grab a copy, or get a signed hardcover special edition directly from Seth’s website.

And speaking of crime, remember: Clarke Lantham arrives in ten days!

This week’s Link Salad contains elements of science, sex, publishing market reports, book reviews, and is garnished with interesting cultural tidbits. Here you go:

Publishing:
The Mammoth Book of Steampunk is now open to Submissions and Recommendations. So if you know any stories (cough-Cold Duty–cough) you think should go in there, now’s the time to go mention them–they’re looking for reprints until Oct 31. They’ll be looking for original stories after that.

Matthew Leiber Buchman is doing a blog series, detailing how he sold a four-book series (including doing all the negotiation) without the help of an agent–not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t get anyone to take a freebie commission. Astounding story — and VERY useful information for those of you who, like me, are currently churning through the New York and London markets. Find it here (link to the second post in the series, about the query that sold).

Icarus Magazine, a semipro gay SFF market, is now open again. Details here.

Science:
Economist Robin Hanson is “shaken to the core” by Sex at Dawn. His review is very provocative and interesting in its own right and has convinced me to put this book on my reading list.

How would you like to travel to Mars in less than ten days? For those of you who thought the fast space travel in Predestination bordered on the silly, check out the new designs for the deuterium-fusion pulse drive which will do just that.

And for the truly radical (and speculative) in physics, check out this proposal for synthesizing degenerate matter made my head hurt so good.

Culture:
Clay Shirty explains why he thinks that we are not yet tapping our ultimate resource: Cognitive Surplus.

Clarissa Thorn, professional sex educator and kink activist, talks in depth about the demonization of male sexuality.
In a paper which has implications for writers in characterization, as well as far-reaching implications for politics, psychology, and business ethics, The Harvard Business Review goes against the current cultural tide by talking about how powerlessness creates a self-perpetuating cycle of corruption and collapse.

Ethics philosopher Jonathan Harris tackles a BIG taboo Cannibalism!

Politics:
From Blake Charlton, a very good overview (and fairly dispassionate) of the different attitudes and concerns of people about Health Care Reform (explains what the policy is, talks about why people don’t like it. As someone who is marginally irritated with the law, I found this very fair and well done): click here

I kid you not. This is indispensable. Here’s the link again. It’s the kind of information I started ANMAP to help disseminate. Go there. Now.

Now, back to producing the next podcast (hopefully tonight) and the next Principles of Contracts article (Thursday), and prepping for a big announcement (Monday).

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“Picard, I could blast this ship out of existence if I felt like it. I could grow hair on your head. Turn your crew into embryos, force Worf to recite doggerel. I could turn your ship inside out, your reality outside in. I am not being condescending, Picard… not that I’m incapable of it, you understand, but this simply isn’t one of the times. Now, what I most definitely am, Picard, is arrogant. Why? Because I have a reason to be. I have a right to be. So… mortal… what’s your excuse?”

Harlan Ellison is arguably the least popular author in science fiction, because his personal reputation (some of which, he’s the first to admit, he worked hard to earn) paints him as something in between Q and the unholy hybrid of Ross Perot and a pissed off garden gnome. He’s also one of the greatest living authors in the world; the quality of his stories, and their diversity, is such that he’s never been out of work since he started selling consistently in the 1950s and 60s.

He edited the two greatest anthologies in the history of the genre, he penned the Star Trek episode that showed the possibilities inherent in Gene Roddenberry’s lovably hokey show, his influence on and friendship with J. Michael Straczynski were instrumental in bringing Babylon 5 to market (thus giving Ellison an instrumental hand in two of the most historically important Science Fiction dramas, as measured by their effect on culture–in Star Trek’s case–and on the nature of televised drama in the case of Babylon 5). He’s the author of two of the most reprinted stories in history. He nursed the New Wave movement of the 60s and 70s to something artistically and culturally important, with ramifications far beyond Science Fiction.

A lot of my friends (as in, almost all of them) can’t stand him. Some will go into fits of huffing and profanity when he come sup in conversation (as will a much greater number of my casual acquaintances). He’s an irascible bastard, with very little patience for those who (in his opinion) don’t get it. He’s scrappy, picks fights whenever he can, and is a master of scandalizing the easily scandalized. And arrogance? Yeah, he’s got a lot of that.

And you know what? I don’t care. Normally I’d smile and nod, but it’s time to go on record saying I don’t give a good goddamn if Harlan Ellison is an asshole. Although I enjoy being kind to people whenever possible and dislike cruelty, I always have and always will admire Harlan’s work ethic, his devotion to excellence, his impatience with half-assedness, his integrity, and the amazing quality of his work over a more-than-fifty year writing career.

So, like Peter David’s Q said, yeah, he’s arrogant. And if you have a problem with that, I gotta ask: What’s your excuse, mortal? I certainly don’t have one. I haven’t earned that right. If I live long enough and write well enough, I might have a ghost of a chance of earning it, but that day is decades off (at best).

I think it’s an important thing to say, and to say now. Because, you see, Harlan is dying. Today, he is appearing at MadCon in Madison, Wisconson, and it will be his last public appearance. Ever.

You can read Harlan’s announcement here.

There are only a very few people left who have been around our field since the beginning, or nearly so. Harlan Ellison, Frederick Pohl, Robert Silverberg, Ursula K. Le Guin, Ray Bradbury, Jack Vance, Anne McCaffrey, Harry Harrison, Brian Aldiss, James Gunn, Michael Moorcock. I might have missed one or two, but the fact remains: I can now count our living history in names that don’t even take up all my fingers and toes.

These are the people we owe our field to. Their stories, and the tales of those who came before them starting in the 1920s, have helped shape our civilization, because they inspired the scientists that entered the space program, that powered the computer revolution, who pioneered the internet, and who are now powering the biotech revolution. They are the visionaries whose dreams our stuff is made of.

If you are fortunate enough to be in the room with any of these people, treasure the chance. Listen to their stories. Remember the history. They’re going fast, and I suspect that most of us in the under fifty category won’t realize how precious they are until it’s far too late.

But I can’t put it of any longer—needs must, and I have to move on from Balticon to the next grand adventure, so I endeavor to finish this story.

Saturday began with an argument. The clock wanted to convince me that it was almost time for my first panel. I told it that it was full of shit and really needed to get a life. It countered by telling me I now had one minute less than I used to, so I’d better get my ass moving.

By moving, I mean that I needed to get showered and then contrive some way to dry off in the 80% humidity, then get into my semi-fancy duds (I actually tried to get into my fancy duds, but three seconds after I got into that monkey suit I found myself developing a seriously advanced case of heat exhaustion, so I immediately stripped and re-evaluated my options, settling on the disreputable getup I appeared in, with minor variations, all weekend, on the grounds that it was the only set of clothes I brought that was anywhere near livable in that god-awful swamp heat that east-coasters think of as “nice weather.”)

I actually managed to make it downstairs in time to grab something resembling breakfast (by which I mean a glass of iced tea and a handful of strawberries), before stumbling blindly into the Audio Masters Workshop scheduled for the purgatorially early hour of 9:00AM (which, for those of you keeping score at home, is 6:00 AM by my body clock, a time when I’m more normally deciding it might be a good time to wrap up my writing for the night and get some shut-eye before my regular noontime mixing appointment).

Nonetheless, under the guiding hand of Chooch Schubert and alongside the erudite John Taylor Williams, and the slightly insane but always entertaining Arioch Morningstar, we engaged in a mighty staggering jaunt through the world of audio tech and technique, much to the bafflement and occasional entertainment of the packed audience, many of whom seemed just as flummoxed by the earliness of the hour, low blood sugar, and the shocking lack of iced tea as I was (or perhaps I’m projecting).

Fortunately, I escaped with my skin—even took a chance to plug Brass Farthing, the fabulous mostly a-capella group headed by George Chlentzos, who plays Doug Reeves in The Antithesis Progression novels. I slipped away to the bar, where I acquired something approximating food (good food, if typically overpriced) and bumped into P.C. Haring, who was most kind in showing me around the hotel where I hadn’t quite got my bearings yet.

First stop: the Dragon Moon table to sign a few copies of The Podthology and harass Tee Morris, Pip Ballantine, P.G. Holyfield, Chris Lester, P.C. Haring, Michael Spence…actually, come to think of it, a good sized chunk of the universe started congregating there shortly before I arrived. There were the obligatory hat photos, book signings, and body part signings…ah memories…but I digress.

Enough of the universe was there, in fact (and, thanks to Senor Ubernemesis, stealing my hat), that I nearly ran late for my next panel, the one I’d been dreading. Ever since I’d seen it on the program, I was sure that I was walking into an ambush. Why would I think that? Well, the panel was called Is There Room In The Fridge, Hon?, and I was the only male on the panel.

Yeah. Kim the Comic Book Goddess, who put the panel together, obviously had it in for me. Revenge for the cliffhanger end of Predestination, no doubt. What else was I to do? I pulled my brim low over my eyes and girded up my silk brocade vest, put my cell phone on vibrate, and marched in there expecting the worst.

And it turned out to be a hell of a panel. Not revenge for Predestination, but quite the opposite—there were a lot of kind words for my particular efforts to subvert the Women In Refrigerators trope, and the conversation turned into a delightful talk about the different ways authors use characters as naked plot devices, and how sexuality plays into character development even in g-rated stories. When the audio comes up on the Balticon Podcast, I recommend it.

The remainder of my afternoon consisted mainly of sitting in the bar and having long involved debates over skepticism, economics, and the proper place of Tribbles in a kinky geek life—that last one got kinda messy. Don’t ask. Suffice it to say that I nearly missed the next panel, Chris Lester’s Metamor City Live show, during which I played Artax, sans accent.

In my defense, I actually did practice the accent on the plane between G-Rated Fight Club showings, but the moment I walked into the ninety-degree-plus media room all ability to do an accent left me. Did I mention that I have an uncomfortable relationship with heat?

The rest of the evening—and weekend, for that matter—is a hell of a blur. P.G. Holyfield, Nathan Lowell, and Patrick McLean’s hysterical launch party. A delightfully disreputable incident involving Mur Lafferty, Paulo Bagipliuci, Gail Carriger, a number of martinis, and passers by giving us dirty looks. I also engaged in a couple impromptu Leonard Cohen concerts—first in a round robin group setting with Kim Fortuner on piano, and then later on in a trio with Phil Rossi and Starla Huchton. In both cases, loads of fun, both for the singing itself and for the shocked looks on people’s faces who didn’t expext that a gruff looking hobbit could actually sing (they obviously haven’t seen the Rankin Bass production of The Hobbit).

Saturday and Sunday night, both nights, I snuck up on the sun from behind (and, really, if you *have* to interact directly with a gigantic fusion bomb, the best way is to sneak up on it from behind). Saturday, it was in the courtyard with a crowd of folks I’d barely met before, excepting Starla and Chooch. I don’t remember a lot of it, to be honest—jetlag has interesting effects on the brain, but there were a lot of wonderful songs, including a quite striking original composition by Starla.

Sunday, Chooch and Viv hosted a party in their room (and on their lawn, much to the chagrin of the neighbors). Like in Hotel California, some drank to remember and some drank to forget, but I smoked an excellent Rocky Patel with Sheila Dee while talking photography with Michelle Beckmeyer (who also stole my hat). I also discovered that I need to take out a restraining order against my evil laugh, which has developed a reputation of its own and became the subject of an interesting wager over the course of the party, somewhere between the cigars and the point just before dawn where I was talking about Stephen King with Paul Elard Cooley.

Also somewhere in the dark, there was a protracted debate involving Gail Carriger, Peter V. Brett, Kim Fortuner, and Paul Elard Cooley on the merits of historical fantasy and vintage Science Fiction with respect to feminism, but it was so rapid fire that I regret to report that it’s mostly a blur, and the witty ripostes must remain unrepeated and unattributed to protect the dignity of the participants (myself not least among them).

Monday’s harsh light found me stumbling my marginally-coherent way back to bed. The rest of Monday, well, that’s next week’s story.

Next time: The Voyage Home

Going to Mars presents a number of problems for us, both in transit and in the ways Mars is inhospitable (Mary Roach, author of Stiff, has a great new book on the subject). Mars, for example, has weather which will make some of the lessons we learn from a Lunar colony hard to cross-apply. But it does have soil, which Luna doesn’t. Either way, if we’re gonna live there a long time, it’s gonna have to get an oxygen atmosphere and an ecosystem.

Terraforming–big word for a big operation. How would we even begin to do it?

Turns out, Charles Darwin was at the back of the world’s first experiment in terraforming. With the help of the Royal Navy, he created an artificial ecosystem. New Scientist has a great article on it.

Specifically, the word “conspiracy” came up a few times, as in “Do they really expect us to believe scientists are in a conspiracy about the Big Bang?”

So why would I, someone who publicly fancies himself a fairly rational fellow, post something that smacked of conspiracy thinking and call it “interesting?” Because I think there’s a difference between a conspiracy and a paradigm, and it starts with understanding how scientific theories work.

Scientific Theories

In common parlance we use “theory” in the same kind of way Spock uses it on Star Trek: i.e. as an idea that gets troublesome problems out of your hair. For example, “I have a theory, Captain: in order to save the Enterprise, you must seduce the alien’s girlfriend” is not a theory, it’s a policy recommendation designed to remove something troublesome (i.e. Kirk) from the speaker’s (i.e. Spock’s) immediate view, perhaps permanently (i.e. when the phaser-weilding alien catches Kirk boinking the girlfriend).

The closest we get to this kind of thing in science is an hypothesis—“hypo” from the Greek meaning “deficient” or “underdeveloped” and “thesis” meaning “idea” or “argument.” A hypothesis is a guess phrased in such a way that it can be proved wrong if an experiment or discovery goes the wrong way. As an explanation, it doesn’t yet have a good body of experiments establishing that it’s likely correct. If you have a guess about how plants grow, but can’t yet offer supporting evidence, you have a hypothesis.

A “theory,” on the other hand, is what happens when hypotheses grow up. A theory is an explanation for a group of related facts that has withstood (or been changed by) a great deal of experimentation. Because theories are always constructed in a way that makes them vulnerable to contrary evidence, no theory is ever “proved,” it is only “established.” In other words, a theory is what happens when you fail often enough, and learn from it.

One quick note on facts: when it comes to science, facts are almost worthless. It’s not that they’re irrelevant, but rather that all of science exists to explain facts. We’re at no loss for facts, the problem is the opposite: we’ve got too many of them, and they don’t make sense unless we can establish the relationships between them. Theories are the tentative maps of those relationships.

Thomas Kuhn and the Fastest Gun In The West

There was a philosopher in the 1960s who caused a big stink by taking this basic premise (that theories are only “established” and not “proved”) one step further and arguing that theories were essentially fashions, having no dependable relationship with either facts, good theory, or the truth. His name was Thomas Kuhn, and he made this argument in a paper (and book) called The Structure of Scientific Revolutions.

These fashions, he called “Paradigms,” and he argued that they are enforced by the academic and scientific establishment, which squeezes out competing theories and contrary data until enough contrary data exists for younger scientists (i.e. the ones without an investment in the status quo) to come along and wreak havoc. Thus, he argued, science is a socially constructed and socially determined endeavor, not a search for truth or a method for discovering and minimizing error. As a sociologist at the height of the social determinism and constructivism movements, he makes an ironic poster child for his own argument.

So, by Kuhn’s lights, the only time science ever advances (and it doesn’t really ever advance, it just changes fashions) is when enough young hotshots gun for the old coots that they succeed in overthrowing the old dominant theoretical structure and replacing it with a new one. This phenomenon he called a “Paradigm Shift.” And yes, he invented that term.

Kuhn’s notions have permeated deep into popular culture, which already had an erroneous idea of science as THE TRUTH and the source of CERTAINTY (capitalization intentional). As you can guess, it helped make the whole scientific enterprise deeply suspect. Kuhn’s thesis has become an under-girding element of postmodern epistemology and philosophy, and has had a number of other interesting knock-on effects.

It turns out that most of the history Kuhn relied on to make his arguments was incorrect–he was, after all, a sociologist and not an historian, and as Rodney Stark demonstrates, it’s very easy for a very good sociologist to get himself into trouble when he makes sweeping arguments based on a naive understanding of history. The book Thomas Kuhn in the Light of Reason goes through Kuhn’s work with a much-needed critical eye, and is very accessible. Kuhn greatly exaggerated his conclusions and was wrong about some of its mechanisms, but he does deserve credit for spotting a legitimate social dynamic at work.

So, stripping it of some of the bullshit that Kuhn’s over-ambition imbued it with, a paradigm is a collection of theories that comprise an overarching model of the world. And Kuhn was right about something important: Science advances because researchers try like hell to poke holes in the existing theories. Shooting the old fastest gun in the west is a great way to make a name for yourself, or get a Nobel prize. Stephen Hawking made his name paradigm busting, and he helped the same kind of thing.

Conspiracies

Where a paradigm is a structure of theories, a conspiracy is a collusion of people to suppress or obscure the truth, or to frustrate attempts to reveal the truth. Denialists often invoke the language of conspiracies to explain why their ideas are not accepted by the mainstream. Some examples:

The film Expelled posits a widespread conspiracy among scientists to suppress the fact that the theory of Evolution is contradicted by almost all of the facts, and to punish scientists who believe in God. The conspirators allegedly do this in order to advance a utopian social vision.

Holocaust deniers posit a widespread conspiracy among veterans, historians, the media, and others to pretend that the holocaust happened, in order to provide a public justification for the existence of the state of Israel.

Climate denialists posit a nearly perfect collusion of scientists across a wide variety of disciplines in order to whip the public into a frenzy, secure funding, and (depending on who you talk to) transfer national sovereignty to the United Nations.

All these theories, and all other conspiracy theories, depend on three notions: 1) A large number of people have a vested interest in lying about information that is publicly accessible, 2) that vested interest is directed toward a set of articulable ends, and 3) despite the thousands of people involved, they maintain near-perfect discipline and informational control.

Pretty damn unlikely.

That’s not to say conspiracies don’t exist — they do. A conspiracy assassinated Abraham Lincoln, another one led by Deitrich Boenhoffer failed do assasinate Hitler. Read properly, the dealings that brought the U.S. Constitution into existence could be plausibly described as a conspiracy. But the problem with conspiracies is that people talk. Information control is difficult, and becomes exponentially more difficult the larger the conspiracy gets.

History is littered with failed conspiracies (such as the Watergate cover-up) because, as one of history’s most successful professional conspirators and revolutionaries said, “Three may keep a secret, so long as two of them are dead.”

(That was Ben Franklin, by the way, in Poor Richard’s Almanac).

Gunning for the Nobel Prize

So when you’ve got stories about scientific revolutions happening–and there are a lot of them going on right now, it’s an exciting time–don’t mistake the excitement of a paradigm-buster who’s trying to prove the old guard wrong and experiencing social resistance for a paranoid conspiracy theorist. They can sound similar on the surface (in the same way, and for the same reasons, that Climate Denialists and Climate Skeptics can), but when you dig deeper, you’ll discover this distinction:

The Paradigm-buster or skeptic is interested in fixing an outstanding (and often a very widely acknowledged) problem with the state of scientific knowledge.

The Denialist or Conspiracy Theorist is interested primarily in fomenting paranoia and discrediting an existing social power structure by any means necessary (including character assassination, dishonesty, and intimidation).

These categories aren’t ironclad–humans are complicated. Sometimes legitimate skeptics get so angry they act like denialists. And sometimes Conspiracy theorists are really slick and can maintain for a long time the illusion that they’re only interested in the science. Eventually, though, people do tend to sort themselves fairly dependably into one category or another on a given topic.

I’d love to carry on the conversation–please post your comments below!

P.S. For those of you wanting more background on yesterday’s article and the topics it’s addressing, check out Lawrence Krauss giving a lecture on contemporary cosmology, and you can get a multi-perspective quickie overview on this BBC Horizon Documentary about the current cosmological revolution. In both cases, the scientists involved are quite open about the problems posed by Dark Matter, Dark Energy, and other X-factors. It is these X-factors that the article I linked to yesterday is attempting to address.

Sometimes, though, the exciting stuff happens in the sciences. When the incentive system works, the new kids on the block go gunning for the old theories–you make your name by going after the Fastest Gun In The West. With all the fun stuff going on recently with Dark Matter and Dark Energy playing havoc with Inflationary Cosmology, a lot of people have been waiting for the other shoe to drop: at some point, some young and hungry cosmologists are going to try like hell to blow up the Big Bang.

Well, it happened. Whether it will prove a better model, it’s too early to tell. But it is a hell of an audacious theory-in-progress, and lots of fun to read about, so I thought I’d share it with all of you. Enjoy!

Next time: Nothing But Net

At this point in the narrative, I’m forced to chose between one of two roads. I could go along the chronology, skipping the boring and blackmail-worthy parts along the way, or I could chose a theme and tell its story…or I could jump back and forth between each as my fancy strikes me.

Guess which one I’ve picked?

It wasn’t until my appearance on Litopia last December that I began to realize the Power of the Hat ™. First, there was the encounter I recounted last time with Kim the Comic Book Goddess (who insists she’d have recognized me without the hat, but I have my doubts). Then there was the fact that Scott Roche and Sidfawu accosted me based solely upon the Power of the Hat, and we wound up sitting in the bar for several hours on Friday night talking Down From Ten, writing, and what passes for politics in my demented corner of the universe.

But before all that boring stuff, you’ll want to hear The Good Parts.

Much to my surprise, I arrived in time for my appearance as a guest troublemaker…um…panelist on The Good Parts, during which time we talked with great seriousness and deliberation about the influence of Catholicism on Erotica, Erotica markets, why Erotica writers are more conservative than mainstream fiction writers, and why J. Daniel Sawyer can’t resist telling a bad Vatican joke whenever he gets the chance (ok, we didn’t talk about that, but I’m sure that’s what you’ll be wondering after you listen to the ‘cast). The terrifyingly intelligent Kathryn Lively of Logical Lust/Mundania Press joined me as a guest and mutual foil to Nobilis and Cynical Woman’s normal crosstalk. It was a lively session indeed (pun intended), but I did manage to escape with my politically-incorrect (from any point of view) skin intact to take refuge once again in the bar, where I was accosted by the aforementioned shady characters. Gail found me there, drowning my sorrows in iced tea and talking epistemology, and while she and I sat talking Mur Lafferty wandered by.

The host of I Should Be Writing and editor of Escape Pod — drawn by the power of the hat (okay, the fact that I had her favorite ever show guest on my arm probably didn’t hurt, but it’s my hat and I can fetishize it if I want). After a delightful introduction, Gail and Mur flitted off with the New Yorkers to talk shop, while Nathan Lowell and Scott Roche introduced me around.

And this, dear reader, is where the Hat shows its true power. I was shaking hands with…Mae Breakall, I think? I can’t remember who, honestly, because I heard behind me “Oh my god it’s Dan Sawyer!” I turned around just in time to catch a short grey-shirted bundle of energy running up to hug me to death. Once I was satisfied that death was not in the cards, I collected enough of my wits to introduce myself to, it turns out, Heather Welliver, whose voice (I’m proud to admit) stole my heart in the intro to Pieces, and who graciously appeared in Predestination as Shayna Takahashi, and who is every bit as fabulous in person as she is on pod.

My welcome the rest of the con was similarly warm (thankfully, not in the thermal sense – the air conditioner was a life saver) and shocking, but none of it was matched by the dirty, foul, evil prank played upon me by podfather Tee Morris, he of the shameless self-promotion. Tee, in what I can only assume was an attempt to keep me on my toes, put out a twitter bounty on my hat. Over the course of the con, a number of people hunted me down specifically to STEAL my hat.

Let me say that again.

THEY STOLE MY HAT.

And then forced me, when I had a camera handy, to take their picture while wearing it. Theft and extortion, all in one package. And I have only one thing to say about this:

Your ass is mine next Balticon, Ubernemesis!!!

And yes, I’ll be posting more pictures from the Great Hat Heist in coming blog post.

Believe it or not — this only covers up through Friday night. Saturday was a whole other adventures.

Next time: Ponfication, Panels, and Parties

I normally travel with carry-on baggage only, but it’s not because by the end of a plane ride there’s nothing that gives me greater relief from coach seat-cramp syndrome and DVT than sitting down in another small seat in a moving vehicle. Nor is it that the prospect of walking around an unfamiliar building filled with carousels from deSade’s worst dreams fills me with nauseating dread.

The reason is that if I’m traveling by air, I’m interested in getting where I’m going. Car trips are for taking in the scenery – plane trips are for getting somewhere as fast as possible. Airports, with a few exceptions, are incredibly dull places. Let me put it this way: When was the last time you fond a jacuzzi full of literary intelligentsia well-plied with alcohol in an airport? If you’re anything like me, it’s been a while, and when I’m traveling from home to a convention (two locations highly likely to involve the aforementioned flavor of decadence), there’s precious little an airport can offer that I find the slightest bit interesting (aside from, you know, the plane).

This time, however, I was going to a my first general interest science fiction con entirely as a pro (rather than as a part-time fan), so I thought it important to dress up. I brought a nice sport coat, a pullover or two, some mandarin-collar semi-formals, and threw a mess of more knock-around clothes in for good measure. This put me well over my bag limit, so I had to concede to the eventuality of baggage claim.

I should have brought scuba gear instead.

You see, the eastern seaboard of the U.S. is one long swamp stretching from southern New Jersey right down to the tip of Florida, and swamps are peculiar places. Where most land environments have an atmosphere of air with a little bit of water dissolved in it, the atmosphere in a swamps is basically an above-ground lake with a higher-than-average dissolved oxygen content. The reason H.P. Lovecraft set his stories on the East Coast is because it’s the only place in the U.S. outside of Bayou country where Cthulu could breathe above the ocean surface.

As such, the humidity content on Friday afternoon was such that I could have done far better with gills than I did with lungs, and walking out of the sliding doors at Dulles into the afternoon heat I felt rather like a cheerio left in the bowl overnight on the counter top as the milk curdled around me.

Fortunately, I had swimming alongside me the equally bedraggled Gail Carriger (whose book we found in the Dulles bookshop as well – no wonder she hit the bestseller list!). Despite Gail’s public reputation as a genteel woman of breeding, she gives me a run for my money in the obscenity department when dealing with suspiciously titled “customer service” reps at rental car agencies. At such times she is a veritable font of snark, which more than made up for the sanitized films on the flight. Between that and the silly sing-alongs on the Beltway, one couldn’t ask for a better traveling companion.

An hour and a bit later we rolled happily into the hotel parking lot, both changed clothes in situ in the cab of the teeny rental car, and strolled triumphantly through the gathering dusk to register as both hotel guests and program participants, meeting Kim The Comic Book Goddess on the way in. This was the first of many instances that night where I was identified primarily by my hat — bur more on that later.

Next Time: The Saga Of The Hat

…between the execrable puns that had me wailing in pain and laughter simultaneously (“Not with a whim, but a banker” — you should be utterly ashamed of yourself in the best possible way. I doubt I shall ever have the guts to do *that* to my readers), and the glorious moments of beauty and mourning, it is the best read I’ve had in quite some time, and will, I daresay, be one I re-read just as I do the rest of the best Heinleins on my shelf.

I discovered Robert A. Heinlein when I was twelve, literally on the day he died. I caught my father crying on the porch – not something he was given to doing in public. I asked him what the matter was, and he told me that Heinlein had died – and then he stared at me slack-jawed when he realized I hadn’t a clue who the man was. He took me to the garage, had me pull a box off the top shelf, opened it up, and produced Tunnel in the Sky. He thrust it toward me and said “Read. And when you’re done with this one, read the rest of them in this box.”

I found in Robert’s books exactly the kind of bitch-slap I needed to begin learning to take responsibility for myself, and the beginnings of my formal training in critical thinking, as well as permission to fall in love with life without embarrassment. It felt like mourning the passing of a well-loved uncle when, in 2001, I closed the page on The Star Beast and realized that there was nothing new left – I’d read them all, even Grumbles and Tramp Royale.

For the last few years, I’ve had Variable Star and For Us, The Living sitting on my shelf, waiting for a rainy day. Two weeks ago, after a long stretch of 12-18 hour work days, I took down Variable Star and nursed it for as long as I could, savoring all the echoes of my favorite author coming through the pen of the man he, from what I understand, considered his best successor.

It was a fabulous duet.

Thank you, very much, for having the courage to take it on. There’s one song left on my shelf, and I’m saving it for another rainy day, but for my money you’ve produced a near-perfect elegy in Variable Star.

Damn you for having the balls to quote Ulysses at the end. And thank you, so very, very much, for giving me one last grumble to treasure.

-Dan Sawyer

With all the talk of the podcasting revolution a few years ago, I wonder how many people truly grasp the potential enormity of what we’re doing. Just like good old Mr. Ballantine who invented the paperback, we podcasters are creating new kinds of intellectual property. However, unlike Mr. Ballantine, we don’t fully appreciate what we’re up to.

As a culture we value the Creative Commons, which is (in my opinion) a net good for both our work and for the broader markets we’re trying to engage. However, viewing the CC as the whole picture of intellectual property is, in my estimation, an error.

More importantly, as those of us who have been in the game get more sophisticated about how we do things (using custom-composed music, guest voices, licensing music from other commercial sources), we’re wading into more complicated legal and business territory. Some of us, such as Philippa Ballantine, have gotten broader distribution deals on Internet or satellite radio – others of us struggle ever to get noticed beyond the very niche podcast fiction community.

The bar-raising we’ve been doing is pushing podcast fiction, and perhaps podcasting in general, out of the realm of a hobbyist community and into the realm of being a true grass-roots industry. There will always be hobbyists, of course, and I think we should encourage them every inch that we can. But the last couple years have opened up vast new creative, legal, and business territories that few of us are properly equipped to deal with.

This leaves us vulnerable to the kind of exploitation that went on with musicians in the 1960s. At the Monterey Pop festival in 1967, most of the groups we identify with the hippie movement were signed to record deals. It was, for them, a dream come true – they suddenly had distribution – someone was paying them for their art! The community’s revolution was going mainstream, and the days of begging and busking and eating brown rice to get by were over!

Except that the hippe community, much like our own, had always worked on family trust and handshake deals, so when faced with something on a larger scale offered by people who spoke the right language, they signed up. And most of them got taken. They generated fortunes they didn’t get to participate in, they got locked into indentured servitude-like obligations, and they lost creative control of their own work and catalogs – and they had no one to blame but themselves. They signed the contracts without doing due diligence, and they were so happy at any opportunity for exposure that they literally didn’t look at the fine print.

We don’t want that kind of thing to happen to members of our community/industry. Whether friends or rivals or enemies, I know of nobody on whom I would wish that kind of misery, and I suspect most people in the industry feel the same.

At the same time some of us are scaling up to other opportunities, the gulf between those who have established audiences and those who are new to this is getting pronounced, and it’s getting harder (very subtly) for new voices to find the coaching and advice they need on anything but the most basic issues. Sure, there are a lot of resources about how to use Audacity, or where to find a good USB mic, but there’s very little newbie-accessible information on nailing down advertising deals, or improving one’s mic technique or audio engineering, or making the leap into full cast audio, or creating good working relationships with beta readers or voice actors. Or what about a place to get boilerplate contracts, or marketing strategies, or (for those faced with opportunities they’re not prepared for) good basic business resources?

I think the time has come for us to create an industry association for New Media creators, starting with podcasters. Over the next couple months, both Allen Sale of Astral Audio and I will be working on pilot projects and keeping hold of the resources we generate from them – contracts, tutorials, strategizing, a compendium of podcasts that are friendly to publicity interviews, basic legal and business information that we learn or employ along the way – and we will start packaging them for use by other content creators. When we’ve hit a critical mass, we’re going to look into forming a non-profit with the aim of becoming the SFWA of podcast fiction and YouTube video.

Some very good resources, such as the Podiobooks Mentorship Program, already exist, and what they do is vital. But it’s not enough, not if our industry is to grow beyond its little ghetto and more reliably generate opportunities for us in the broader world. We’re looking to augment what already exists, rather than replace it, and create a resource available to everyone to enable them to play in this sandbox at whatever level they want to, whether it’s as a hobby, a podiobook author, a multimedia producer, or a serious powerhouse transmedia content business. Our community has gotten big enough that it has the potential to get in its own way, and our visibility is still rising and generating opportunities many of us simply aren’t prepared to negotiate.

I think we can do better than the hippies did. I think, if we put together a definitive educational resource pool, the individual artists in our community might be able to transition upward without getting ripped off.
As Allen told me when we talked about this project: “We don’t want to fit in – we want to find ways to stand out so that we can’t be ignored.”

Let’s rock.

Related post from Allen Sale

[Correction: MWS chimed in in the comments to correct my misapprehension of his current attitude toward podcasting, which is considerably more complex than the paragraph above makes it seem. My apologies for inadvertently misrepresenting him.]

The two of them are generation one podiobookers who appeared in the space hot on the heels of the three founders, and seeing them throw in the towel has a lot of other creators wondering: “Are we all just being idiots giving stuff away for free?” And it’s got a lot of fans wondering “What’s going to happen now? Are all my favorite writers going to give up?”

The Gospel of Free has been pinging around the internet for a while now, it’s even got its own official book. There are folks in the fiction space – like Doctorow and Sigler – that have made it the cornerstone of their publicity strategy and turn a consistent profit at it. The use of free content in career building is a well-established promotional strategy, but it’s a difficult tool to use, and suffers from the reductio ad absurdum that most people hear when they first encounter the message, no matter how subtly it’s preached: “If you build it, they will come.”

So if I just put my stuff on the web I’ll find an audience? Well, no. You might find an audience, if you get yourself seen by the right people (and by “right people” I mean people who are prone to telling everybody they know about their latest new and great thing). You might even find a good audience – but you have to bear in mind, “Free” doesn’t mean what you think it does.

Let’s take what I do for free (well, free to my audience): I use a segment of my professional time as a writer and as a sound engineer to produce full-cast audiodbooks. I pay for this – billing my professional time out at normal rates, and factoring in what I pay my actors in trade (whether they’ve collected on it or not), my cost (not including what I should be paying the author) is in the neighborhood of $10-15k. Now, am I out of pocket that much? No. I do go out of pocket a little bit, but not a lot – however, that’s all time stripped out of my life that I could be billing at that kind of rate. If you’ve wondered why I do less in the way of publicity than some other podiobooks authors, now you know – the time is my main expense, and I have a life and a business. I intend, eventually, to have my writing income make up a greater-than-fifty-percent share of my household budget, but I’m not there yet. I’m nowhere near. This is what is called a loss-leader.

In business terms, a loss-leader is the bait on the hook – the hook is what gets the audience to spend money. Matching the right bait to the right hook and fishing in the right water is a learned skill set, and it relies somewhat on how fast one learns from experience, how lucky one is, and (in the writing game) how good a lawyer one is and/or has. There’s a reason more than 75% of authors wash out of the game after their first book contract runs out, and why only a minuscule percentage of people with authorial ambitions ever get even that far – being a good writer is not the same as being a successful author. It’s even possible to be a successful author without being a good writer (for example, Dan Brown), but I wouldn’t bank on it and I know damn few successful authors who would, particularly over the term of a career. Craft does matter – it’s just not all that matters.

If podcasting is your loss leader, what’s your endgame? If all you’re trying to do is get your voice heard, podcasting or blogging your novel is a perfectly fine idea. If you’re looking to get published, it might help, or it might be a distraction or a detriment, depending on your approach and a host of other variables. If you’re looking to build a sustainable long term career as a professional author, it’s time for you to stop and think about a few things before you go into podcasting:

1) What will podcasting give me?
2) What is my professional time worth – and if I were to bill myself for this, how much of a loss will I be taking?
3) What kind of author do I want to be?
4) Why do I think “getting published” is a worthwhile goal?

Why should you stop to think about these things? Because I guarantee you that your answers to at least one of those questions is wrong enough to set you up for some serious disappointment.

What will podcasting give me?
Podcasting will, if you stick with it and actually produce a decent product with broad enough appeal, give you an audience ranging anywhere from a few hundred to maybe twenty thousand regular listeners. If you’re very innovative in evangelizing your product beyond the established fiction podosphere, your chances for good numbers go up. If you host in a high visibility place like Podiobooks and leave your content there for a few years, your numbers will climb over time due to the long tail effect.

Podcasting may also help you learn the market in terms of audience. This is the primary reason I started fiction podcasting: Market research. I was looking to find out what kind of people would enjoy the stories that I’m interested in writing, so that I could figure out how to find and deliver to that market that, in the long term (and I’m talking about a time scale of decades) I will be able to consistently turn a profit on. Notice I said “stories”, not “books” – that will become important later.

Podcasting may give you a creative community – this isn’t something I was looking for, but I have made some friends through the process as well as more than a few good business contacts that have been helpful along the way.

Podcasting (if you’re good at it) will win you respect and accolades as well as the adoration of at least a few fans along the way, and this feels really good. Just remember that, as encouraging as it can be, it’s a limited kind of street cred. Audience tastes change, and what they love about you today they may hate about you tomorrow. Glory feels wonderful, even in small doses, and can put an extra bit of shine on a life well lived, but it will never make up for insecurity or the need for the kind of relationships you can only have with people who really know you.

Podcasting may give you pleasure – if you enjoy the process and enjoy interacting with people, it’s something that you might like even as a hobby.

But unless you are supremely lucky and very canny, there is something podcasting will not deliver: a paycheck of any substance. If you’re expecting to be have your audio audience put you on the bestseller list once you get that book deal, good luck to you. A few people have pulled it off. Those people are, without exception, people that – by chance or by cleverness – wrote exactly to market. They were selling stories that resonated perfectly (or at least well enough) with the public that a larger-than-average segment of their fan base wanted to own a physical copy, and the same larger-than-average segment went out of their way to pimp the shit out of the books to their friends, family, and strangers who might not even own iPods. A few others have pulled it off by their books being noticed on a site like Podiobooks, and subsequently selling film options.

If you want your book to perform well enough to get to your next contract, you need a publishing house that will throw its weight behind you, a print run that is realistically scaled to your book’s performance, and a property that is going to sell in the current market. If you don’t have at least the latter two of these three things, then (again) good luck to you. You’re going to need it.

How Much Is My Time Worth?

I hate to sound like a schoolmarm (or worse), but time that you’re podcasting is time that you’re not doing four other things, all of which are arguably more important. It’s time you’re not making money at whatever your profession is, it’s time you’re not spending with friends and family building the memories that make life with living, it’s time that you’re not learning, and it’s time that you’re not writing.

If you intend to write fiction for any significant fraction of your life, you need to be doing all of those things. You have to write to grow as a writer, and you have to make money to be able to live while you’re writing. But if you have a life that isn’t worth living – say, a life without significant relationships or learning and enrichment – then it’s highly unlikely that you’re going to have anything interesting to write about (and you may be too depressed to write about anything at all, except stories about depression).

Every hour you spend podcasting is billable time – somebody’s paying for it, and it isn’t always just you. Don’t cheat on your mental accounting sheet – There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. Even in a down economy, your time has a dollar value attached to it – figure
out what that value is, and then keep track of what you’re spending. If nothing else, being aware of the cost will help you keep from feeling cheated at the far end if you wind up not getting a good return on your investment, because you’ll be spending on purpose.

What Kind of Author Do I Want To Be?

If you’ve been in and around the writing business for any length of time, you’ve heard the old saw “you can’t make a living as a writer unless you’re in the top 1%.” This bit of conventional wisdom is what lies behind the blockbuster mentality on the part of authors: you want to have a brand name, you want to be the biggest thing ever, and you must relentlessly self-promote (the blockbuster mentality of some publishing houses is another animal entirely, and Charles Stross and Dean Wesley Smith have both covered it very well on their blogs recently).

If you’ve heard that and are still intent on trying, then you are either mind-numbingly stupid, a heroically-minded risk junkie, a hobbyist, or someone who actually has a clue about business and doesn’t listen to the conventional wisdom of creative people (in which case, good for you).

So you want to be the next Dan Brown or Stephanie Meyer? You’d be better off going to Vegas – that kind of trend really is a game of chance, and depends largely (though not entirely) on unforeseeable market forces. That said, there is a whole swath of writers who make a living on their names, which they worked very hard to establish, and who aren’t blockbusters (and yes, Scott Sigler is one of them. He might be a blockbuster by our standards, and his ambition is to be the next Stephen King, but by broader market standards he’s a respectable front-lister, and there’s nothing at all wrong with that).

But blockbusting is not the only way to win this game, and here’s why:

Most authors who make a living at it don’t make a living on their book advances. Oh, the advances help, but they’re not even close to the whole pie. Subsidiary rights sales, foreign rights, royalties from the long tail, article sales, and commissioned work for other commercial ventures (such as being tapped to do a Star Trek or a Dragonlance novel) make up a large part of the income flow, with investments helping keep the rent paid during lean years. These authors generally (though not always) sit solidly on the mid-list, and some of them write under a variety of names for different markets. I know and have known (personally) at least a score of authors who make their living with their words, and the two qualities that distinguish them from the authors I know who haven’t been able to pull it off are: 1) insufferable, bloody-minded perseverance, and 2) continual growth in craft and breadth. In other words, these authors actually treat it like a career, rather than a brass ring.

The truth is that most people who get counted as “authors” in surveys of author incomes are people who publish a single book, or who have a book they haven’t sold. They’re not career writers. They don’t count screenwriters, ad copy writers, stage play writers, or other such folks. In other words, this bit of conventional wisdom is horse shit because it counts every dilettante, aspiring amateur, and washout as an “author.” Authors such people may be, but professionals they ain’t. Some of them will become professionals (I must hasten to add, I’m on this tier — I’m not prolific enough or churning enough cash enough yet to be called a professional, but I’m heading deliberately in that direction) – others are hobbyists. I daresay that if such a survey were taken of all the auto mechanics in the world, with hobbyists and people that change their own oil counted with the same weight as ASE certificate holders, the numbers for auto mechanics wouldn’t be dissimilar to what we hear about with writing.

If you’re looking to do this for a living, writing is a professional business (i.e. a business that relies on being an expert in a particular domain), with all the problems that implies: It relies on individual expertise, a broad skillset, at least a vague awareness of market dynamics, a certain legal acumen, the ability to adapt to contingency, a high tolerance for risk and uncertainty, and a little bit of luck. You know, just like any other non-franchise business.

Why Do I think Getting Published is a Worthwhile Goal?

More than any other question, the answer to this gets to the heart of the matter for an author who is thinking of podcasting their work, because in answering this you’re probably going to answer a significant portion of all the other questions.

My answer to this one is simple: It’s a step on the road. I got a huge thrill with my first short story sale – now, after only a couple more, it’s an exercise in contract negotiations and another tick on the scorecard. It’s fun and exciting, but it’s not the life-affirming experience that the first sale was. Why? Because my sights are on the next set of goalposts, and I need to get to those so I can see the next set, and so on.

But my self-worth is not wrapped up in this. This is business. If I can’t make it work one way I’ll make it work another, and if, in the end, I turn out not to have the chops, I’ll shift my focus and continue writing as a hobby to whatever extent I can justify it. Yes, I am one of those rare people who will write no matter what – it’s the reason I’m making a go of turning it into a profession. But that doesn’t mean that everything I do will be available for free. Some things will, some things won’t – just like, right now, some things are and some things aren’t. My time is billable hourly, and my free stuff is there so that I can 1) build my audience, and 2) learn how to navigate in my marketplace(s). It’s an investment I’m making because it seems sound to me – I know what it costs, and for me the price is right.

Is the price right for you? Think hard about it. I daresay there will always be hobbyists in the podcast fiction space, but if you’re a pro or an aspiring pro, look at it as a business investment. It’s not a magic bullet, and it’s not a shortcut. Even podcasting’s biggest success, Scott Sigler, doesn’t see it as either of those things. Scott needed a platform to prove that there was a market for cross-genre horror, so he essentially invented one. His focus now is on figuring out where the next place to grow his audience is, and what books will be best to write next. There’s a reason he’s made this work, and it goes a lot deeper than “he writes in a popular genre” (although that also is very important).

Wrapping It Up

The Gospel of Free is a pernicious little meme that’s burned out some talented people and seriously burned others, but it’s not a new one. Every get rich quick scheme, every investment bubble, every motivational speaker that comes along has the same basic blend of bullshit and wisdom: “Look at this new thing – it’s no-lose! Look at its merits! Imagine how much you could do with this!” Network marketing, real estate flipping, dot com stocks – there’s always something, and it nearly always takes a pretty clever idea and isolates it from all good business sense.

Don’t fall for it. Free has always been with us, and it’s always been good business when done right. New tools, new media, and new toys are great, but excitement about the opportunities they present can easily obscure the most basic thing about business: supply and demand must meet, and they must trade. If they don’t, then at best what you’ve got is a rewarding hobby, and at worst you’re in a financial disaster. There is no such things as a fast buck except at the craps table, and there is never any such thing as a free lunch.

Me? I’m in this for the long haul. I’m building a business, with all the risk that implies. Right now, my business model includes podcasting. Will it in three years? It depends on what happens between now and then.

So, in sum, my advice to other writers and podcasters, for what it’s worth: Podcast what you will. Keep track of what it’s costing you. Cut your losses if it’s not returning what you need for it to be worthwhile. Above all, don’t buy the bullshit that motivational speakers and other sharks shovel. Celebrity status might be useful, but it’s like Monopoly money: not negotiable currency outside of the small circles that generate it.

For fans of mine and other’s podcast fiction: remember that while this is free to you, it’s not free for us. Your feedback, your cash in the tip jar, and your evangelism are much appreciated. We podcast authors know that we’re being wasteful and reckless – and not all of us will stay in this space forever. For now, I at least am getting what I want out of the bargain, and I do enjoy entertaining you all.

For everyone reading, remember: Life is precious. Don’t forget to enjoy whatever it is you’re doing, and treasure the memories it gives you. Treat your time like an investment, and savor what you buy with it. In the end, the moments are the only thing we have to make a life out of.

Twitter is a mischievous little meme. On that innocent network yesterday, I noticed fellow podcast novelist, and fabulous debate opponent Scott Roche say of science and religion: “the two are examining different things.”

Naturally, being unable to keep my mouth shut on religion, sex, or politics (this is, by the by, why I never stay long on the east coast – I have to leave quickly before I’m shot for violating public decency laws), I retorted immediately saying: “Science and religion can not meaningfully be said to be examining different things.” Hello, fundamental conflict (and, consequently, hellooooo blog content)!

On Scott’s blog he wondered whether we were operating on different definitions of religion, so was kind enough to define religion as “a personal set or institutionalized system of religious attitudes, beliefs, and practices” that, in his estimation, addresses only things that do not belong in the natural world. In other words, religion deals with spirits, gods, angels, demons, and any other supernatural beings which may or may not exist, and its purpose is to put us in touch with whatever we believe about the supernatural.

Science, he goes on to argue, deals with that which exists in the natural world and is (at least in theory) measurable. It is the method by which we divine how one thing is related to another.

Scott’s division of labor between science and religion seems to me to accurately reflect how most people think about the issue, and even on the basis of this postulated Non-Overlapping Magesteria (pace Stephen J. Gould).* History does not reflect this view – it is actually a relatively recent definition arising form the intellectual ferment of the late nineteenth century – so on the face of it I find it suspicious. Frankly, it looks to me like an epistemic** dodge than a genuine description of historical reality – but I’ll leave that aside for now, simply because one of the realities of history is that words do change definitions. I may get back to the history of science and religion in a later post, but for now, I’ll stick to the current situation, and whether or not it matches the definitions Scott proposes.

Sticking strictly to the current state of the world, I think Scott’s argument fails in two important respects.

First, in a practical respect, religion currently serves a number of functions that have only a tangential relationship to the supernatural. It propounds a theory of human nature, and it provides a cosmogony (a set of metaphysical beliefs about things within the universe such as the ultimate nature of reality, the origin and destiny of life, the universe, and everything, the construction of consciousness). It also serves as a platform from which to make pronouncements about morality, relationships, and human flourishing. On every one of these points, religions differ among themselves as to the nature of their claims and functions, but most religions are concerned with most of these areas, and some religions concern themselves with all of them.

Taking them in no particular order, the fields of knowledge and understanding which religion currently claims authority are now well within the purview of the following sciences:

On every score, scientific research confirms some points of religious dogma and contradicts other areas, forcing religions to adapt by either synchronizing or radicalizing on any given point (which, by the by, is why theologians exist – to cope with the discrepancy between received doctrine and contemporary reality).

Continuing in the practical vein for a moment, religion also provides social cohesion and cultural continuity for a large number of people on this planet, including a dependable power structure. On these final two practical points, as well as on issues of morality, religion’s focus is very much on the things of this world (and, often, on securing and/or maintaining power – sometimes political, sometimes military, sometimes interpersonal, and sometimes cultural – in this world). The hegemonic ambitions, large and small, are justified by appeal to the supernatural, but are always, in practice, concerned with controlling the behavior of beings in the temporal world.

Second, on a basic philosophical level, if a supernatural world actually has an intercourse (either perpetual and ever present, as in Hinduism, or incidental and historical as in the monotheisms), then it is at least in principle accessible to natural science at the point of intercourse, and therefore science and religion are both aiming once again for the same territory.

Thus, in both the practical and the philosophical cases, religion and science are very much fighting over the same territory. The nature of this conflict is missed by religious liberals, who have inherited the syncretic mindset and tend to read their scriptures with modern cosmopolitan glasses that retrojects their late, quasi-deistic conception of God back onto times with a far more definite and robust theology. Nonetheless, push hard enough and in the right place, and you’ll find the points at which even liberal religion is on the defensive in the face of scientific inquiry. Need it be this way? That’s a topic for a future blog post, but I can tell you it has not always been this way. Once upon a time in the west, the natural sciences were seen as the handmaiden of theology rather than the other way around.

So, to wrap up, I’m confident in standing by my tweet which opened this conversation. Although religions can (and often do) preserve wisdom worth paying attention to, and often raise questions worth investigating, they are in almost no sense concerned with different things. Now, it may be possible to create a religion that is completely immune to territorial impingement from science forever, but it would not then be legitimate to argue that religion as a phenomenon was free from such a conflict.

Besides, I daresay that a religion which made no claims about reality, made no demands on its patrons, promised no rewards (temporal, eternal, or existential), and said nothing substantive about human nature would maintain a hold on parishioners for very long. Don’t believe me? Look at the thin attendance of liberal protestant churches compared to moderate and conservative ones.

Back to you, Scott!

*magisteria meaning “area of authority”
**epistemic meaning “having to do with one’s theory of knowledge” – in this case, an epistemic dodge is redefining what one means by “knowledge” in order to get around a problem with what one considers “true”

First, the coolest biomedical news this year: Synthetic arteries have arrived.

Second, some really cool news on dog evolution from two fronts. There’s an article discussing the stray dogs in Moscow, and what selection pressures have done to them over the last 100 years. Then there’s the new BBC documentary on how dogs shaped human development, and vice versa – and answers the question “Are dogs smarter than Chimpanzees?” Check out the video here .

Finally, the single most mind-blowing introduction to Chaos Theory I’ve seen or read. Goes into the history, the development, and the implications of the most radically disturbing area of mathematics ever to come around. See it here and prepare to be astounded.

Enjoy! And stay tuned in the next few days for new episodes!

• 1: Download and print these bookmarks.
• 2: Cut along the dotted lines.
• 3: Take to your local libraries and bookstores.
• 4: Leaving a stack near the checkout gets you one point. Put a bunch inside books by Robert A. Heinlein, Stephen R. Donaldson, Philip K. Dick, George R. R. Martin, and Charles Stross for two points. (Do be sure to respect local laws and private property rights).
• Take photos of each instance of bookmark distribution.
• Email photos of your nefarious deeds to me at dan at jdsawyer.net.
• Each point will count as one entry of your name in the hat – so repeat as often as you wish to enter before December 20th.

The winner will be drawn December 21st.
Prize: Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time 2009 Memorial Calender, full of gorgeous artwork.

Here’s your chance to double-dip. Check out Digital Magic and Metamor City for their versions of this same contest. Everyone who enters all three contests will automatically be entered into a second drawing – the prize this time being a package of local edible goodies from San Francisco and New Zealand!

— — — —
Earlier this year a brilliant Vancouver surgeon, Dr. Andresz Busczowski,
helped Hugo- and Nebula-winning science fiction writer and zero-gravity
dancer/choreographer Jeanne Robinson beat back a rare and virulent form of
biliary cancer. But it¹s so rare even he can¹t say how much time heŒs bought
her, how soon it might recur‹and her latest blood tests have been so
discouraging they¹ve now decided she needs to start chemotherapy as soon as
possible. Besides the prescription drugs to counteract the chemotherapy, she
needs special therapies and supplements, counseling, and extensive diet and
lifestyle changes, to reduce her stress level and the strain on her liver to
as close to zero as possible. All those things are expensive…and like many
artists today Jeanne and her writer husband Spider Robinson were already
running on fumes financially.

But Jeanne, a Soto Zen monk, has been spreading love and kindness in all
directions for a long time. So her Buddhist sangha in Vancouver, her
neighbors on Bowen Island, and friends as far away as Florida have all
spontaneously come together to raise funds to help keep her around as long
as possible. Your participation is welcomed. A Bowen benefit concert, ³WE
DREAM FOR JEANNE,² will be held at Cates Hill Chapel at 7:30 PM on Friday
Sept 18 details here; goods or services can be donated for eBay auction by
contacting Jan Schroeder at , and PayPal donations
can be sent to this website.

You can read Jeanne¹s recent blog entry, The Third Act, to get a sense of
how she¹s feeling at this link.

Jeanne and Spider both warmly appreciate your help, support, prayers or just
good thoughts. So does one of the newest visitors to this planet: their
first grandchild, Marisa Alegria da Silva. (seen at Jeanne’s blogsite.)
=====================

Now, a month and a bit on, after much labor and much laughter, I am pleased to present all of you with the world debut of the first chapter of Gail Carriger’s Soulless in full-cast audiobook format (complete with music, soundFX, and soundscaping). This sample offers you a taste of the romp you’ll be in for when you read the book.

You can pre-order Soulless from Amazon, and read Ms. Carriger’s ever-entertaining blog as well.

Cast (in order of appearance)
Angela Vernon as The Narrator
Chris Lester as The Unexpected Vampire
Miss Kalendar as Alexia Tarrabotti
George Chlentzos as Lord Conal Maccon
J. Daniel Sawyer as Professor Lyall

Directed by J. Daniel Sawyer
Produced by ArtisticWhispers Productions

Download Subscribe

Anyway, Brian has this to say about the words of your humble narrator:

“The current novel Down from Ten which has been describe as The Shinning meets “Clue” is a great story and the cast is doing an outstanding job. Warning – it is an in-flight podcast so when you catch up with the episodes you will be dealing with “cliffhangers”!

Though it is his other podcast novel I really wanted to mention, The Antithesis Progression: Predestination and Other Games of Chance, first the title is just plain awesome, I am aware that for the sake of “selling” the novel the title will be tweaked to be more approachable, which is only sensible; however, the Lit geek in me states firmly that the title is perfect and should be left alone. Okay, that said the title isn’t the only awesome thing here. The story is fantastic, driven by a cast of characters with powerful agendas that makes this space – spy – political – thriller come to life unlike any other podcast novel I have listened to. Take the time to check it out.

Something to keep in mind both novels are definitely for adults, not kid or office safe content.”

Thank you Brian, for the review. Those of you who don’t read Brian’s blog, it’s worth a gander. Check it out.

In an article on Beliefnet this week, Michael Ruse argues that the “new atheists” are a “bloody disaster.” He argues using a mixture of caricatures, complaints, and criticisms, so before I go into why I think the man is full of organic fertilizer on the broader issues, I will address the salient ones:

[Cut for opinionated rantings that might irritate some readers]

Caricatures:
1) “…the “new atheists” – people who are aggressively pro-science, especially pro-Darwinism, and violently anti-religion of all kinds, especially Christianity but happy to include Islam and the rest.”

Among the “new atheists” he names Dawkins, Dennet, Hitchens, P.Z. Meyers, and Jerry Coyne. Notably absent from this list is the movement’s galvanizing voice, Sam Harris, whose book The End of Faith busted the market wide open for everyone else. Harris is familiar with a number of religions, and in The End of Faith and in his lectures at the Beyond Belief symposiums makes nuanced arguments about the relative merits and demerits of different religions and different flavors of different religions, all while insisting that faith must no longer be socially sacrosanct. He argues that not all false ideas are equally destructive, and it may be that not all religious ideas are equally false, but that it is dishonest, dangerous, and foolhardy to continue to behave as if religious ideas are especially immune from criticism when compared to political, moral, ethical, economic, philosophical, scientific, or artistic ideas. His arguments may have problems – anthropologist Scott Atran has given them an extensive critique – but they do not fit the brush Ruse is painting with in the slightest.

A call to level the intellectual playing field by practicing what Harris calls “conversational intolerance” of religious ideas is the central program of the New Atheists. It’s what Dawkins, Dennet, and Hitchens explicitly advocate, and it’s what Meyers and Coyne deliberately practice. Dawkins frames it as “let’s have an argument.” Dennet frames it as “let’s break the spell that makes religious ideas specially immune from criticism.” Meyers desecrates communion wafers and pulls other provocative stunts to raise discussion and demonstrate that, when it comes to inquiry, nothing is sacred.

The charge that the New Atheists are violently anti-religion is, to put it frankly, a lie. None are in favor of any form of violence towards religion – all advocate argument. Nor is it true that their ire falls especially on Christianity. While Dawkins and Dennet talk about Christianity more than any other religion, neither says that “Christianity is the worst” – quite the contrary. In both cases, being raised in Christian environments, they focus on it simply because they are more familiar with Christian history and theology than they are with, say, Confucianism. On the other hand, Hitchens and Harris are familiar with a variety of western and non-western religions and single out Islam and some of the other more easterly religions out for more severe criticism than they level at Christianity.

Ruse is engaging in well-poisoning on this one. Shame on him.

2) “Francis Collins has been incurring their hatred…since Collins is a devout Christian.”

Ruse is here referring to the controversy over the recent appointment of Francis Collins, former head of the Human Genome Project, as head of the National Institutes of Health, but Ruse’s characterization of the controversy is disingenuous. As the head of the NIH, Collins will have influence in areas where he has a dogmatic ax to grind: embryonic stem cell research. At no time that I’ve seen (granting that the web is a big place and I can’t be everywhere at once) have any of the New Atheists impugned Dr. Collins’ scientific credentials, even when directly attacking some of the less scientific things he’s said in print. Check out Michael Shermer’s blog entry on the topic for a quick, representative summary. The question at issue is not Collin’s credentials, and it’s not Collins’ religion. It’s whether his non-rational dogmatic commitments compromise his ability to do the job of overseeing research budgets, and it’s every bit as legitimate a question as asking whether a Quaker or a Jain is an appropriate pick for Secretary of Defense.

Complaints:
1) Ruse complains that the “new atheists” are terribly mean to him – meaner than they are to the religious folks.

To be perfectly frank, I think Ruse’s complaint that the New Atheists have insulted him in their writings is more than a little childish, and also more than a little hypocritical.
First, as demonstrated by the depths he sinks to in this essay, he’s not above reckless and dishonest ad hominem attacks himself – complaining that someone is mean when you’re dishing it right back and worse is gradeschool behavior.
Second, he doesn’t publicly hold the people in the creationist community he considers friends (Gish, Dembski, Johnson) who are even ruder in print and in public (see Dembski’s nasty little cartoon about the Judge in the Dover case for an example).

It should also go without mentioning that, in the war of ideas, people can and do say very aggressive, hard things while telling the truth as they see it. This is an adult world, and Ruse should have learned at University that science and philosophy are not disciplines for the timid.

That said, let’s put this complaint in context, and consider the charges that the “new atheists” level against the priesthood(s). Religious leaders are, according to Dawkins and Hitchens, “child abusers” for their promotion of the doctrine of hell and of infant circumcision. Hitchens further characterizes the Catholic Church’s youth outreach activities as “No Child’s Behind Left.” They all accuse Imams of fostering an environment that might lead us to nuclear war, and Dispensationalist Christians of breathlessly searching for a silver lining (i.e. The Rapture) in the prospect of Manhattan going up in a mushroom cloud.
Whether these accusations are defensible or not is not at issue here. What is at issue is that Ruse evidently thinks a book review calling his ideas “so nonsensical that only an intellectual could believe them,” a book calling his condescending attitude towards religion “appeasement,” and a blogger labeling him “a clueless gobshite” is worse than being called a pedophile, a child abuser, a genocidal warmonger, and a fanatic.

I must say, his semiotic score-keeping system mystifies me.

2) Ruse complains that the New Atheists are mean to him because he doesn’t think all believers are evil or stupid, and that science and religion do not have to clash.

If Ruse honestly believes this is the source of the invective he’s found himself on the receiving end of, he is sorely mistaken. The book Jerry Coyne reviewed is stunning both in its ambitious scope and, more importantly, in its lack of intellectual rigor. The book in question, Can A Darwinian Be A Christian? might be a worthy subject for a book, but Ruse’s method in the book is blinkered toward both religion and with science. Its methods and hermeneutic are only applicable to a very small minority of Western Liberal Protestants and Catholics – the rest of the religious universe (including well over 80% of the world’s Christian population) is unaddressed by his argument, which tries to show the God-of-the-Gaps as the starting point for making Christianity and evolutionary biology mutually reinforcing.

Contrast this with a religious scientist that the New Atheists do not attack, Ken Miller. A conservative Catholic teaching at Brown University, Miller is the author of Finding Darwin’s God, perhaps the most nuanced and well-argued defense of theistic evolution ever written. In his book and arguments, he refuses to give short shrift to science in order to give comfort and shelter to his doctrines, and does not engage in the normal “God of the Gaps” or “NOMA” nonsense. He is an unapologetically religious man who has the courage of his convictions, both religiously and scientifically, and is very much respected by both his peers and his adversaries for that fact.

Criticisms:
1)“Their treatment of the religious viewpoint it pathetic to the point of non-being.”

Unfortunately, with the exception of singling out Dawkins for being philosophically simplistic (a criticism that is, to my mind, pretty near the mark), Ruse provides nothing to back up this assertion. He certainly doesn’t engage any of the arguments offered up in the New Atheist books, nor does he seem to notice that the “new
atheists” are in dialogue with believers. The notion that the New Atheists are boxing with a straw man is belied by the fact that believers in Islam and Christianity overwhelmingly pay lip service to scriptural inerrancy, prophetic infallibility, and a whole slate of other doctrines that the New Atheists are aggressively attacking.
Judging by his comments about Christianity in other contexts, it seems that Ruse considers as straw manning arguments that do not engage liberal theologians such as Bultmann, Tillich, et. al. These men are eloquent writers, and theologically subtle, but such men hold a position in the borderlands between religion and atheism, being held to their religion by personal spiritual experience but utterly unable to defend with argument a single doctrine, not even the existence of God. They are of interest to the academy, but not of much interest to the average pew-sitter. When it comes to the culture war, they are largely irrelevant.

Dennet, of course, isn’t engaging in this kind of argument anyway. He raises questions about how religion got the way it is, how it might have served an adaptive function, what is it that, if we discover parts of it are false, should we hold on to and learn from?

P.Z. Meyers and Jerry Coyne are interested in scientific education and intellectual rigor in that field, and make precious few forays into arguments against religion except when directly addressing the Intelligent Design crowd.

Harris and Hitchens are the only two left, and both have come under a goodly amount of fire for generating more heat than light. However, Ruse’s notion that they are philosophically naive or religiously uninformed is bogus – that they differ in outlook from him is certain, but disagreement does not idiots make. In The End of Faith, Harris articulates an entire epistemology that dialogues with Kant, Bacon, Descartes, addresses postmodernism, and takes heavy account of Thomas Kuhn and Karl Popper.
Hitchens, on the other hand, is highly conversant with all of the great socialist thinkers, and references many of them directly in his book, as well as A.J. Ayer, C.S. Lewis, Bertrand Russel, and many others that would take too long to list here. There may be places where their arguments are sloppy or just plain wrong, but to dismiss the entire crowd as “poor quality,” “pathetic,” “a disservice to scholarship,” and “knowing nothing” of the subject matter is calumnious.

2) “The new atheists are doing terrible damage to the fight to keep Creationism out of schools.” Ruse develops this further, saying that “if science generally and Darwinism specifically implies that God does not exists, then teaching science generally and Darwinism specifically runs smack up against the First Amendment.” He goes on to say “This is the claim of the new atheists.”

Ruse again proves himself aptly named by gracing his audience with a rhetorical ruse. Taking these items in reverse order, the new atheists do not say that science generally and Darwinism specifically imply that God does not exist. The closest you can come, other than statements of personal conversion moments (such as when Christopher Hitchens relates his childhood revelation that our eyes are adapted to the environment and not vice versa, or Dawkins’ lack of ability to comprehend how someone can believe in a god that would ordain a bloodthirsty process like evolution), is Dennet’s observation in Darwin’s Dangerous Idea that the idea of natural selection acts as a universal acid, dissolving away our common-sense notion that things are designed from the top down rather than the bottom up.

Now, that may imply that the God promulgated by religion is less likely than not, but let’s not confuse weak implication with necessary conclusion.

Secondly, Ruse is manifestly wrong on the question of Constitutional law. Children are exposed to facts in school which contravene their religious heritage all the time. From Galileo onward, the western world has been inundated with facts that strongly imply that some religious doctrine or another is false, from the corruptible heavens to the expanding universe, from the realization that species can go extinct to the discovery of geologic strata, from the atomic theory of matter to the heliocentric solar system expanding universe, from the discovery of female gametes to neurologically embodied mind, from plate tectonics to ancestral genetics to evolutionary theory.
We forget now, because we don’t realize how profoundly these scientific discoveries affected the doctrinal development of different religions – we assume that the religions we have today are as they always were. But that’s not the case. Each one of the above accepted scientific paradigms either threatened to unseat or completely obliterated at least one accepted religious doctrine that was, at the time, considered fundamental to the faith of Christians, Mormons, Muslims, and/or Jews. The Constitution does not protect believers from inconvenient facts in a government-run school, it protects everyone from proselytization by anyone representing the government. Saying “The Grand Canyon was formed by geological forces over millions of years” is not a religious dogma, even though it specifically gives the lie to the Genesis creation and flood accounts and, if the evidence is followed down the geologic column, eventually calls into question the foundations doctrines such as original sin and biblical inerrancy.

This criticism, the ultimate point of Ruse’s entire essay, also turns out to be wrong on both the facts and the logic, and thus the whole of his article amounts to little more than vacuous grandstanding.

For myself, the thing I find most disturbing about Ruse’s little diatribe is the lack of intellectual honesty (the same problem I have with Gould’s NOMA nonsense). The epistemology Ruse espouses in this article is highly unethical, as his strategy (again, like NOMA) is a bait-and-switch con game with believers. Does this sound unfair? How else can you describe someone who says “We must not tell people that Darwinism implies that there is no God, because it endangers science teaching.” [paraphrased]. If Darwinism does imply that God doesn’t exist, then telling religious folk that “only a few cranks think that” is a lie. If Darwinism does not imply that God does not exist, then all that need be done is argue with the people who say that it does. In neither case is it necessary for an honest person to perpetrate a confidence trick upon people whom he’s trying to sway to his side.

In the article, he also conflates two disparate concerns. First, the scientific:
While what people believe about the universe is their own business – I certainly have my own weird handful of notions – if one wants to play in the science classroom one must adhere *at least* to the doctrine of falsifiability. Thus far, all creationist hypotheses have proved false on every testable point. This is true of even the strong version of Intelligent Design, known as irreducible complexity, whose original examples of irreducible complexity (the immune system, the bacterial flagella, etc.) have since been proved reducible, thus falsifying the hypothesis.

Of course, the weak version of ID (“There must be some designer somewhere out there”) doesn’t make a falsifiable claim, which makes it a philosophy without even an hypothesis. It is not even bad science. To quote Wolfgang Pauli, it’s “not even wrong.”

Second among Ruse’s conflated issues is the sociological:
People love their pet beliefs, particularly when it comes to notions about creation or design, which most people erroneously conflate with metaphysical notions of purpose. Fortunately, affection doesn’t give one the right to have their beliefs coddled in a science classroom, nor should it. Science has always, and (so long as it continues to progress) will always be a philosophically and theologically unsettling enterprise – not just for the religious, but for all of society. As our data about the universe changes, our ethics, philosophy, beliefs, laws, and values change in reaction to it. Sometimes it’s subtle – sometimes it’s hugely traumatic. In neither case may one claim an exemption from coping with that fact because it conflicts with something someone taught in a church or read in a holy book.

The argument over the teaching of evolution is one of four major arguments now brewing that effect the whole of the scientific endeavor. The others are neurology, biogenetic research (particularly, but not exclusively, on human embryonic stem cells), and nanotechnology. All three of these fields profoundly threaten a variety of doctrines from a variety of religions in ways at least as profound as evolutionary theory does – and all of them are indispensable in dealing with climate, famine, pollution, disease, and a host of other engineering challenges that either loom on the horizon or are already with us. Ruse’s strategy of accommodationism didn’t work in the last 50 years of the 20th century – it seems that a different set of tactics are needed. Direct confrontation and argument is a more honest and, quite possibly, a much more productive mode of engagement in the culture wars of all sorts than is ingratiation.

In every form it has been hitherto proposed, creationism is either a falsified hypothesis, a con game, or an assertion without
any content. We scientifically literate folk should treat our adversaries in this culture war with the dignity that they’re due as adult human beings and be clear that, in so many words, we’re fairly certain that they’re full of shit. It is both dishonest and insulting to pat them on the head and point at the sandbox in the corner and say “over there we have a little room for your theology, and we promise not to wreck your sandcastles – at least not today.”

Of course, there are different levels of pugilistic engagement – P.Z. is a provocateur, and proud of it. So be it – the world needs people like that, lest we all get so afraid of offending someone else that we lose our willingness to participate in the arena of ideas. A free culture needs its assholes like a pond needs water.

Friends arguing philosophy over beer in a pub have the option to be kind – that’s the kind of forum I participate in at Apologia, and I’m proud to do it. But friends don’t generally take kindly to being treated like children by their peers, and there is a difference between kindness and mealy-mouthed passive aggression; practicing the latter in a friendly conversation might well get you snubbed at the next get-together, because it displays both cowardice and condescension.

However, intellectual pugilists in the arena of ideas do not have the option of sparing the feelings of the other side. It is possible for one side to be completely wrong on a given issue, and in such circumstances, seeking a middle ground is dishonest. So, I say “Hooray” for the new atheists, and wish more people, especially those who think they’re assholes, would actually read them. I’ve known more than a few Christians (including very conservative ones) who find the new atheists refreshingly honest and who can make common cause with them in the matter of intellectual ethics, even as they disagree completely on matters of theology, morality, politics, et.al.

Let us stop honoring opinions as sacred, and instead honor those who are willing to have an argument – regardless of what they believe.
And let’s honor them by informing ourselves and actually engaging the argument, rather than complaining that they don’t like us.

*** Appendix ***

In the comments below, Todd Stark points out a basic dichotomy of approaches to intellectual arguments – how some see them as a fight, while others see them as a conversation. He’s right about this, but his comments point up that I wasn’t clear enough about the basic premise from which I was operating.

I don’t think “argument” equates to “fight” – but then, I also don’t think “adversary” equates with “enemy.” There is a place for the friendly conversation (for example, Apologia). There’s also a place for the boxing match. Both are an argument, defined well by Michael Palin in the Monty Python sketch “An argument is a connected series of statements intended to establish a proposition.” It’s not “the automatic gainsaying of something the other person says,” neither is it abuse. In such a sense, both are conversation, fraught with all the normal difficulties you point up in conversations.

In other words, The fact that open societies exist shows that people can be pragmatic about their irreconcilable differences. Argument separates the substance of the opinion from the person holding it for the purposes of understanding – you may think I’m batshit crazy for thinking it’s worthwhile to have humans living on mars, and I might think you’re batshit crazy for reading a horoscope, but I know from arguing about those things with you that you’re ethical in the way that you think, so we can still have a business relationship, or a friendship.

I think the whole reason to have an argument is to ferret out the substantive differences from the semantic ones, whether that argument is friendly or adversarial, the basic structure remains: I’ll stack my facts and logic up, you stack up yours, and we’ll critique each other.

Some particularly colorful arguments, particularly those between public intellectuals like Ruse and Meyers (or William Dembski and anybody, or Christopher Hitchens and anybody), can contain abuse, but if abuse is the entire argument, then there’s nothing to see. My objection to Ruse’s paper is that it consists of very few facts (almost all of them wrong), with the balance spent abusing his opponents while complaining that they abuse him. He has jumped into the boxing ring and is complaining that he’s getting hit, which seems, to me, childish.

Thanks for the comment and the constructive criticism, Todd!

—Also check out the responses to Ruse by two of his targets. Jerry Coyne’s reaction is here. P.Z. Meyers’ reaction is here.

Predestination is a parsec finalist. Officially we’re up for “Best New Speculative Fiction Podcaster/Team,” and, while it’s only *one* of the nominations I was hoping for, if i had to pick only one this would probably be it. Why’s that? Well, this one has the advantage of being a shared award. I don’t know how many physical awards they give out, but if they give out multiples one is definitely going to Danny Schade, whose music made the world complete.

Thank you — all of you — for a hell of a first year doing this. Next year is, I hope, going to be even more exciting — I’ve gots me some plans!

First, the appearances. You can find me on recent episodes of Podioracket, The Dead Robots Society, and doing voice work as the German Army in Philippa Ballantine’s Weather Child. You can also hear my fantasy story Buried Alive In The Blues, for which I also did some of the voice work, on the excellent (if racy) anthology series Erotica A La Carte.

For those of you who enjoy my Open Source madness will be pleased to hear that there are new LinuxJournal articles – one is a review of the Indamixx portable recording studio, and the other, which hasn’t yet published, is a review of OpenGear’s new KVM management console. I’m currently stalking a couple more regular writing gigs, so if the internet gods smile upon me, you may be seeing quite a lot more out of me in this vein in the coming months.

Podcast monkeys, you may have noticed the new buttons on the right side of the page – each podcast feed now has an iTunes one-click subscription link, as well as the normal RSS buttons. There’s also now an Uberfeed, which will give you everything I podcast (except Apologia, which you can get here).

You also may have noticed that I’m now podcasting my new novel Down From Ten. This is a comedic country house mystery with elements of romance, horror, and science fiction around the edges – it’s a change of gears from The Antithesis Progression. It’s also listed on iTunes now, so if you’re listening and enjoying it, please leave a review and tell your friends.

I’m also the subject of, and participant in dialog to, a blog series about the doctrinal foundations of Christianity by Scott Roche on the Spiritual Tramp blog. If you like my arguments on Apologia, you’ll definitely find this one entertaining.

I’ve also recorded MORE Reprobates Hour episodes, which, along with all the other special features I have on my hard drive, I’ll hopefully start spooling out here again this month.

As far as writing projects go, Free Will is picking up steam and is now officially on schedule for a November release. I’m also working on a couple more secret projects, which hopefully I’ll have news about soon here.

Finally, I hope to have some good news on sales in the next couple weeks, so watch this space!

For Predestination, I’ve been nominated for:
Best Speculative Fiction Story (Novel Form)
Best Audio Drama (Long Form including Independents)
Best New Speculative Fiction Podcaster/Team

And for Sculpting God, I’ve been nominated for:
Best Speculative Fiction Story (Short Form)
Best Audio Drama (Short Form including Independents)
Best Speculative Fiction Magazine or Anthology Podcast

There’s obviously a lot of genre bending that I’m doing between fiction/drama, so that may work against me. Who knows? The only down side of this is that I have to send in samples, which is one more thing on my overlong to-do list. Even so…

Being nominated for the Parsecs f*cking rocks! Thanks guys, you are all fabulous!
-Dan

In other news, I’ve engaged the services of Gabrielle Harbowy for editing Down From Ten, in order to whip it into shape for the podcast.

I’ll be blogging the con as I go, though depending on wi-fi access I might not be able to post the blogs till next week. Hope you all have an excellent Memorial Day, regardless of whether your weekend brings you Balticon, BayCon, or barbecues.

New Reprobates — and remastered Predestination episodes – will post next week.

Which is what this post is about. Christiana Ellis’ hysterical send up of epic fantasy, Nina Kimberley the Merciless is now available on Amazon.com. I *LOVE* this book — very clever, loads of fun, and written with a genuine literacy that’s very refreshing in any kind of Fantasy, let alone comedic fantasy. Download the ebook here to read on your computer or portable reader, subscribe to the podcast here, and support the author’s print debut by heading over to Amazon and buying today.

It’s been a long time! Before my life was swallowed by the podcast of my novel Predestination and Other Games of Chance, I recorded quite a bit for Reprobates Hour. So now, to kick off part 2 of Season 3, Richard Carrier returns to talk about science in the ancient world. We discuss the works and missteps of Rodney Stark and his theory of the scientific revolution, we talk about the amazing and usually forgotten scientific and technological discoveries and innovations in the ancient world, and have a lot of fun along the way. In this first of three episodes, we talk about science in the Greek world. Next week, we talk about the Roman world. Hope you enjoy!

The Reprobates are back in town — spread the word!

Check out the details here. Come out with me and celebrate the successful completion of the Predestination podcast, and also the launch of Seth Harwood’s Jack Wakes Up! ]]> http://jdsawyer.net/2009/05/06/predestination-wrap-party-pub-crawl/feed/ 0 http://jdsawyer.net/2009/05/05/bonus-content-jack-wakes-up-pdf/ http://jdsawyer.net/2009/05/05/bonus-content-jack-wakes-up-pdf/#comments Tue, 05 May 2009 08:52:14 +0000 jdsawyer http://jdsawyer.net/?p=469 My friend Seth Harwood has his mainstream debut with his book Jack Wakes Up today, coming out from an imprint of Crown, the same publisher that picked up Scott Sigler. Some of you may not know his book, a modern-day noir thriller that is equal parts James M. Caine and Scott Turow, so I thought I’d introduce you with this PDF preview of the first three chapters of Jack Wakes Up.

Download it, read it, and then go to your local bookstore and buy a copy. It’s a fun read, and there’s enough in there to tickle your lit geek bones till you turn the final page. If you’re not convinced about it, check out my review of the book.

If you enjoy world religions, are wondering where science fiction can go from here, or are curious about transhumanism or The Singularity, you’ll find something to entertain you and possibly get your dander up here.

Enjoy!

The first book in the series, Predestination, deals with rigged poker games. Do you play? What did you learn from personal experiences that played a key role in creating scenarios in your book?

I’m actually pretty rusty, but at the time I wrote the first draft I played a lot, and had been playing for years. I got started when I was about ten, when an uncle of mine who was a low-level diplomat explained the nature of his job to me by saying “If you know how to play poker, and you know how to play chess, then you have the basic skills it takes to do diplomacy.” I was the kind of kid that viewed that sort of statement as a challenge, so within about two months I had a regular poker game going in my garage with my siblings and other neighborhood kids – we played for M&Ms or other types of kid-gold because we weren’t allowed to play for money. I kept on playing right through college on a daily-to-monthly basis, but since college it’s been hard to find people willing to play for stakes I can afford.

Read the rest here!

Cold Duty: Selected Readings from the Diary of a Gelusian Repairman is the tale of a stable boy who gets caught working on a steam engine, which lights off an adventure in the big city and a 100-years too early scientific and technological revolution. Steampunk memoir – and a tale very close to my heart. If you haven’t heard it yet, I hope you’ll give it a listen.

Jacqueline Novogratz discusses markets and foreign aid and underclass empowerment in Africa. Worth every second.

I will be on the following panels:

Engines of Empire: Real Science and Gadgets of Victorian Times – Saturday 1:30-2:30

and

Steampunk Multi-Media: Steamy film, photo, audio and more – Saturday 3-4

Come along, join the party – it promises to be a hell of a debut con!

To start with, on Saturday night, I joined Chris Lester and Seth Harwood at a delightful pub in Berkeley, CA called Jupiter. Between my fans, Seth’s fans, and Chris’ fans, we had about a dozen fans show up and the conversations went long, long, long into the night. Servicable food, great drinks, and even better banter – arguing about philosophy, talking future projects, discussing the finer points of history, religion, ethics, mythology, brains, and just about everything else.

After about 11 the bar got way too loud to hear people shouting across the table, so we adjourned across the street to a lovely gelato joint for more gabbing, loitering, and generally diserputable behavior. It was a great time, I met some fabulous people, got some new listeners, and then wound up sneaking into someone’s hot tub to skinny dip at the…oh, right. Sorry – that’s a different story.

Sunday morning came around like a smashing mirror. I’m rather gifted in the sense that I don’t need alcohol to give me a hangover, I get one naturally from the sun. That fusion reactor and I have a rather unsteady relationship, so if it suddenly goes out, you’ll know who finally sunk a Q-ball into the center pocket. Anyhow, I dragged my lazy keester out of bed and stumbled along to Silicon to attend a panel about self-promotion for new authors hosted by an editor who currently has Antithesis on his desk.

After the panel, he pulled me aside and told me that I could expect to hear back from him on the book soon (hooray!), but that irrespective of whether he wanted it I needed to do two things: 1) change the series title, and 2) rewrite the synopsis.

Regarding the title, it seems that “Antithesis” is a word that sends people looking for their dictionary much more often than it makes people think of forces in conflict, rebellions, and contradictions. It also is, for some reason, a good title for an RPG (a fact I found out on my own as I handed out cards for the podcast over the last week – - everyone thought it was a new RPG rather than a novel or a podcast, but not for a thriller. I suspected that the title was a bit cumbersome and would need a change, but I’m stumped as to what to change it to. Current candidates are “The Gods of our Children” and “And We Surveyed…” — if you have an opinion or a suggestion please leave a comment below.

As far as the synopsis, the particular issue is that it sounds too generic. This is my problem with synopses in general – they’re not ad copy, they’re supposed to be a sweeping description of the plot progression. Unfortunately, in a spy novel or any political story, there’s pretty much a formula that you’re tweaking: bad politicians, good politicians, crime lords, spies, someone who’s being framed/chased, someone who knows too much — let’s be honest, it’s all been done before, and done over, for a hundred and fifty years now (or longer, if you start with Hamlet). Like mysteries, what sets a thriller apart is not the trappings of the plot, it’s the richness of the setting, the depth of the characters, the style of execution.

So, knowing this, I got a couple friends who HAVE sold novels before (and thus, presumably, have a handle on how to write a good synopsis) and who read – and enjoyed – Predestination. The result was this very run-of-the-mill synopsis that technically fulfills all the requirements of a synopsis, and yet manages to make Predestination sound like every spy novel, political thriller, and science fiction novel ever written. Obviously, the way we all approached it is wrong. So, my second question for all of you reading, particularly if you’ve sold a novel or worked as an agent or editor: What do you *really* want out of a synopsis, particularly for a charater-driven story? It seems to me that a blow-by-blow plot synopsis (like I delivered) is not well suited to give a feel for the work.

Anyhow, that’s the weekend – a whole lot of great, a little bit of frustration, and some new challenges to chase down. This week, I’m rendering out the final FX shots for my short film Lights Out, which is destined for J.C. Hutchins’ Obsidian project, and hoping I can make the deadline. It’s all in the hands of the CPU gods now!

Playing For Keeps is different. Mighty Mur has delivered The writing is smart, the characters are well drawn and have surprising depth, and she sneaks in the thought-provoking concepts in sophisticated, subtle ways, teasing the moral, ethical, philosophical, and emotional implications of her universe out one thread at a time. It’s the kind of book that is a good, fun read the first time through, and then you find yourself turning it over again in your mind a week or two later, until you decide to go back and read it again to find out what it was that you missed. Something hooked your subconscious, and you don’t know what. Playing on three levels: the superhero story, but delightfully satirized, the human story of social rejects getting revenge, and the philosophical level where the reader is invited to ponder what simple concepts that we encounter ever day – such as ownership and respect – really mean when you dig down into them, Playing for Keeps delivers depth and challenge wrapped up in pink spandex. Funny as hell, witty like Wilde, and filled with cliffhangers from start to finish, this is one book you shouldn’t allow yourself to miss.

Mur’s making her run on Amazon today – - not tomorrow, as I mistakenly said in the latest Antithesis episode — so if you can order today, do so. If you can’t, do order as soon as you’re able. This is one talent that the world deserves to discover, and pushing her out into the limelight with her first novel here is a big step towards that discovery.

Lisa Paul, in the comments, delivered a round bitch-slap to me for missing the obvious possibility that the following faux-pas could be an attempt to emulate the Brooklynite coloquialism “S/he was robbed” and convey their accent. She could be right. However…I like my take on it better . Can anyone confirm whether the author of the MSNBC story is from Brookly?

—original story follows—

Nastia Liukin had a bad day yesterday at the Olympics. Not only did she lose the gold due to a scoring decision, she’s the occasion for MSNBC, one of the more prestigious news sites on the internet, deciding to dump English in favor of LOLCAT-speak.

You heard it here first, guys. According to this page, Nastia Luikin “wuz” robbed. And she wuzn’t just robbed once, she “wuz robbed” twice. Once in paragraph two’s lead sentence, which says “It seems that she wuz robbed,” [sic] and once in paragraph three, which restates the imperative as a teasing question: “Wuz Luikin robbed?”

LOLspeak hits MSNBC

It’s one thing when a blogger does it – people who are on the net all day sometimes reflexively revert to IM shorthand or lolcat-ese. Dumb, but excusable. It’s quite another when a professional news organization (one of the biggest in the world), includes this kind of juvenile idiocy in their news reporting. I guess that an eighth grade reading level isn’t low enough anymore for some press corporations – they’re changing their writing standards to “Eighth grade Instant-Messaging level.”

Now, by the time you read this, somebody over in the editorial department of MSNBC might have gotten a fucking dictionary out or, you know, USED A SPELLCHECKER on their page and caught the review. If not, let’s not tell them, ok? Let’s just spread this meme *everywhere.* Let’s embarrass the hell out of them. Let’s get everyone so hopping mad about it that maybe, just maybe, people will look to see if a journalist, an editor, or a copy editor can spell before they’re hired. Maybe we’ll even get lucky and schools will start requiring (and encouraging) that students demonstrate basic traffic-sign level literacy before promoting them up the academic ladder to be with their friends.

Buy

Digital Magic

and

The Case of the Pitcher’s Pendant

Unfortunately, this isn’t a long-term strategy yet – it was a stopgap publicity stunt to people who registered at tor.com while the site was being overhauled. However, just for the hell of it, they’re releasing all of the previously members-only titles to the public, for free.

For a limited time, they are giving away pdf, Mobi, and html versions of select books, which you can find here. Hopefully the stunt will bering them more than they bargained for, and they’ll begin to adapt their business model to the new economic realities first articulated by Cory Doctorow, and then demonstrated by Doctorow, Scott Sigler, Tee Morris, J.C. Hutchins, Seth Harwood, Mur Lafferty, and all the other talented folks in the rising tide of podcast novelists (the ranks of whom I’m joining shortly with my Antithesis series).

If you buy science fiction, or are interested in the genre, hop over and download some ebooks, as well as some stunningly beautiful cover art, and then follow it up by purchasing one or two books you like. We’ve got to show these guys that this business model really works – in the long run, market activism is the only effective way to fight against the totalitarian lobbying of the entertainment industry.

In Jack Wakes up, Harwood gives us a new twist on the old noir heist formula. Jack Palms, out of work actor, is tapped by a friend to play second fiddle on a giant drug dealer. He needs the money. He needs the distraction. He’s so amazingly bored that when bullets start flying and people start dying, he finds it exhilarating. In this, his first outing, Harwood combines the classic noir sensibilities of James M Cain with the quck-clipped plot movement that children of the nineties have come to expect from Tarantino films. He also gives Jack Wakes up an unusual but indispensable element: A sense of place. Not content to use just the familiar landmarks, Jack moves down in the older, decaying parts of San Francisco and other flavorful parts of the Bay Area.

In short, Jack Wakes Up is an excellent crime noir, and it keeps you on your toes with hundreds of little surprises, such as a trio of Czech gangsters who want nothing more than to tour the USA on Harleys bring a touch of the tragicomic (reminiscent of the gangsters in Ludlum’s “Road to Gandolfo” without descending into farce). Add to that the use of present tense narration (the last time the present tense used this well was in Scott Turow’s “Presumed Innocent”), and you’ve got the recipie for a novel that moves fast, keeps you on your toes, and has some delightful and moving twists that leave you sincerely caring about every one of the characters, from the buffoons to the monsters.

With the superb use of language, the far-above-par-writing, and the hopping story, Harwood’s debut is the start of a promising career. Highly recommended.

Find it on Amazon.com, or in podcast form at Harwood’s home page or Podiobooks.