The Tongue Trade

In a future so divided you need an interpreter to talk to people outside your profession there is plenty of room for murder. I am pretty proud of this book - a little science-fiction, a little neo-noir, lots of wordy, wordy words.

Watch this space

 This is going to be the best book of the last three and a half years.

My sense of style

Choosing exactly the right art for the right space is all about balance. Color and light. Presence and magnitude. I’m reworking this room, and really trying to be the Nik Wallenda of bathroom décor. Did I nail it? Or nail it perfectly?

Punch a Groundhog Day

Buffalo Bert was wrong. Like malfeasance wrong. He should be disbarred or defrocked or whatever it is we do to the furrier of the meteorologists. He said six more weeks of winter, and today, nine weeks later, I’m looking at snow. Sticky, slopy snow. His dereliction of duty is so severe I want to punch him in that smug little nose.

Though I’m not sure it’s all his fault. This year’s ceremony was held at Flying Bison Brewery. They woke this creature, offered him some beer, and asked him to predict the weather. He’s a groundhog from Buffalo! What’s he going to do, NOT slug down a larger at nine in the morning and tell us what we want to hear?

He’s only 25 pounds. Next year, I hope Paula’s Donuts is the sponsor.

My yard, April 5, 2024. 

En Suite Mystery of Life

This is a current photo from my bathroom. Two people use this bathroom. Two. Do you see anything wrong here? Why is no one talking about this? Toothbrushes breed, people. Left alone, in damp conditions, they multiply like relatives at the reading of a will. If you believe that the Rothschild’s ordered the Illuminati to keep Trump out of office during their great virus test, that’s fine.

But I’ve heard that one. How secret is a conspiracy that I know all about? Out here on Grand Island. No, it’s the conspiracies that we haven’t heard about that are shaping our society.

One of them involves getting extra toothbrushes into your house. YOUR HOUSE. Look for them.

Ah! Sweet mystery of life
At last I've found thee.

Super-Earth Mother, Review

Super-Earth Mother by Guy Immega gives birth to a complete and fascinating world - raising, educating and challenging the reader along the way. The novel is everything a new work of science fiction wants to be when it grows up: Thoughtful.

I was immediately enchanted by an AI story in the first person. The reader gets a clear look at immense intelligence, still limited in its understanding of humans and our nature. The approach is enlightening and sometimes just, plain funny.

As the novel continued, what I found remarkable about Mother is the range of topics and ideas Immega musters in the course of the story. Genetics, Astro physics, linguistics, medicine, computer architecture – it sounds perhaps too much, but it isn’t. He pushes foreword on every subject he needs in order to tell a compelling story. The story is always first, there are no side-trips just to show off some shinny new concept. Nope. We get the opposite, done the hard way. When the story requires interstellar propulsion and navigation, we are treated to the tackle of those issues. When the story leads us to more internal needs, like food, water and company, we examine those issues with fresh insight. The story always leads, which when you step back and look, is kind of amazing.

Immega didn’t set out to write about robots because he knew about robots. He set out to write a story set in a fully imagined future and had to learn about everything a world entails - biology, psychology, chemistry, etc. - along the way. Crazy. And correct. With the story always leading the ideas, the story stays good. This is an enticing, enveloping read, with an organic, realistic pacing and flow. I will be back for more. I hope the gestation of Immega’s next novel is not too terribly long.

Started Teaching

No time for silly blogs. I started teaching - English 202, Writing and Research - and haven't had time for much beyond lesson plans, grading and trying to stay at least 15 seconds ahead of my students. Perhaps I'll catch up at the holidays. Perhaps . . .