I was not expecting this to be as good as it was:
Seriously, this video nearly brought me to tears… and it’s not even past midnight yet! But I really should get to bed.
I was not expecting this to be as good as it was:
Seriously, this video nearly brought me to tears… and it’s not even past midnight yet! But I really should get to bed.
Another post from my books blog, this one on the first book in the Hornblower series. Check it out!

The Big Time by Fritz Leiber.
The Big Time has a lot of things in it that I normally would like. It’s a time travel story that bucks the popular convention of the butterfly effect—the idea that small changes in the past lead to big changes in the future. Instead, Leiber’s view of time travel is much closer to Connie Willis’s, in that the continuum itself tends to seek a stable equilibrium, negating the effect of small changes. But unlike Willis’s books, the time travelers aren’t just a bunch of cloistered academics looking to be passive observers of history. Instead, there’s a full-on time war between two monolithic factions, each of which has screwed so much with the timeline that they hardly know who they are anymore.
So what’s so bad about it that I feel it didn’t earn my vote? I’ve tried twice to read this book, and I’ve DNFed it both times because I just can’t get over the fact that it’s about a bunch of comfort women—with everything that term implies—servicing the time warriors of their particular faction. In WWII, “comfort women” was a euphemistic term for civilian sex slaves taken captive by the Japanese Imperial Army. That’s basically what’s happening here, except it’s played straight, with no ick factor, or even really an acknowledgment that an ick factor might exist. And that’s what turns me off—not just the ick factor itself, but the way that the author treats it as something normal and blase—progressive, even. After all, every good time soldier needs a “sex therapist.” </sarc>
Usually when older science fiction turns me off, it has something to do with the sexual content. So many scifi writers in the 50s, 60s, and 70s had these almost utopian visions of a free love future, or at least a very optimistic view of the sexual revolution. They never imagined that we might become even more prudish than the Victorians, or that incels would be a thing, or that we’d be facing a loneliness epidemic, a population collapse, and both a war on men and a war on women because, in large part, of how the Boomers tore down all the boundaries around sex and sexuality—which is to say nothing of how so many people can’t even define what a woman is these days.
These scifi writers were supposed to be our visionaries, but they were so totally blinded by their own carnal lusts that they failed to predict the second- and third-order effects of the kind of free love future they were writing about. That’s not exactly the case with The Big Time, but it falls into that same trap, along with most of Fritz Leiber’s work that I’ve read. However, it wasn’t so bad that I’d vote No Award over this book. Rather, it was more of a background element that rubbed me the wrong way, to the point where I just couldn’t finish the book.
If you haven’t checked out my book blog yet, go give it a look! The latest post has more of my thoughts on Zelazny’s excellent Chronicles of Amber series, and short vs. long fantasy in general.
My further thoughts on Roger Zelazny and the Chronicles of Amber. Check it out on my book blog!

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin

The Relentless Moon by Mary Robinette Kowal

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse

Network Effect by Martha Wells
Network Effect was pretty good. In fact, it’s my favorite Murderbot book. There was a little bit of wokery, mostly in the form of the polyamorous relationships of the humans, but that didn’t bother me as much because part of the point of the Murderbot books is that the humans are (for the most part) aggravatingly dumb and slow, so the polyamory kind of blended into the rest of the nonsense that muderbot constantly has to deal with. But I can see how it would bother some readers.
I DNFed all the other books, but I didn’t want to lump Piranesi in with all the others because it just wasn’t my kind of book. All the other ones had woke themes or tropes or other issues that turned me off immensely. I DNFed the first Lady Astronauts book when it turned into a story about the brave little woman that could and her band of misfit minorities fighting back against Captain Patriarchy. The City We Became dropped half a dozen f-bombs in the first chapter, and I think it had a gay rape scene too. Also, I have no love whatsoever for New York City. As for Black Sun and Harrow the Ninth, they both suffer from the trope that I call “death is chic.” At best, it’s an aesthetic that turns me off, and at worst it’s just a cover for outright nihilism and a pro-death, anti-life worldview that undergirds everything that I hate about our current culture.
As a side note, I just want to say that when it comes to book blurbs, Neil Gaiman is one of the best contrarian indicators for my own personal tastes that I’ve found. He may have blurbed a book or two that I actually enjoyed, but for every book or author that I can remember, if he gave them praise, I not only didn’t like it, but actively hated it. He may actually be a better indicator for me than the Hugo Award itself, since I actually enjoyed the book that won this year—but I cannot think of a single book that Neil Gaiman blurbed that I didn’t despise.
I read a lot of writing books, and this was one I really enjoyed. Go check it out on my writing blog!
For God so loved the world that He gave His Only Begotten Son, that whosever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved.
John 3:16-17