This is a shorter piece, but I really love it. The music really paints a lovely picture of a river as it grows from a small, winding stream into a mighty waterway. I can imagine it passing things like a royal hunt, a village wedding, a stretch of deep forest, some rapids, and finally a bustling city before flowing out to the sea. The composer is also Czech, which is probably why it resonates with me so much. Ahoy!
Category: Uncategorized
How I Would Vote Now: 1966 Hugo Awards (Best Novel)
The Nominees
The Squares of the City by John Brunner
The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein
Dune by Frank Herbert
Skylark DuQuesne by Edward E. Smith
This Immortal by Roger Zelazny
The Actual Results
- Dune by Frank Herbert and This Immortal by Roger Zelazny (tie)
- Skylark DuQuesne by Edward E. Smith
- The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein
- The Squares of the City by John Brunner
How I Would Have Voted
- Dune by Frank Herbert
Explanation
Dune is the most perfect science fiction novel I have ever read. I wouldn’t call it the best—in fact, I would say that Hyperion and Ender’s Game are marginally better—but it is the most perfect, in terms of genre conventions, tropes and archetypes, story structure, etc. It is a magnificent book, but it’s also the kind of book you need to read three or four (or five or six) times to fully appreciate.
My first reading of Dune was when I was still in high school. I almost didn’t get through it, just because the writing was so dense. But I was intrigued by Paul’s prescience and his struggle to avoid the timeline where the jihad happens, so I read it all the way through to the end. But most of the book went over my head.
My second reading was sometime in college. I don’t remember when, exactly—it might have been around the time I read 2001: A Space Odyssey, or when I first discovered Asimov’s Foundation novels. It may have been a year or two after that, when I’d decided to pursue writing as a career and felt like I needed to steep myself more in the science fiction genre. Either way, I enjoyed it much more that time, though still, most of the subtle nuances of the story still went over my head.
I read Dune the third time shortly after I got married, when my wife and I used to read in bed together (this was before we had a crib in our bedroom, which has been the natural state of affairs for most of our marriage now). This time, I finally got all of the stuff that I’d missed, like the politics of the great houses and the galactic empire, the impact of the Butlerian Jihad, the economics of the spice and the importance of the Spacing Guild, and the ecology of Arrakis and how it played into the story. It was amazing. World building on the level of Tolkien, or perhaps even higher. Truly incredible stuff.
Since then, I’ve tried to read most of the other Frank Herbert Dune books, but I gave up midway through Heretics of Dune. Dune Messiah was a really great wrap-up to the story of Dune, though it didn’t feel nearly as epic as the first book. Children of Dune was a fun read, and almost as good as the first one. God Emperor of Dune was a more of a slog, though the ending was fantastic. By this point of the series, I was starting to feel again like everything was going over my head, so that’s probably why it was so difficult.
I do plan to read all of these books eventually, though. And I may even give the Brian Herbert / Kevin J. Anderson books a try, though I’ve heard they’re not nearly as good as the original Frank Herbert books. The next time I attempt the series, I will probably look for some YouTube content to help explain it without giving away too many spoilers. Or maybe I’ll use AI as a reading companion (which would be a super ironic way to use AI, hehe).
So if the 1966 Hugos were held again today, I would definitely vote Dune as the top book. But to be frankly honest, I don’t think I could vote for any of the others, even though some of them are classics in their own right.
Heinlein’s The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress is the other big classic from this year, but I’ve just never been able to get through it. I’ve tried twice, but each time I’ve set it down in disgust, mostly because of all the weird sexual conventions in the future that Heinlein has constructed. There are some things that I really love Heinlein for, and other things about his writing that I simply cannot stand, and I have learned from experience to avoid any of his books where his views on sex are a major part of the story. But maybe I’ll try the audiobook sometime.
I should probably try to reread This Immortal, too. For some reason, the only Zelazny books I have ever managed to read are the Chronicles of Amber books, and I am currently taking a break midway between books 8 and 9 (or is it 7 and 8?) The first half of that series, following Corwin, were fantastic. Really great stuff. The second half, following Merlin, has been… not as great. I’m still enjoying it, but I constantly feel like I’m lost. But back to This Immortal… to be honest, I don’t remember why I DNFed it, but I think it came down to a combination of feeling lost and not really caring about the characters. But I should definitely pick it up and try it again (though it’s becoming a hard book to find).
I tried to read the Skylark series from the beginning, but it was super, super campy and I got bored with it. I can appreciate that it was a formative work during the pulp era of science fiction, and that many of the fans in the generation that started Worldcon and the Hugo Awards were first exposed to science fiction when they read those books as children. The equivalent for me would be the original Star Wars trilogy, and all the classic old Star Wars books by Kevin J. Anderson, Dave Wolverton, and Timothy Zahn. But unless you’re writing a dissertation on the history of science fiction, the Skylark books probably aren’t essential reading.
The Squares of the City is a surprisingly difficult book to find. It’s not at my local library, the library network’s audiobook app, or the BYU Library—which is unusual, because the BYU Library has one of the best science fiction collections in the country (they have all 300 or so of the Hugo nominated books in their collection, except maybe half a dozen). I think the paperback is currently selling for something like $200 on Amazon. But the ebook is available, and relatively cheap, though to be honest I only downloaded the sample. And after reading the first two chapters, that was enough for me to decide to DNF.
There’s nothing terrible about the book, but it just isn’t all that good. It’s about a European (or maybe American?) tourist visiting a fictional South American dictatorship, which is on the verge of a communist revolution. The thing that’s supposed to make the book unique is that Brunner played a game of chess while writing the book, and all of the major plot points are tied to specific chess moves from that game. In that way, it’s a little like Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle, where he used some kind of Chinese divination system to come up with the actual plot.
But we don’t remember The Man in the High Castle for the plot, and apprently, we don’t remember The Squares of the City for anything. My guess is that Brunner got nominated because of his politics, which made him a favorite among the Futurians and all the others in the fandom that were trying to turn science fiction into a vehicle for world communism. So basically, the spiritual predecessors of today’s blue-haired crazies who have completely taken over the Hugo and Nebula awards.
For the Revival To Succeed, Christian Nationalism Must Fail
This may be a hot take for some of you, but I think we are reaching a point where the greatest obstacle to the Christian revival in the United States is the politicization of Christianity, or what many call “Christian Nationalism.”
Jesus Christ taught that His kingdom is not of this world, much to the chagrin of many of his disciples (including Judas Iscariot, who probably betrayed Him in order to force His hand and make Him come out in His power and glory). They were looking for a political messiah, and when He died on the cross, even His most ardent apostles like Peter were totally lost. But He didn’t come to save the world from the Romans, or the Sadducees, (or the Democrats, or the left)… He came to save the world from sin and death.
But that’s not the message you hear if you go to some of these conservative evangelical churches that have draped themselves in the flag. To many of these Christians (a surprising number of whom are less Bible-literate than some atheists), voting the wrong way might as well be a greater sin than Trump’s adultery. This is hypocrisy, plain and simple—and I say that as someone who voted for Trump.
If Christian Nationalism wins, the revival will fail, because its reach will be limited to conservatives. In order for Christian revival to sweep this country, our Christianity needs to become separated from our politics. Salvation doesn’t come from Congress or the White House. Christ never promised that He would save us from the tribulation of this world. Instead, He told us to take cheer, because He had overcome it.
I do believe that God’s hand is moving this country. I believe that it was divine intervention that saved President Trump from the assassin’s bullet back in Butler Pennsylvania. But I’m not so sure that He saved Trump in order to make America great again. I think His plans run much deeper than that.
Will the Republicans lose the midterms? Will the MAGA movement end with Trump’s presidency? Will the economy collapse, or the Iran war turn into a quagmire? Will the left come back to power and do all the terrible things that the conservative right fears? If so, I can see how all of these things will ultimately serve to humble us and turn us to Christ. Indeed, I suspect that a major humbling is becoming increasingly necessary.
Every… Single… Year… (twice!)
Registration for Writers Cantina 2026 is open
I’m really looking forward to Writers Cantina this year! It’s a local SF&F writing convention up near Salt Lake City. For the last couple of years, I’ve been a panelist, and it’s been really fun. But the panels are really just an excuse to get together and meet with other writers, because the thing that makes Writers Cantina unique is that the barcon has basically taken over the convention (kind of like how the dealer’s room has taken over conventions like FanX and Comic Con).
The panels aren’t scheduled yet, but they probably will be in the next month or two. I’ll be lobbying for another AI writing panel, like we’ve had the last couple of years. Looking forward to sharing my insights on that, as well as talking about it with some of the other panelists. Or you can just find me in the cantina if you want to chat.
The most realistic AI worst-case scenario
When it comes to AI, there are a lot of crazy doomsday scenarios floating around out there—just like there are a lot of pie-in-the-sky, utopian visions of an AI-dominated future. But while nobody knows exactly what the future will bring, I think most of these projections are totally wrong. Instead, I think that AI will neither save us nor doom us—but it will completely change us.
With that in mind, I thought I would share this discussion of AI, which is one of the most grounded and realistic discussions of the subject that I’ve heard. It’s also one of the most insightful. We’ve created a technology that we barely understand, but it’s still just a new technology, not a savior or an antichrist. In a hundred years, when our great-grandchildren understand this technology and take it for granted, they will probably laugh at how we thought of it (assuming, of course, that Yudkowsky and Soares are wrong, and we aren’t all exterminated by a superintelligent AI).
February Reading Recap
Books I Finished
How the West Was Won by Louis L’Amour
Establishing Zion by Lawrence C. Walters
Writing Archetypal Character Arcs by K.M. Weiland
The History of Money by David McWilliams
Dismantling America by Thomas Sowell
(Why are you so racist, Amazon? Why is this book excluded from your Amazon Associates program??)
The Little Book of Exoplanets by Joshua Winn
The Quick and the Dead by Louis L’Amour
The 22 Immutable Laws of Marketing by Al Ries & Jack Trout
Treasure Mountain by Louis L’Amour
Charter Schools and Their Enemies by Thomas Sowell
Books I DNFed
- Fateful Hours by Volker Ulrich
- The Path to Singularity by J. Craig Wheeler
- That Book Is Dangerous! by Adam Szetzla
- Story Genius by Lisa Cron
- Every Day I Read by Hwang Bo-Reum
- The Last Book Written By a Human by Jeff Burningham
- Before the Second Coming by Richard Brunson
How I Would Vote Now: 1983 Hugo Awards (Best Novel)
The Nominees
Foundation’s Edge by Isaac Asimov
The Pride of Chanur by C.J. Cherryh
2010: Odyssey Two by Arthur C. Clarke
Friday by Robert A. Heinlein
Courtship Rite by Donald Kingsbury
The Sword of the Lictor by Gene Wolfe
The Actual Results
- Foundation’s Edge by Isaac Asimov
- The Pride of Chanur by C.J. Cherryh
- 2010: Odyssey Two by Arthur C. Clarke
- Friday by Robert A. Heinlein
- Courtship Rite by Donald Kingsbury
- The Sword of the Lictor by Gene Wolfe
How I Would Have Voted
- Foundation’s Edge by Isaac Asimov
Explanation
I haven’t read all of Asimov’s Foundation novels yet, but I’ve loved all of the ones that I’ve read, including Foundation’s Edge. Really fun. Lots of interesting ideas. Classic sci-fi. A must-read for sure.
I’ve written before about my love-hate relationship with Heinlein. The long and short of it is that I’ve learned to avoid any of his books where he explores his free love ideas about sex and women. I’ve really enjoyed his juveniles, and books like Farnham’s Freehold and Starship Troopers. But if it’s got a partially (or fully) unclothed woman on the cover, it’s probably not for me.
Courtship Rite was an easy skip, based on ChatGPT’s preview of the book. Here is what it said:
Courtship Rite by Donald Kingsbury is one of the most morally challenging and controversial works in classic science fiction. The most immediate concern is the sexual content: Kingsbury depicts a harsh, survival-driven society on the planet Geta where sexual practices are ritualized, non-monogamous, and culturally compulsory. Several scenes contain explicit adult sexual behavior—never pornographic in tone, but described in enough detail to be unmistakably explicit. These sexual rites are integral to the worldbuilding and cannot be skipped without losing the thread of the story.
Violence is also central to the novel, particularly the culture’s reliance on cannibalism as both a sacrament and a pragmatic necessity in a resource-scarce ecosystem. Cannibalism is discussed repeatedly and explicitly, sometimes in unsettling biological detail, and ritual combat, ordeal, poisoning, and execution also appear. Although the novel does not dwell on scenes of graphic torture or sadistic harm, the society it portrays practices ritual child sacrifice and cannibalism, and this is presented as a normalized element of Getan culture.
From the book description: Jo Walton remarked that Courtship Rite “is about a distant generation of colonists on a planet with no usable animals. This is the book with everything, where everything includes cannibalism, polyamory, evolution and getting tattoos so your skin will make more interesting leather when you’re dead.”
There are too many good books in the world for me to waste any of my life reading that.
I know a lot of people love Gene Wolfe’s Book of the New Sun series, but I tried the first book and just couldn’t get into it. The fantasy world was just too macabre for me, and the story never hooked me. I’ve also heard that his writing is an acquired taste, so maybe I should give it another chance. But if I were to cast my ballot now, I wouldn’t vote for it.
As for 2010: Odyssey Two and The Pride of Chanur, I DNFed both of those for basically the same reason: I got bored. The story and characters didn’t really hook me, the world building was interesting but not enough to keep me reading, and over time I just lost interest and gave up. They weren’t terrible books, just not particularly interesting or compelling. I might enjoy them in audio, though, so maybe I’ll give that a try.
If that seems a little harsh, I’d like to point out that No Award doesn’t appear anywhere on this ballot. For the Hugo Awards, that’s saying something. In general, the 80s was a pretty good decade for the Hugo Awards, so even though this particular year wasn’t a bullseye for me, I’d still rather read any of these books (even Courtship Rite) over most of the woke crap that gets nominated these days.
Great Classical Writing Music
I’ve been listening to a lot of classical music lately, especially while writing. One of my favorite pieces so far is Scheherezade by Rimski-Korsakov. I especially like this version, for how the conductor and players start shouting like pirates in the buildup toward the end. My kids and I call it the “pirate music” when we’re listening in the car. Good stuff!
A chilling solution to the Fermi Paradox
The Fermi Paradox is a classic problem in both science and science fiction. Put briefly, the paradox is this: if the natural conditions that led to the development of our human civilization are not unique, and it is reasonable to assume that alien civilizations more advanced than our own have developed elsewhere, then why haven’t they tried to contact us? In other words, if we aren’t alone in this universe, than where have all the aliens gone?
A number of possible solutions to this paradox have been proposed. Perhaps the aliens just don’t find us interesting enough to reach out. Perhaps we just don’t have the technology to contact them. Or perhaps there’s some sort of “great filter” that prevents alien civilizations from becoming spacefaring, or from becoming more advanced than our own. For example, perhaps when alien civilizations discover nuclear weapons, they destroy themselves in a spectacularly suicidal war.
All of these are interesting… but they’re also very naive. They assume that if aliens did try to contact us, everyone on Earth would know about it. But is that really the case?
If an alien civilization made contact with our own, who would be the first humans to learn about it, and who would be the last? Or in other words, if aliens made limited contact with a few humans, how likely would those humans be to share that information with the rest of us, and how likely would we believe them?
If aliens did make contact with us, it would almost certainly be limited in scope. To illustrate this, let’s break down their contact strategy based on hostile vs. peaceful intent, and whether or not they want to stay hidden:
| Hostile Intent | Peaceful Intent | |
| Stay Hidden | Infiltration mission: choose human targets selectively | Observation mission: gather data from distance |
| Come Out | Invasion mission: reduce human ability to organize and resist | Diplomatic mission: prioritize contact with human leadership |
In each of these strategies, the aliens gain nothing by doing a massive flyby and showing themselves to all of us at once. Even in the case of an invasion mission, they’d probably only want to do that if 1) they had overwhelming force, and 2) they decided to run some sort of shock-and-awe campaign, like Independence Day. But what exactly would they gain from that? Even if they did have overwhelming force, why would they want to present a clear target when they already have the element of surprise?
Point is, in most of these scenarios, the aliens would either want to limit their activities to the fringes of human society, or to establish contact with the human leadership first. Therefore, the first humans to learn about these aliens are either going to be the kind of people the rest of us can easily dismiss, or our leaders, who have every incentive to keep the knowledge of these aliens hidden, as the disruption it would cause would threaten their own power.
Put simply, the solution to the Fermi Paradox may have less to do with the aliens and more to do with us. After all, if aliens really had made contact with humanity, what makes you think you would know?