Odd

May. 17th, 2026 01:11 pm
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[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll
In the last week, the volume of incoming spam email has dropped sharply.

Non-Stop by Brian W. Aldiss

May. 17th, 2026 08:56 am
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Believing the Ship is the whole universe is just common sense. So believe the people in it, but they are not the orphans of the sky they believe themselves to be.

Non-Stop by Brian W. Aldiss

And I live by the river

May. 17th, 2026 02:36 am
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[personal profile] sovay
The trees were ghost-green in the water with the hard white shine of the LEDs, but [personal profile] spatch photographed me in the stoplight.



WERS came out with the menacingly catchy drive of the Clash's "London Calling" (1979) while I was running an errand and it felt just a little unnecessarily Ballardian. Nothing else has happened to me particularly, but reading any kind of news feels like choking on the future. I can remember not being this sick, this poor, this pressed, which differentiates me not at all from most of the people I know. The exhaustion feels unreal and the last ten years like a sociological demonstration in the capacity of things always to be worse.

New Cover: I Won’t Back Down

May. 17th, 2026 12:51 am
[syndicated profile] scalziwhatever_feed

Posted by John Scalzi

Because this is a sentiment that is surely timely.

In addition to singing, I’m playing bass on this one. I tried chugging along with the guitar but it sounded just terrible, so the guitars on this one are courtesy of UJAM, and some MIDI programming on my part for the solo.

Also, I wasn’t intentionally trying for a Tom Petty-like drawl, but damn it’s hard to sing a Tom Petty song without one, so here we are. I hope wherever he is in the universe right now, Tom is not rolling his eyes too hard about it.

Enjoy.

— JS

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Posted by John Scalzi

It’s fair to say that Pamela Ribon and I have come up together in the world. Back in the before times, she and I both started blogging when blogs were still called “online journals,” and our first novels came out close to each other. Since then she’s become a force in animation, working on story and screenplays for Moana, Ralph Breaks the Internet and the animated short My Year of Dicks, for which she received an Oscar nomination, which is pretty damn cool, if you ask me. For a quarter of a century now we’ve stayed friends, supported each other, and celebrated our successes.

Pamela went to high school in Texas, which is where she participated in the UIL One Act Play, the largest theatrical competition in the world. Students and their teachers (22,000 of them!) enter a timed theatrical performance judged on acting and tech, watched by an audience of students and parents, three judges, and a 103-page rule book. Pamela turned her filmmaker eye to one year of the competition, following several schools across the state as they fought their way through the ranks— with all the tears and triumphs and, yes, drama, that entails. That’s now become a film, called, sensibly enough, One Act.

The filming of One Act is done, and now comes the post-production phase, where the film is edited, scored and otherwise made ready for festivals and public presentation, in time for the UIL One Act Play’s 100th anniversary. That takes money, and Pamela and her team could use some help with that. This is where we come in: The Scalzi Family Foundation has pledged $5,000 in matching funds to encourage folks to make a (tax deductible!) donation to help One Act get over its own finish line in post-production. Any amount you donate will be matched by the SFF, up to that $5k (although hopefully they will bring in more than that).

We’re supporting One Act not just because Pamela is a filmmaker worth supporting, but because we think this could be an important film. It brings a spotlight to a part of Texas life that isn’t well-known outside of its borders, and shows a part of the life of the state that can be surprising, and challenging, to outsiders. The UIL One Act competition inspires young creative folks, and changes lives, and that’s a story that’s worth telling, and making a really cool film about.

If this sounds like a film that you would like to help support getting into theaters, here’s the link to One Act’s site, which includes information on how to donate. Again, in the US, these are tax-deductible donations, so that’s pretty nifty. Every donation for the first $5k is matched by the Scalzi Family Foundation, so please feel free to spend our money with yours. We want you to, in fact.

(Also, if you feel like being a big-time donor, like in the five-figure range and above, which comes with its own tier of recognition, there’s contact information on the linked page where you can inquire about that. Go on, do it! You know you want to!)

I’m super proud of Pamela for making this film, and for everything she’s done, and happy the Scalzi Family Foundation can help to get this film that much closer to release. I hope you’ll be inspired to come along for this journey as well.

And if you are: Thank you.

— JS

Mary Robinette Gazette: May 2026

May. 16th, 2026 12:00 pm
[syndicated profile] maryrobinettekowal_feed

Posted by Mary Robinette Kowal

Would you like to receive my newsletter in your inbox, along with other goodies? Sign up here.


I want to share my friend with you.

Liza Palmer has been one of the lights in my life since the moment I met her. A brilliant writer who was also deeply empathetic. And smart — God she was smart, but in a way that felt so casually insightful. Like, she would drop this bombshell of wisdom as if that was just what one did on Thursdays. What’s more, she had a gift for making you feel seen.

She passed away on May 5, 2026, from an aggressive cancer.

I want to introduce you to her, and the closest way I know to do that is by sharing a video with you.

Two years ago, I introduced her to a small group of Patreon members with a conversation about her book, Family Reservations. In the conversation she talks about the struggles of writing the book. Part of what I loved about Liza was that she was honest and vulnerable, and this quality is on full display as we talk.

I’m sharing the video because I want Liza to remain in the world. I hope you’ll take the time to watch it.
Mary Robinette Kowal's Book Club
And, while you’re at it, please pick up Family Reservations or anything else she wrote. Like the woman in real life, in prose, Liza will make you laugh and weep and then think and repeat the cycle.

Liza, you are so very missed.

MRK’s Mundane Moments

Here’s a quick snapshot of what I’m…

  • Crafting: Alma sweater (still)
  • Reading: Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki
  • Writing: “Raelynn’s ass hurt from sitting on a conference room chair too long.”
  • Watching: The Forsyte Saga on PBS
  • Enjoying: Hadestown soundtrack

Noteworthy News

Apprehension was mentioned in the New York Times!

In the article titled, “In These Books, You Don’t Have to Be Young to Save the World,” Fonda Lee recommends fantasy and science-fiction novels with older, wiser heroes.

Bonnyjean fits the bill. Here’s a gift link to the article so you can read it, regardless of whether you have a NYT subscription:


Bookish News

Cover of Dead Weight by Hildur Knutsdottir and translated by Mary Robinette Kowal: A decapitated statue head with a blood splatter underneath. "Nothing tests a friendship like blood on your hands." "Eerie, captivating, and oh, so satisfying." -Olivie Blake

The latest from Hildur Knútsdóttir, Dead Weight, is available for preorder and releases from Tor on May 26. I was honored to provide English translation and audiobook narration.

ABOUT THE BOOK:

An Icelandic night may hide secrets and affairs – or even bodies – in this gruesomely cathartic horror thriller from the author of The Night Guest.

Unnur was living a normal, if lonely, life until a black cat showed up at her door.

When she tracks down the cat’s wayward owner, she finds a young woman just as lost and in need of help. Like a gust of cold air in a Reykjavík night, Ásta and her pet slip into Unnur’s life.

It’s unexpected, but welcome. Unnur likes the company, and she begins to rely on Ásta in turn. But like a black cat, trouble has been tailing her new friend, and Unnur is the only one there for Ásta when things take a violent turn.

The two women quickly learn: nothing tests a friendship like blood on your hands.


Upcoming Events

I have several signings, conferences, and other opportunities for connection coming up. I’d love to see you at one (or more!)

  • Every Sunday, 11 AM ET: Make Me Write session for Patreon subscribers at that tier
  • May 25 at 8 PM ET: I’m teaching an Unlocking Session class on the Live-streaming Classes tier of my Patreon. Come with a writing problem that needs unlocking.
  • June 1: Working on a novel? Stuck in the messy middle? A new 90-day middles-focued module begins in my Write Your Novel Patreon tier.
  • June 3-7 in Chicago, IL: Panel discussions at more at the Nebulas
  • June 9 at 8 PM ET: Join me via my Q&A tier on Patreon for an ask me anything-style conversation.
  • July 11-12 in Warsaw, Poland: Featured author at the Bazyliszek Fantasy Festival
  • July 30-August 2 in Indianapolis, IN: Author panelist and instructor at the Gen Con Writers Symposium *
  • September 3-11 in Seattle, OR: I’m an instructor on the final (for now) Writing Excuses Cruise. Join the other hosts of the podcast and me as we sail to Alaska.

* Gen Con registration opens on May 17th at 12:00 PM ET. I’m teaching a workshop called “The Fashion of Worldbuilding,” and you can learn more about it and register here.


Featured Patreon Event

Write Your Novel Workshop: Middles
June – August, 2026

If you have a novel you’ve been meaning to write—or one you’ve started and stalled on—this workshop gives you the structure, accountability, and community to move it forward. Through weekly meetings that combine craft instruction and dedicated writing time, you’ll work alongside fellow novelists tackling the same challenges you are.

The workshop runs in four three-month modules, each focused on a different stage of the novel:

  • Module 1: Beginning (March–May) — Getting started, establishing character and world, hooking readers
  • Module 2: Middles (June–August) — Sustaining momentum, deepening conflict, avoiding the sag
  • Module 3: Ending (September–November) — Completing character arcs, delivering satisfying resolution
  • Module 4: Revision (December–February) — Diagnosing problems, strengthening prose, polishing for submission

As you may notice, June is right around the corner, and that’s when we’re starting the Middles module.

Each module stands alone, so you can join at the stage that matches where you are right now. Have a draft gathering dust? Jump in at Revision. Stuck in the middle? Start there. You can also jump out whenever you want to!

Each month includes:

  • Weekly live video sessions combining craft instruction and writing time
  • Weekly two-hour Make Me Write session (Sundays, typically 11am Eastern) — 90 minutes of writing, then 30 minutes of show-your-work with MRK or a guest writer
  • Office hours with MRK
  • Monthly large-group Q&A
  • Monthly live-streamed craft and career class (typically the last Monday of the month at 8pm Eastern)
  • Access to 70+ hours of pre-recorded Patreon craft and career classes
  • Access to the Lady Astronaut Club community on Discord — the kindest corner of the internet — with your own private channel

This isn’t a guarantee you’ll finish your novel. Everyone writes at a different pace, and that’s fine. What this workshop provides is a proven framework to help you make real, sustainable progress — whether that means completing a full draft and revision, or finally pushing through the beginning that’s had you stuck for months.

Sessions meet Mondays from 3–5pm MT. Sign up for a full year and save 10%. Designed for writers with some storytelling experience who are ready to commit to regular writing practice. All genres welcome.

I offer a 7-day free trial for new Patreon members.


Elsie’s Corner

Elsie in an apartment with buttons on the floor in the foreground

Having buttons doesn’t change Elsie’s personality, but it does change how she prefers to communicate.

Recently, Elsie let me know that she’d like me to get out of bed, please. (If I’m late getting up, I hear about it.)

Buttons have made her delivery a little gentler.

Watch the after and before here.

Want to start your own communication journey with your animal? 

Click this link and use the code “elsiewant” for 12% off FluentPet buttons.

This is an affiliate link and I earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase. This doesn’t increase your cost; it simply helps support my work. And my tiny cat.

Thank you for your ongoing support. To get my monthly newsletter in your inbox, sign up here.

(no subject)

May. 16th, 2026 07:53 am
skygiants: Mae West (model lady)
[personal profile] skygiants
I do think there is a particular charm, a particular interest, in a biographer who is really visibly in love with their subject. Like, you probably wouldn't want it in every biography. But it's nice to know that the author really extremely wants to be there. It gives an enjoyable sort of tension to the reading experience: at what point is the book going to go off-the-rails because the author has spontaneously transmigrated back to 1931 in a doomed attempt to alter the course of history and fix Buster Keaton's Hollywood career with the power of her passion alone? It could happen! It feels like everything has been foreshadowing it!

Obviously Camera Man: Buster Keaton, the Dawn of Cinema, and the Invention of the of the Twentieth Century does not in fact go off the rails in this way, it does actually remain an interesting and readable biography that uses Keaton's life and career as a jumping-off point to explore the times in which he lived. In the book's introduction, Stevens explains that her fascination with Keaton is such that whenever I heard about something that took place between 1895 and 1966, I found myself trying to fit that event or phenomenon into the puzzle of his life and work. (She also uses the introduction to share a poem she wrote about Keaton. It's not bad!) Anyway, this is a pretty fruitful methodology that leads her to down various side paths to explore not just the history of early cinema but other twentieth-century touchstones such as changing child labor laws, vaudeville and minstrel shows, the rise of Alcoholics' Anonymous, and the career of F. Scott Fitzgerald.*

Often these aren't things that directly impacted Keaton -- Keaton never participated in AA, for example; by the time the program started to gain popularity, Keaton had already hit his rock bottom and come out the other side -- but they run along parallel tracks, such that Keaton's life casts a mirror on the phenomenon or vice versa, or there's an interesting alternate pathway to be imagined where they did indeed intersect. Keaton and Chaplin only worked together once, but you can't help but compare/contrast their trajectories; Keaton and Fitzgerald may never even have met at all, but the downward arcs of their careers were both intertwined with MGM executive Irving Thalberg, on whom Fitzgerald based his last novel.

(Also, it can't have helped with Fitzgerald's fascination, says Stevens, that Thalberg was also extraordinarily good-looking, slight-framed and serious-faced, with large, liquid brown eyes and wavy black hair -- an appearance not unlike that of a certain slapstick comedian whose contract his company had just acquired. We DON'T know they met but we DO know that if they did, Fitzgerald would CERTAINLY have thought Keaton was hot!)

It feels, in other words, like exactly what it is -- a book written by a person whose obsession with one individual has led them down a number of other interesting rabbitholes, to fruitful if not entirely cohesive results. If Keaton had been a fictional character, this might have been a 120K fanfic with a number of beautifully researched, oddly specific chapters. Because Keaton is a real person, we got this book. I had a great time!

Dyna oedd ddoe a dyma yw heddiw

May. 15th, 2026 11:11 pm
sovay: (Silver: against blue)
[personal profile] sovay
The sun came out just in time to set and I caught a handful of pictures in its gold flare of light, mostly lilacs and shadows.

Dyna oedd yr awel, hwn yw y corwynt. )

I baked cornbread tonight with dinner, which I may not have done for a year. I had wanted some for weeks. Any time things could get easier, just for the hell of it.

Flowermaxxing Friday

May. 15th, 2026 02:43 pm
[syndicated profile] scalziwhatever_feed

Posted by Athena Scalzi

That’s right y’all, you’re getting another flower picture! I know, I can hardly believe it myself, but spring is just turning out so beautifully here and I just feel so compelled to share the blossoms with you.

Today’s bloom is a peony (I think), from a peony bush along the side of the house:

A large, fully opened, beautiful pink peony flower.

I am thrilled to have another beautiful blooming plant in the yard, especially because it’s pink! It’s actually very close to where the wisteria is, too. Also this one is in the shape of a heart:

A peony blossom that has opened up in a way that it very closely resembles a heart. It pretty much looks just like the pink heart emoji.

That genuinely made me smile so much while I was taking the photo. Like, how cute is that.

I hope y’all are having a great start to your weekend, and that you see many blooms this spring!

-AMS

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[personal profile] james_davis_nicoll


All that stands between Isako and the satisfactory end of her career is one last job. How hard could it possibly be to accomplish one final task?

The Last Contract of Isako by Fonda Lee

Zoi by Jane Mondrup

May. 15th, 2026 12:00 pm
[syndicated profile] strangehorizons_feed

Posted by A. Bristow-Smith

Zoi coverIn the near(ish) future, a series of objects begin entering the solar system. They arrive one at a time, wait, and depart, but they are always, eventually, followed by another. They are a mystery; they are a sign of extra-terrestrial life; and they hold the promise of unlocking interstellar travel, if they can be understood. They are the titular zoi.

An obvious point of comparison is Arthur C. Clarke's classic Rendezvous with Rama (1973): Both novels center on the exploration of mysterious extra-solar entities with potentially massive ramifications for humanity. This, I suspect, is intentional. But Zoi takes this similar premise in a very different direction, and the comparison with Rama serves as much through contrast as by parallel, highlighting Zoi’s altogether more ambiguous understanding of humanity’s place in the universe.

Because the zoi are not massive, monolithic O’Neill cylinders with neat, human-habitable worlds on their inner surfaces. The zoi are living entities, similar—and entirely dissimilar—to giant, space-borne amoebae, replete with “organelles,” “cytosol fluid,” and “transparent membrane[s]” (p. 2). While they don’t respond to machines or conventional human means of communication—the investigation of the first zoi involves “a number of unmanned probes” but the zoi “never react[s] to their presence” (p. 15)—they do respond to humans. The first time an astronaut touches a zoi, the otherwise impenetrable surface “suck[s] inwards, leaving a cavity fit for the size of a human body” (p. 33), and the zoi subsequently repeats this when anyone draws near. When a later astronaut removes her glove inside a zoi and “[comes] into contact with the [interior] fluid,” the “liquid around them [is] punctured by bubbles which [grow] and [merge] into larger pockets of air” (pp. 63-64). These bubbles eventually form rooms filled with breathable atmosphere. In addition to being biological, the zoi demonstrate an active hospitality that makes them both more and less alien than Rama’s empty cylinder.

And, despite the grand implications of the premise, the focus of Zoi is both physically and emotionally intimate. It is the story of Amira, the novel’s narrator, told through two interwoven strands of narrative. In the present, she and three crewmates (Kiah, Evardo, and Linn) are inside a zoi as it departs the solar system. This is by choice, but it is a one-way trip: They have no control over the destination. They have all dedicated their lives to studying the zoi, and this is the final, ultimate dedication. But that doesn’t mean it will be easy. In the past, we learn of Amira’s life-long obsession with the zoi, starting with the arrival of the first when she was just a five-year-old “captivated by the sight of the shining lump between the stars” (p. 12), and growing into an unwavering drive to one day visit and study them, “no matter how long [that path] turned out to be” (p. 35). From the start of the novel, the reader knows she has succeeded, though not without sacrifice. The question of whether Amira knew what she was committing to—and if it was worth it—comes to the fore through this contrast between past and present.

The struggle, both psychological and biological, to adapt to spending the rest of their lives within the zoi affects each crewmate differently. For Amira, the reality is a far cry from the childhood dreams of discovery and friendship that led her to sacrifice so much in pursuit of her work. She reacts with fear and anger towards Kiah, with whom she was once close, due to the other’s “quick and efficient adaptation to the environment” (p. 9), and clings to Linn—eventually literally—whose body struggles to adapt, and whose “immune defense system seems to be especially hostile to the external influence” of the zoi (p. 7). Despite claiming to “have entered this with [her] eyes open” (p. 44), Amira is plainly uncomfortable with the implications of her choice: acceptance and adaptation to the zoi.

The crewmembers learn that while the zoi has altered itself to fit them, they in turn are being altered to fit it, and Amira laments the “blind, childish faith [she] used to have in the zois” (p. 54), and she and the others are gripped by mood swings and sickness, impulses and aversions, “powerful urge[s] to do specific things, and to avoid others” (p. 71). She is left struggling to determine which feelings are true and which false, which desires she must accept and which to fight. (Anyone who has experienced severe anxiety might sympathize.) The consequence is an experience of extreme—and eventually quite literal—self-alienation.

A more conventional narrative might question the zoi’s sinister motives, or focus entirely on the horror of an alien influence eroding our selfhood, autonomy, and bodily integrity. Yet Zoi suggests that the truth is more complicated. After all, if five-year-old Amira is naïve in her easy anthropomorphizing of a friendly zoi, “hurt because we never came up to see it” (p. 10), the adult Amira has gone to the opposite extreme in barely acknowledging the zoi’s status as a living being. She claims that the “zois aren’t sentient in any human sense of the word, but they react to stimuli with something resembling purposeful behavior” (p. 36)—unable to acknowledge even limited potential for agency without weighing it down with qualifiers. Moreover, the team are there to learn how to make the zoi produce human-model technology—“it should be possible to fabricate both components and entirely new devices out of materials synthesized from zoi substances” (pp. 21-22)—and to use it as a means of interstellar travel, for “the fulfilment of a dream […] for all of humanity” (p. 58). Amira arrives aboard as an archetypal explorer, ready to analyze and categorize and make the zoi useful—and she thereby reduces it to an object.

Her approach is very much in line with that of the mid-century sci-fi explorer seen in texts like Rendezvous with Rama. For all its vast scale and mystery, Rama is largely a passive backdrop on which humans act. Though the environment might be dangerous, it has no intent, and its dangers occur on a level directly tangible to human senses: the organic-robotic biots, the weather, the landscape. The great cylinder of Rama raises questions: Who built this, where are they, what are they like? But it fundamentally presupposes the existence of intelligent, tool-using, megastructure-building aliens that operate much like humans, albeit with far more advanced technology—“advanced” here presupposing technological development as a path of linear progress that humans might journey down. The line between explorer and explored is clear. There are active, intelligent beings, and there is the environment around them: a source of raw material to be shaped and used.

Zoi highlights the fundamental problem of positioning ourselves as external to the world we inhabit and privileging the incredibly narrow band of human perception and communication over the vastly larger and smaller scales on which the universe operates. The zoi that Amira inhabits may not speak or think like a human, but from the off it is clear it can distinguish between living beings and their tools, that it is learning about and responding to human biology. Though she knows of the hormone-altering effect, and chooses to stay, Amira is not prepared for the reciprocity this entails. She is horrified when Kiah points out that “air-filled spaces aren’t natural for the zoi” and that “they could be harmful to it in the long run” (p. 44). While assuming the conditions amenable to her are a given, she is deeply discomforted by any suggestion of human accommodation to the zoi’s needs. Again, it is significant that she comes into conflict with Kiah, who adapts easily, but embraces Linn, who struggles on a fundamental, biological level. Moreover, Kiah’s original task, as psychologist, was “studying the zoi from a psychological and communicative perspective” (p. 36), a role acknowledging its capacity for reciprocal exchange. By contrast, Linn’s intended role as the biotech expert was to find ways to use the zoi to produce human technology: the zoi as exploitable object/environment.

Why should it surprise us that a biological entity might communicate on the level of hormonal alterations or cellular interactions, a far more universal language even on our own planet, rather than human speech? Why are human attempts to adapt the zoi to our needs any less or more horrifying than the inverse? Can we really separate ourselves so easily from the biological environments in which we exist, and without which the human body cannot survive? These are the kinds of questions Zoi raises.

It does this while operating on a relatively intimate scale. The zoi are large but not vast, their interior comprising a handful of rooms. Aboard are only four characters, including Amira, and contact with those remaining on Earth is limited—the novel opens on a message from Earth, with which it is no longer possible to have real-time communication. The focus here is on the relationships and tensions between Amira and the others. But even in the sections on Earth, the focus remains constrained. Most of Amira’s life is covered in a small span of text, and the story is largely that of two key relationships. The first is Amira’s friendship with her uncle, Karim, an idealist who encourages her dreams of reaching the zoi. The second is Amira’s relationship with Natan, her lover, partner, and friend—a relationship that, from the very first page, we know Amira ultimately chooses to leave behind, allowing Natan to pursue his dreams of family life and Amira to commit herself entirely to study of the zoi. There are indications of a wider world, then—one with changed sexual/familial norms, social structures, and environmental conditions—but broad worldbuilding isn’t the focus here.

Combined with the sometimes-sparse descriptive prose—see, for example, “I move through the entrance and continue down the passageways, towards the room designed for disposing of bodily waste” (p. 20)—the small setting and cast can lend the novel the air of a stage-play, the centrality of the narrator’s subjective experience notwithstanding. It is always clear what is happening and where, and the writing keeps up the pace, with even exposition whipping by. There is no lingering on visceral detail or, for that matter, linguistic flourish. Though the novel is deeply engaged with concepts from biology, this is not diamond-hard SF with Peter Watts-style hyper-technicality (nor is it half so bleak). The zoi’s impenetrable surface, its rapid adaptation to human needs, and its ability to travel between the stars are all left as simple fact. Concept and character are king.

The novel keeps the pages turning without the need for gun-battles, the mystery of what will happen next pulls the reader along (it only gets weirder), and the character drama is compelling without ever straying into the melodramatic. These are people in an inconceivably stressful situation, but they are also intelligent adults doing their best, and, whatever her flaws, Amira is ultimately sympathetic. Her dread and panic are all too relatable, trapped within an alien being by her own choice and grappling with existential questions as her body and mind change around her, her lifelong dream now revealed a nightmare.

Though biologists and hard SF fans might find it lacks the level of technical detail they’d like, anyone interested in SF that focuses on authentic reactions to encounters with the alien will find Zoi worth a read. It manages a novel take on the age-old premise of first contact. Here is a story of scientific exploration and personal transformation, emphasizing the sometimes-unsettling implications of our biological nature, our interdependence with environments and organisms we all too often fail not consider, and the compromises that even friendly contact with an alien lifeform would entail.


After Action Report #29

May. 15th, 2026 11:00 am
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Posted by Nancy Hartunian

Anne thought that finding a professional to tie her up in exquisite Shibari bondage in her little, small town would be impossible. She was wrong! Hear all about her encounter in the rope top’s studio. Do you have something for us? Fork it over. Write to Q@Savage.Love.

The post After Action Report #29 appeared first on Dan Savage.

New Worlds: The Language of Flowers

May. 15th, 2026 08:06 am
swan_tower: (Default)
[personal profile] swan_tower
Up front, I should say that "the language of flowers" is mostly bogus.

That's not to say there is no symbolism in flowers and other kinds of plants! There absolutely is; in fact, there must be, so long as human culture has a tendency to trot out particular species or colors in particular contexts, and nature has a tendency to make some things bloom or sprout or leaf out at certain times of year. We will build up associations, because that's how our brains work.

Some of those associations will be based on color (whose symbolism was previously covered in Year Nine). Red is commonly linked with passion; therefore the floral-industrial complex has poured untold amounts of money into convincing us that only red roses are acceptable for romantic occasions like Valentine's Day. But come wedding day, you'll often see more white, because of the connection to innocence and virginity.

Other, less visible qualities can give also rise to certain associations. Notably, it's extremely common for hallucinogens to evoke witchcraft and spirits -- an easy linkage to understand! After all, hallucinogens are a great way to make you feel like you're flying or otherwise experiencing magic. And, naturally, quite a few poisonous plants have dark connotations, thanks to their peril and the opportunity they afford for murder.

Or perhaps it's the environment of the flowers. Orchids, which grow naturally in remote forests where people rarely go, are a Chinese emblem of the virtuous man, who ought to cultivate his finer qualities regardless of the approbation of others. Somewhat similarly, the lotus, rising out of muddy water to reveal its clean beauty, represents purity, enlightenment, and escape from the cycle of death and rebirth.

Behavior can play its part, too! Japanese camellias are linked with a variety of qualities like elegance and strength, but you're not supposed to give them to a sick person, e.g. when bringing a bouquet to the hospital. Why? Because that species of camellia drops its entire flower at once, in a single piece, as if it's been decapitated. Not a good omen. (In fact, some cultures feel it's deeply inappropriate to give a bouquet of any kind to someone in the hospital, lest the wilting of the cut flowers symbolically imply the patient will continue to sicken and eventually die.)

Often, however, the symbolism is just . . . there? I'm not sure anybody has a good answer for why, in European culture, lilies are associated with funerals, other than "it's been true for a very long time." And even if we do have a potential answer -- e.g. I've heard it said the soul is returning to a state of innocence, one of the qualities implied by lilies -- that may be a retroactive explanation, rather than one backed up by historical evidence.

But you may have noticed me using phrases like "one of the qualities" or "a variety of qualities." Symbolism is rarely a pure, one-to-one equation . . . and that brings us back to the language of flowers, and why it was probably never quite the thing the internet likes to claim.

The language of flowers is supposedly a form of cryptography, used to send coded messages through bouquets, boutonnières, and so on. If you try to research this, you will find elaborate claims for how it all worked -- but those claims rarely cite primary sources, and they rarely hold water.

Starting with the fact that they frequently contradict each other. Do white carnations represent first love, or disdain? Do purple lilacs signify first love, or death? Any system of communication needs enough consistency for the sender and receiver to have reasonable certainty they're working with the same message. I've seen websites claim this is why it was very important to be sure your recipient had the same dictionary of floriography as you do . . . but if that were true, we'd have a much more significant historical corpus of such dictionaries than we do. And were people really running around asking "Do you have Horton's Glossary of Flowers? No, Murrow's Floral Lexicon -- drat, I don't have that; I'll have to go to the bookseller before I send you your bouquet tomorrow -- just be sure not to use An A to Z of Floriography; I don't want you thinking I'm telling you to die --" It seems unlikely.

Also, as systems of cryptography go, flowers are wildly insecure. Their message is right there, out in the open! If lovers were secretly communicating through bouquets, you can bet that Victorian mothers would have acquired dictionaries posthaste to vet anything their daughters received. Meanwhile, if a gentleman showed up to an event wearing an ambrosia boutonnière to signify that he returns a lady's love, how many ladies there would think that message was meant for them? A bouquet sent as a gift can be targeted to the recipient, but any other display risks being broadcast to too many people. (This is also a major flaw in the supposed language of fans, though at least in that case, the signal is transient and could perhaps be "aimed" via eye contact. In reality, however, the language of fans was a nineteenth-century marketing gambit by fan manufacturers.)

Going back to that ambrosia boutonnière: just where did our gentleman get it? Kate Greenaway's The Language of Flowers -- an 1884 book that seems to be the main primary source of much writing on this topic -- lists hundreds of flowers. Even with hothouses, I'm dubious that anybody would be able to get hold of, say, red balsam on demand, just so they could signal "touch me not." On the receiving end, it assumes a high degree of botanical knowledge: could you tell the difference between marsh mallow, Syrian mallow, and Venetian mallow? Or recognize mesembryanthemum and myrobalan on sight? I know I couldn't.

As usual, though, what's realistic in history need not restrict what can fly in fiction. Thomas West's City of Iron and Ivy takes this idea and runs for the end zone, with flowers grown by magic and carrying equally supernatural effects. That gets around the hothouse problem, and where flowers can do more than just communicate, it would absolutely be worth people's time to learn the differences between various blooms. So despite the cynical objections above, I would love to see more of this in spec fic! I just appreciate it more when there's attention paid to the practicalities, rather than swallowing hook, line, and sinker the accreted pile of internet claims about how all this supposedly worked in the past.

And, of course, nothing stops you from leaning into plant symbolism more broadly, letting go of the idea that it might be for coded communication. In fact, this is a good idea, because as I said at the start, all cultures have associations for many of the plants around them. Leaning into that, even with just a few words about how a yew tree in someone's garden gives it a dark, funerary vibe, adds a tinge of realism and depth.

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(originally posted at Swan Tower: https://is.gd/Gw6tIH)

The Big Idea: Thomas Elrod

May. 14th, 2026 09:56 pm
[syndicated profile] scalziwhatever_feed

Posted by Athena Scalzi

It can be hard to have solid opinions and identities when we live in a world of mixed messages and misinformation. With propaganda running rampant, how can we be sure if reality is really real? Author Thomas Elrod plays with this idea of a false reality in his newest novel, The Franchise. Tune in to his Big Idea to see how one man’s fiction may be another man’s reality.

THOMAS ELROD:

I think we are all a little fatigued by the long-running IP franchises on TV and in movies. Sure, we all had a good time watching Harrison Ford return as Han Solo or were happy to see Captain America wield Thor’s hammer, but lately? Eh? It all feels tired, as long-running franchises often do. Good thing Hollywood has plenty of other films and shows in development and we can look forward to some fresh stories in the coming years…

Okay, so there’s the rub. It certainly feels like not only will our big cultural mega-franchises not be retired, it is as if they can’t be. Too much of the shareholder value of Disney or Warner Brothers or Netflix is wrapped up in these very expensive properties for these very large corporations (always merging together into even larger corporations) to ever stop. They can’t. They have to continue generating revenue and growth.

What happens to culture if it can never stop recycling itself?

My big idea was this. I wanted to imagine a film franchise that just kept on going forever, kept expanding and looking for new ways to juice the IP. I was partially inspired by the failed Star Wars hotel, which tried to create an immersive storytelling experience for guests in Disney World, but which was too expensive and wonky. However, it’s not hard to see how Disney was using that experience to commodify LARPing and cosplay and other fan activities into something they could monetize and turn into content.

So I did the thing Science Fiction writers do and I extrapolated, imagining a Truman Show-esque environment where a film studio sets up a living set of a popular fantasy film franchise and populates it with people who have had their memories changed to believe they are real characters in this world. Plots are put into motion, writers and actors are hired to push the story along, and everything is secretly filmed. It’s pitched to fans as a limited-time experience, where you can sign up to have your memory temporarily altered so you can live in this world you love so much. Surely, nothing will go wrong!

The challenge as a writer is how to sustain this concept for the course of an entire novel and also how to build a real story out of it. This is always the problem with high-concept ideas. It’s one thing to come up with a hook, it’s another to create interesting characters and engage them in the twists and turns of an effective story that doesn’t become repetitive.

For me, the thing I held onto was the larger “What if” that this concept suggests, which isn’t just about intellectual property in Hollywood but about one’s identity in a world of misinformation. We all live in a kind of constructed reality, whether we know it or not, based on our sources of news, social media, entertainment, etc. We all know people who seem to live and exist in a totally different conception of the world than our own, and this is both baffling and frustrating. But we still have agency over our own lives, and if we want to spend our energy on, say, denying the efficacy of vaccines or insisting a fair election was rigged, to what extent does a person need to take responsibility for those opinions and to what extent is it possible (or ethical) to blame their misinformation reality on their beliefs?

This is a thornier question but also one which provided a way into the story, which very early on I knew was going to include many different character POVs, some from people who play a minor role in the actual plot but whose perspective ends up being different or interesting. Since some people in the story know what is really going on, some have partial information or suspect something, and some have their own views on what is happening despite possibly knowing what is “real,” the great gift of interior and perspective that fiction affords was my way to start building characters and story. My book would be about this confluence of perspectives, and what happens when they clash into one another.

Along the way there was lots of opportunity for light satire about Hollywood, deconstruction of modern fantasy storytelling, and a lot else, but being able to marry theme and structure was the key to making sure my Big Idea, my book’s hook, actually worked and remained interesting over 350 pages. It ended up being a blast to write, so I hope that comes across to everyone else and that they have just as good a time reading it.


The Franchise: Amazon|Barnes & Noble|Bookshop|Powell’s

Author Social: Website|Instagram|Bluesky|Threads

Read an excerpt on Reactor.

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