Dear Stan,
As the only “American in Pfalzgrafenweiler” for more than 30 years, may I offer a comment on Mr. Ludwig's “solar revolution” in Germany?
First, the goal of 12% of all electricity within ten years and 50% by 2050 is only spoken of by the green advocates of solar power. The poor insulation in Germany will make these goals impossible to realize, I suspect, in spite of the assistance by the government, i.e. customers of the electricity producers. I pay US $ 0.33 per kilowatt-hour. The power companies are required by law to pay around US $ 0.75 per kwh to the house roof producers of electricity.
The actual costs from the present nuclear reactors for the power companies is about US $ 0.05 per kwh. As you might imagine, our bills reflect this subsidization.
Fred Bushnell
Germany
Dear Dr. Schmidt,
I find it interesting, even odd, that some of Analog's long-time readers, maybe among the same who have admired such look-uncomfortable-facts-in-the-face stories as Tom Godwin's “The Cold Equations,” would doubt that six-plus-billion people spewing fossil fuel waste into the atmosphere at an ever increasing rate would have an effect on our planet. After all, haven't we been reading about terraforming planets for decades? And in those stories weren't many of the techniques proposed to transform atmospheres, to warm cold planets, much what we have been and are doing to the terra we live on?
I understand and admire skepticism, even indulge in it myself—there's an undeniable ego benefit to standing by the side of the road and marveling at the folly of the herd—and I can also detect and name many of the cross currents in the climate “debate,” but I have been to the southern Andes and Banff and Glacier National Park and seen how the glaciers are, in fact, beating a quick retreat. Despite what the climate change deniers say, despite the very human mistakes climate scientists themselves have been caught making when they confuse the needs of their own egos with the facts, something science fiction-y is happening to our planet. Just because we live on it doesn't mean our earth operates by different rules than does the rest of the universe.
One would hope that Analog readers, more than anyone, would be open to that message.
And now more personally:
Reading (the last 15 years or so mostly just buying and skimming) Analog since I saw my first copy in the Seattle train station in the early ‘60s (the magazine was then transitioning from Astounding), featuring the first installment of Poul Anderson's The High Crusade. What fun it was!
Just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your rational approach to inquiry. Your ability to see the bigger picture, to unravel some of those cross currents I mention above, to present them clearly to Analog readers, and your willingness to do so even when you know some don't want to hear another side to the issue at hand may be the strongest reason I continue to subscribe to Analog after all these years. It's not your fault that my taste for fiction has weakened over time; my taste for reason has not.
Ken Winkes
Dear Stan,
There seems to be a bit of “Barry-bashing” going on in the reader response to Barry B. Longyear's stories. I thought the “Jaggers and Shad” stories were great, and I loved “Turning the Grain.” I'm a sucker for a love story. I also like the fantasy of meeting a bunch of people, most of whom are so very cool and friendly. I remember Rajnar Vajra doing that kind of thing recently, in his story about the group of semi-super-powered law-keepers. Characters by Shane Tourtellotte, who aren't pleasant a lot of the time, are more realistic, and he is a great writer, but I do like the bonhomie.
I liked the humor of the man from more modern times adjusting to a Stone Age culture that doesn't have the notions of privacy that we have developed. Gordon was a little put back when he first confessed that he was thinking for Pela, and she almost immediately yodeled it to the entire village down the hill. Later she climbed a tree, as I recall, and loudly described their wedding night, in detail, to the entire village. “The progress of civilization is, in part, that towards greater privacy.” (Paraphrasing Ayn Rand, as I recall.)
I wonder if a man from today could talk or relate much with ancient man (even after learning the language), given that ancient man's brain might not have been as integrated and self-aware as ours, having read most of The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind, by Julian Jaynes. It might make for an unfulfilling love affair, to be with a woman who is not fully self-aware. On one hand, Jayne's thesis applied to the ancient Greeks, but the same type of development may have been going on everywhere. On the other hand, I don't know if Jaynes’ thesis is solidly established, even though it seems to be extremely cogent.
I liked the story so much that I ordered another copy of the issue for a friend. I recall from Isaac Asimov's autobiography, In Memory Yet Green, that John W. Campbell would simply send a check when a writer had gotten it right, as all the comment that was needed. But when I order an entire issue, a note about which author mainly did it for me probably helps. As the editor of Mad magazine would reply: “Thanks for the cash!"
I hope that you will buy more stories from Longyear, and pay him a higher word-rate.
I agree that Gordon probably mumbled his name while he was “out of it.” It's a bit more realistic that someone has to learn the language, but the hero still had to be made a talented linguist to keep things moving along.
Another author that springs to mind is W.R. Thompson and his various stories, such as those about the “Kya.” He also wrote a number one “cute robot” story back in about 1993 that I lent to a friend. His story about fooling cryogenic space-faring bandits into thinking that the human Solar System was an industrialized area before turning the Sun back on and vaporizing them was also memorable. As I said to that same friend, “There haven't been any W.R. Thompson stories in a while. I should write in and complain."
James Wiebe
Dear Dr. Schmidt,
After years as a fan of science fiction novels, and years of half-hearted attempts to write one of my own, I decided to switch gears early this year and start composing shorter works. This effort plunged me into the world of science fiction short stories, and I am delighted, impressed, and a tiny bit dismayed to find that it is vast and full of incredible variety, to the point where I find it impossible to read everything being published. But in my effort to get my mind around some of what's going on, I subscribed to Analog.
I can't say I knew what to expect. I had read very little short fiction before subscribing—some old Asimov and Bradbury stories, a collection edited by L. Ron Hubbard of new writers from 1998, and a couple stories of what I'm pretty sure was Gardner Dozois’ 16th annual collection. I had also read a few Phillip K. Dick stories. Little did I suspect to be headed to the moons of Neptune with a laid-back prospector and a hyper-intelligent collection of microchips carrying the personality of a smarmy college girl. I enjoyed “Neptune's Treasure.” It surprised and challenged me, although the generally engaging work was occasionally bogged down by Floyd and Brittney's discussions of the various maths of orbits and trajectories.
I was fascinated and left unsettled by the description of the bizarre intrauterine happenings detailed in Dr. Raggio's fact article; the occasional occurrence of fetus in fetu especially challenged my notions of exactly what constitutes viability and, indeed, human life, before birth. Could it be possible that tiny fetuses embedded on fully developed ones could be detected and brought to term with the aid of intrauterine surgery?
I found Richard Lovett's article on making unreality ring true useful, and do plan on spending some time inside an empty swimming pool; and “Shame” was a highly accessible story, which I enjoyed very much. “On Rickety Thistlewaite” got bogged down with the Donovan character's multiple personalities and the sumptuary proceedings, but once it got going I did enjoy seeing Jimmy Barcelona's personality emerge from the court figure of the One Man. The Kooistra piece was quite worthwhile to me because I find myself resembling an Asperger's case from time to time!
And then, “Rejiggering the Thingamajig.” I didn't expect much, given the title, but I wanted to read through the magazine and, with a tackle-the-chore attitude, I began. For the rest of my days, though, I will consider “The teleport terminal had not been built with Tyrannosaurus sapiens in mind” to be one of the best short story opening sentences I wish I had thought of. I fondly refer to it as “the Tyrannosaurus story” in my inner monologue. Next, I found myself wondering if “A War of Stars” was a good title, given the ubiquity of Star Wars paraphernalia today, but I was favorably impressed, and (spoiler alert) saw Baker's final act as a near self-deification. (All clear.)
On “Simple Gifts": I wrote this story! Not exactly, but I did write a 2,000 word short story about humans looking for valuable minerals on an alien planet inhabited by less-advanced sapient beings, mere weeks before getting this issue in the mail! Credit to Maya Kaathryn Bonhoff for both beating me to the punch and having very nice plot elements involving linguistics and anthropology, all within a plausible hard-SF framework. Kicking myself? Not too much.
And as an aspiring author I found Ben Bova's perspective and industry tales valuable, an aid to my understanding of How Stuff Works in the SF publishing world.
"Undocumented Alien” just about said it all about the way our government is mired in incompetence and inertia, although the poet's departures from the rhyme and meter scheme made it a rough read. I told my son about the proverbial gorillas in Stephen R. Balzac's fact article, and catch myself pondering them whenever I do something like stopping at a red light when I think there are no police around.
It was hard for me to get into “Thus Spake the Aliens.” When Stratmann started with a Nietzsche quote, I was immediately reminded of other Nietzsche quotes, like “What if truth is a woman” and “the minority is always right.” Well, what if truth is an ice cream sundae, but only the minority can recognize that fact? I scanned the story and could tell Stratmann had a very valuable point to make, but he and I just have different paradigms for what makes a story work. Roughly the same experience for “The Possession of Paavo Deshin,” although I feel kinship with Kristine Kathryn Rusch, as we were both the kid haunting the library in a small Midwestern town, looking for something extraordinary.
I enjoyed your editorial a lot, and I share your concern that we, as a species, may paint ourselves into a corner, and place the stars off limits. The piece got my metacognitive churn going, which is one reason that, as a new reader, at least, I would save the editorial for later in the work, perhaps about two-thirds of the way through. Just going on intuition, I would also have put at least one of the short stories—I have a personal fondness for “Rejiggering . . .” so why not that one—before the first fact article and Lovett's advice for writers.
On a strictly practical note, I found myself Xeroxing the order coupon for back issues of Asimov's so as not to disturb Mr. Stratmann's aforementioned Nietzsche quote; you never know.
What I think I enjoy most is the community I find here, the discussion, the continuity, the online forum (my handle is PrecinctDelegate) and the chance to share views on life, writing, and just whatever, with the 20,000 and change people who have the gumption to stick with a classic hard-SF mag in the Great Recession. I appreciate the hard work done by you and your staff in producing the magazine and (probably) chopping this monster down to size, if it makes the Brass Tacks cut.
Ben Phenicie