An article in today's Publisher's Weekly traces how the economic crisis and all the resulting social instability have led to two opposite but complimentary trends in book sales. On the one hand, there's the more obvious public interest in flights of fancy to happier, less complicated locales, which present clearer heroes and villains than what people get from the murky financial scandals that dominate the headlines. Seale Ballenger of HarperCollins's Eos Imprint explains:

"We are seeing the trend toward escapism across the board in all areas of publishing right now due to the faltering economy. People really want to focus on something other than the nonstop woes of the world. The escapist nature of SF and fantasy gives readers a doorway into a world very different from their own."

As we saw earlier, that mostly takes the form of urban fantasy. More traditional science fiction dominates the reverse trend, which has seen a huge increase in interest for dystopian fiction. Michael Homler, editor at St. Martin's, says:

"As a recession happens, there is a certain segment of the book population that likes to see it somehow mirrored in the entertainment that they buy....Paranormal, horror and especially apocalyptic-themed novels seem to draw a lot of attention. It hits home with some sort of psychological unease people have and also fits into our still-present fears of terrorism."

Though the impact has been on a smaller scale than that of, say, Twilight, the sales of such books have been exceptional relative to normal expectations. The article singles out the post-apocalyptic reprint anthology Wastelands as one such success story, which is heading into its fifth printing. The 30,000 copies already sold may not necessarily sound like much, but for its publisher, the relatively small Night Shade Books, that's far beyond even the wildest expectations. Another one of their big sellers, the zombie anthology The Living Dead, has already sold 45,000 copies in just six months, partially because readers respond to the thought of a zombie apocalypse, which Night Shade editor-in-chief Jeremy Lassen says is really "a secular rapture." I don't know about that, but whatever the underlying motivations, readers are responding to some zombie gore, which can never be a bad thing.

Still, as much as it's tempting to draw a direct connection between social and literary trends, a lot of publishers think the truth is more complicated. The editor-in-chief of Penguin's Ace and Roc imprints, Ginjer Buchanan, says post-apocalyptic and dystopian ficton are more compelling to average readers because they're more instantly relatable than the latest space opera or science fiction offering:

"I'm not sure that the increasing market for apocalypse stories has much to do with the current state of the world....It's science fiction that's accessible to a wider readership. The singularity and nanotechnology can be hard to grasp, but people who have experienced a natural disaster or loss of electricity don't find it so hard to take the leap to thinking about the entire earth flooding, or about electricity not working anywhere."

Even so, it's probably fair to say that recent events have sadly made such scenarios more relatable to more people, and as a result these books now have a larger built-in audience than in the past. But it's not only a question of demand; the supply of potential books has definitely been affected, as publishers are now seeing far more pessimistic submissions:

"We're certainly seeing more submissions of novels with apocalyptic themes-whether it's the general feel of the world in which it's set, or specifically related to an apocalyptic event," says Orbit's [publisher Tim] Holman. "We're also noticing a definite trend toward fantasy that is more bloody, more brutal, and that doesn't end with a magical sword saving the day."

Don't dispair completely, fans of happy endings - the darkness of the setups for these books can also be to make the eventual triumph all the more heroic and inspiring. When the stakes in the real world seem so high and the odds of success so small, it's only natural fiction has to go even further to stay ahead. Also, much as it might be horrible to be stuck in a zombie apocalypse, at least one's goals are pleasingly simple: go kill some zombies. Night Shade's Jeremy Lassen probably puts it best:

"This isn't just about wanting to see people suffering. It's about seeing a protagonist overcome seemingly overwhelming obstacles; in this case, the complete breakdown of the social order. When people are losing their jobs, and banks are failing, and they have no agency or control over their lives, the fantasies of simple problems with simple solutions and of protagonists with agency are very alluring, and apocalypse literature has them in spades."

A final sidebar in the article also explores the current state of race in science fiction. A new boon to the ages-old struggle to improve the diversity of science fiction comes from the current boom market for escapism. Multiple publishers and editors point out the rather obvious fact that people of color are just as interested in escapist fiction as white people, and futuristic or fantastic settings overwhelmingly dominated by white people may not be ideal for that purpose. Verb Noire publisher Mikki Kendall distills the problem to its essence:

"Do we really believe that only white heterosexuals with no physical or mental impairments are worthwhile representations of our future?"

Taken as a whole, there still seems like there's plenty of territory for science fiction to explore, and readers might well be more receptive to the genre than any point in recent history. Although it does seem as though sprawling, morally ambiguous, science-heavy narratives might want to run and hide from the oncoming zombie hordes and dry-humping vampires, at least until the Dow Jones gets back to 9,000.

[Publisher's Weekly]

Here are the crucial ingredients of nerd escapism — if they are ever gathered in one place, the world will IMPLODE:

1) I am the world's smarterest and clevererest. I can instinctively do base-108 fractal calculations in my head — in my sleep — and I know insane amounts about every subject. Like Roger Moore's James Bond, without the wattles. I don't have a piddling badge for mathematical excellence, I have a full-body cybernetic tattoo of scientific AWESOMEness.

2) There are mean girls, who harass me for being so clever, but then they get devolved into lemurs. Yes, like Captain Picard. Oh noes! It's up to me to find a way to restore them to normal, which I do... eventually.

3) I have a supercomputer, which runs on beer. Or wait, better yet, it's a bong, with special computon-laced leaves in it, and it also produces awesome "smart vapors." Supercomputer bong FTW! Oh, and I get eye-glowy levitatey superpowers when I masturbate.

4) The world gets totally screwed and roasted — sorry, world. It's necessary for kazillions of people to die in sentient mudslides (caused by an evil alliance between the Federal Reserve (which dabbled in the forbidden science of particle economics to try and create a more awesome M0) and scaly dung aliens) for everybody to recognize suddenly how special I am — for after the crisis, when the survivors are sporting rags and living in skyboxes, I will be the scrappy genius who keeps the last precious remnants of technology going. With the help of my supercomputer bong.

5) But — and here's where it gets good — those evil scaly aliens come back and kill almost everybody who's left. And it turns out I'm the only one who can stop them, because I'm secretly 2/3 alien on my mom's side. (Yes, my mom had three parents, and one of them was human.) So I have to go into space and become the world's greatest space pilot/engineer/pirate/ninja/cyborg, learning secret techniques with Marcy, my cute lemur "popular girl" sidekick, tagging along. (Okay, I never got around to curing them of being lemurs. What do you want?) I finally stop the whole alien armada by debating with their cyber-necro version of Alexander Hamilton until he explodes. But then instead of going back to Earth, I journey off to the stars, Marcy at my side, to find adventure and learn whether it's really true that I'm actually the heir to the throne of Builder City, a huge dyson sphere built around a whole star system where everything awesome in the galaxy is built.

Oh, so you don't like my nerd-power-trip-escapist fantasy? Well, screw you. I'm not going to save you from cyber-Alexander Hamilton and his money-supply adjusting sludge then.

Actually, because it's just barely possible that other people might have their own ideas, I asked a few people who were smarter than I am to contribute their own versions. I wrote to some cool people and asked, "What would the ultimate nerd escapist power-fantasy movie look like?" And here's what they said:

Jane Espenson, writer, Buffy/Firefly/Battlestar Galactica:

Hmm... Nerd wish-fulfillment *movie* — so it's not real, huh? I can't wish myself into being that groovy Romulan Commander who glommed onto Spock that one time? Hmm.

Well, I think Revenge of the Nerds already did a very good job with this. It wasn't about turning into a non-nerd, it was about celebrating the things nerds do well. So, something like that. Maybe another sequel, updated to address contemporary themes: Revenge of the Nerds Finds Ice on Mars or Revenge of the Nerds — Taking the White House? Actually, wait— nerds already dominate science and public policy. What everyone really wants is love. We need a nerd-meets-girl romance in which the nerd wins *because* he's smarter, more genuine and sweeter. The ultimate nerdy power fantasy is When Nerd Met Sally. Final answer.

Gerard Jones, author, Men Of Tomorrow and Killing Monsters, plus a zillion awesome comics:

For me the ultimate power would be to be able to emit a tachyonic web that could slip through the time barrier, capture precious objects from throughout the time stream, and bring them back to our era. Just imagine how we might enrich our culture and our knowledge of the past. Personally, I'd use it to pick up some the early Tarzan comics I don't have from when Jesse Marsh's art was still good. Especially the ones with the Lex Barker photocovers that go for, like, 30 bucks on eBay.

David Campbell, formerly of Daveslongbox and now of Live From ABC:

The ultimate nerd wish fullfilment movie? The Last Starfighter... but with tits. Instead of Robert Preston's ancient carcass, drop a Hot Alien Chick in there and you've upgraded to serious nerdvana.

Chris Sims with Chris' Invincible Super Blog:

In the Grim And Distant Future™ (because, you know, Bright and Cheery Futures rarely allow for antisocial malcontents to rise to power), humanity has evolved in terrifying ways! The human body is no longer as we know it, instead giving way to men whose forearms and thighs make up 90% of their body mass, trotting along on tiny feet that are often obscured by clouds of dust and pulling ammunition for their comically large handguns out of one of the many, many pouches that adorn their clothing. Women have it even worse, with faces that are unable to express any emotion other than seething lust, spines that feature right angles, and hair that moves of its own free will in defiance to any wind or gravity. The upshot of all this is that the works of comic book "artist" Rob Liefeld will be hailed as visionary works of genius that were unappreciated in his own time, and will be as sought after as the works of Picasso or Rembrandt today, a situation that gives rise to the ultimate—and most unlikely—nerd empowerment fantasy: That box of X-Force #1s you've got in the basement? It's actually going to be worth something.

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