Here's a complete list of all the methods we found for jogging your memory from science fiction tales, from the least fantastical to the most. (The end of the list, sadly, includes some items that you're unlikely to be able to find at your local office supply store.)

Use an acronym.

Suppose you've got a beautiful blue time machine that goes by the ungainly name of Time And Relative Dimensions In Space — you can always shorten it down to TARDIS, which is much easier to remember. That's what the Doctor (and his granddaughter Susan) did in Doctor Who.

The same goes for Marvel Comics' super-secret spy organization, the Supreme Headquarters, International Espionage, Law-Enforcement Division (S.H.I.E.L.D.) The only problem with acronyms is, people will change what they stand for when you're not looking — S.H.I.E.L.D. now stands for Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage Logistics Directorate in the comics, or Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division in the movies.

There's also the General Unilateral Neuro-link Dispersive Autonomic Maneuver (GUNDAM), and lots of other examples, here.

Write yourself a post-it note.

This may be the most foolproof method out there. In Star Trek: Voyager, Chakotay falls in love with a member of a species that erases itself from your memory after a while — and also somehow deletes all computer records. To guard his memories of their torrid, torrid love affair, Chakotay writes himself a paper note explaining everything that went on.

Similarly, in Scott Westerfeld's novel Uglies, Tally Youngblood undergoes the surgery to become a Pretty — but first she writes herself a note explaining all the plans she made to reverse the surgery. Because she won't remember them after she's become a Pretty.

In the movie Push, Nick gets someone to erase his memories and the memories of all his friends, so the mind-readers can't follow their plans. But he writes letters for himself and everybody else, to help them remember at the crucial moment — and there are instructions on how long to wait before reopening the letters.

And this technique is also used by Gwen Cooper in Torchwood (with so-so results), Noah Bennet on Heroes and Kurt on Odyssey Five. There's a great list over at TVTropes.

Keep a diary:

This is one step further than just writing a little note to yourself. In Gene Wolfe's novels Soldier in the Mist/Soldier of Arete, the protagonist loses his memory every single day. And he doesn't realize that his ability to converse with gods, ghosts and other mythic figures is unusual. He writes himself a detailed diary, and the first line of it is, "READ THIS EACH MORNING."

Lost's Daniel Faraday keeps a diary too, and seems to use it to remind himself of a lot of stuff he's forgotten as a result of some time-travel experiments that went wrong. Among other things, he doesn't remember writing the stuff about Desmond Hume being his constant.

Make up a song:

That's what Draycos does in Timothy Zahn's novel Dragon And Thief: A Dragonback Adventure. Draycos sees Jack being taken away on a spaceship, and needs to remember the words written on the ship's side — but they're in English, a language Draycos doesn't know. Says Draycos, "Alien symbols are difficult for one unfamiliar with them to memorize. But I am a poet-warrior of the K'da, and so as you were taken aboard the ship, I composed a song." For example, to describe the letter A, his lyric goes, "Two soldiers lean to, with joined hands." Or to describe the letter O, he sings, "Squeezed ring of fire, and what is more/A fire burns within its core." If you have an easier time remembering goofy song lyrics than unfamiliar symbols, this could work for you.

Leave yourself some objects to trigger a memory:

In Paycheck, Ben Affleck sees his own future, but then has his memory erased. So he leaves himself an envelope full of tiny objects, including a nail and an old penny, and a lottery ticket. They mean nothing to him — until he realizes that they're each incredibly useful at just the right moment. And they do help jog his memory, sort of. The Doctor on Doctor Who is constantly tying a knot in his hanky to remind him of things — but then he has to leave another knot in his hanky to help him remember why he made the previous knot.

Make yourself a video:

That's what Arnold Schwarzenegger does in Total Recall — he's forgotten his true identity as an agent of Mars intelligence (or maybe there was never anything to forget?) And now he leaves himself a video to explain everything — except maybe his past sellf isn't quite telling the exact truth.

Rodney McKay also leaves himself a video message in Stargate Atlantis after everybody loses their memories in the episode "Tabula Rasa." He tells himself to find Teyla quickly, or hundreds of people are going to die.

Create a memory key or "memory palace":

This one is a bit more involved. In John Crowley's modern fantasy novels, the Aegypt tetralogy, we meet the real-life philosopher Giordano Bruno, who had created a complex occult memory system, based on assigning graphical images to different pieces of information, allowing you to access them easily later. One such scheme involved concentric circles, and could allow you to set aside tons and tons of information. The Aegypt novels include the adventures of Bruno, who becomes the librarian of the Secret Library of San Domenico, keeping track of the huge collection of heretical texts using his amazing memory powers:

He knew and remembered every book, where it lay in Fra' Benedetto's cases, who had asked for it, and what was in it. In his vast and growing memory palace, the whole heavens in small, all that took up next to no room at all.

Also, in Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show, Tzu creates a "toy cupboard" in his mind, among other techniques for creating an order for random facts:

He learned to memorize longer and longer lists of things by putting them inside a toy cupboard the tutor told him to create in his mind, or by mentally stacking them on top of each other, or putting them inside each other. This was fun for a while, though pretty soon he got sick of having all kinds of meaningless lists memorized. It wasn't funny after a while to have the ball come out of the fish which came out of the tree which came out of the car which came out of the briefcase, but he couldn't get it out of his memory.

The Mentats, or human computers, in Frank Herbert's Dune seem to use a variety of techniques, including memory keys (and sapho juice) to remember tons of information with perfect clarity. There's a Yahoo group where would-be Mentats have posted advice on how to train your mind to be as clear as that of a Mentat — or a Vulcan.

Tattoo yourself:

It works for the guy in Memento.

Take smart drugs:

It's pretty amazing what you can do with smart drugs, but in Woody Allen's story "Think Hard, It'll Come Back To You," a smart drug called Cranial Pops can help you recall any weird bit of information that may have gotten away from anyone, allowing you to be the hit of a party — until they wear off and you crash.

Use hypnosis:

Lots of science-fiction heroes use hypnosis as a memory aid. In Robert Heinlein's Citizen Of The Galaxy, Baslim hypnotizes his foster son Thorby, so he can memorize a coded message to the Space Police, as well as a letter to a space captain to help Thorby get off the planet. When Claire forgets her assault by Ethan on Lost, the castaways use hypnosis to help her remember, and Fox Mulder on X-Files uses hypnosis to remember his sister's abduction by aliens.

More complex spins on the idea of jogging your memory using hypnosis include the hypnotic trigger that sets off River Tam and activates her killing-machine programming in Serenity:

And the images that make Chuck Bartowski suddenly recall bits of spy information stuck in his brain, in Chuck:

Wear video goggles or use image-recognition capability:

In David Brin's Earth, people wear True-Vu lenses that record everything they see, so they can recall stuff later. And in Amitav Ghosh's novel The Calcutta Chromosome, an object recognition computer can wring out all the details about objects you've seen. Science-fiction author Charles Stross suggests soon it'll be cheap and easy to store visual data on everything you've seen all day for a year, raising all sorts of questions about the boundaries between private memory and public records. Already, researchers have developed smart video goggles that will track what you see.

More way out solutions:

You could get a storage system in your head containing all the information you need to safeguard, as in Johnny Mnemonic by William Gibson (and the movie of the same name.) You could burn your own initials into your brain to remind you that you erased your own memory, like Zaphod Beeblebrox in The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. You could use Wonder Woman's magic lasso to restore your memories, if you know where to track her down. You could transfer your memories into someone else, like Data in Star Trek: Nemesis or Spock in Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan. You could record your memories, like the people in Strange Days, or the dolls in Dollhouse. You could use a de-neuralizer to restore your memory, like Agent J in Men In Black II.

Top image: Citizen Of The Galaxy by Phil Golyshko. Additional reporting by Josh C. Snyder and Cyriaque Lamar.

Germain from A Game of Universe by Eric Nylund:

Germain's life isn't that great now - he's an assassin who absorbs the personalities of his victims, until they all start battling for control of his body - but it beats his childhood. He was born on a hellish planet, and then his father killed his mother and whored his brother out to miners. (He was too young to join his brother at the time.) And then he accidentally killed his brother, who was in the middle of trying to rape him. Later, he freaks out over a misunderstanding and kills his mentor by mistake. Oops.

Bean in Ender's Shadow by Orson Scott Card:

Okay, you thought Ender Wiggin had it bad, but what about Bean? He was genetically enhanced to give him mental powers, but the enhancement, via "Anton's Key," means he'll die at age twenty. He gets kidnapped but escapes, and becomes a street urchin on the streets of Rotterdam, where he falls in with a rough gang. And then the muscle they recruit for their gang kills the gang's leader. Bean ends up going to Battle School, where he's sucked into the fight against the Buggers.

Bertran and Nela in Sideshow by Sheri S. Tepper:

Ack! Maria and Lesky are so desperate to have babies, she takes an untested fertility drug... which leaves her with a pair of conjoined twins, who are both intersexed. (Born with ambiguous genitalia.) But Lesky is determined that at least one of his kids will be a boy, because the Virgin Mary told him so. At Lesky's insistence, the doctors give one of the twins a penis and the other one a vagina, meaning that they'll be joined together but opposte sexes. Emeritus surgeons from the medical school get recruited to do the work, on the theory that they'll be long retired or dead by the time anybody gets around to suing. So whenever dad wants to take Bertran fishing or to a sports game, Nela isn't up for it. Not to mention the fuss over which bathroom and locker room to use. Lesky realizes, far too late, that the twins are genetically identical, which means making one a boy and the other a girl was kind of a weird idea. You can read the whole thing here.

Thorby in Citizen Of The Galaxy by Robert Heinlein:

First he's sold into slavery, then he's sold off to a blind beggar who's missing an arm and a leg. But the beggar, Baslim, turns out to be a super-spy, who puts Thorby to work... until Baslim gets captured and kills himself before he can be interrogated. Then Thorby is shipped off to a Free Trade ship, where he has to learn the ropes the hard way.

David Rice in Jumper by Stephen Gould:

His dad beats his mom so hard, she winds up in the hospital and then runs away. Leaving Davy along with his alcoholic dad, who uses him as a punching bag... until he realizes he can teleport. So he goes to New York, where he finds he can't get a job or a place to live, because he has no Social Security number or birth certificate.

Lauren Olamina in Parable Of The Sower by Octavia Butler:

Lauren is one of many young protagonists in post-apocalyptic fiction who have a rough time, what with the scarce resources, the crazy violence and the collapsing society. (There's a whole thriving genre of post-apocalyptic young-adult novels. Plus there's Cormac McCarthy's The Road, of course.) But Lauren has it worse than most, because she has hyper-empathy, allowing her to feel the pain of all the injured and dying people around her. Not to mention, her home gets burned down and her family is killed.

Darth Bane, from Star Wars: Path Of Destruction:

Pity Dessel, the youngster whose dad beats the crap out of him and calls him "bane" as a nickname. He's raised in a poor, harsh mining colony where he's trapped with his mistreating father. He accidentally kills a Republic soldier who accuses him of cheating at cards, so he has to go off and join the Sith training program, which is not much fun at all.

Pretty much everyone in The Children's Hospital by Chris Adrian:

The world is destroyed by a flood, and the only people left alive are the patients, staff, and a few visitors, in a children's hospital. Most of the kids have terrible, painful ailments, which they struggle to live with after the end of everything. Meanwhile, Jemma, a med student, is emotionally scarred by the suicide of her brother, who took care of her and taught her when she was little.

David from Dying Inside by Robert Silverberg:

You might think growing up with telepathic abilities would be totally awesome, but apparently it sucks]. Growing up, David gets stigmatized as a weirdo by the other kids, and his powers get misinterpreted when they manifest. He learns to hide his abilities, but they keep him from having a normal relationship with the other kids, because he can tell what they're thinking.

Mark Vorkosigan from the Miles Vorkosigan novels by Lois McMaster Bujold:

As my friend Stephanie puts it, "Miles has a fairly bad childhood, but his clone twin brother Mark has one of the most abusive childhoods in literature, and then gets kidnapped and tortured by a sadomasochistic clone lord until he splits into four personalities."

Cat in Psion, Catspaw and Dreamfall by Joan Vinge:

As my friend Laurie says, :The protagonist is an orphaned child, half-human, half-Hydran, and telepathic in a society that has persecuted Hydrans and all those with psi abilities." Plus he's a mistreated street punk, who lives in dirt and flees the carrion crews who want to enslave him as "contract labor." Early on, he gives up his last marker for a short-lived beautiful dreamtime, which leaves him gasping and bereft. A typical sentence early on goes: "His drug-heavy body jerked with panic."

So there you go - just read these books, and tell your therapist goodbye!

Additional reporting by Alasdair Wilkins. Thanks also to Twitter pals kittystryker, gerryblog, beckastar, whump, PhilDarnowsky, cecilseaskull, miniver, heatherlyshaw, kiala and LunaticSX, and Facebook pals Tim Chevalier, Tara O'Shea, James Limbach, Kathleen Warnock, Richard Hartzell, Stephanie Lee Jackson, Sam J. Miller and Laurie Beth Brunner. You guys rule!

Last year we broke the news about director Wolfgang Peterson parting ways with the adaptation of Orson Scott Card's film adaptation for Ender's Game. Since then, there's been tons of speculation over whether the future war saga (about genius children working for the military) will goa head. Despite comments from Card in an LA Times interview this week regarding the film, one of the films producers insists that the project is not dead.

After telling the times that:

“[Card] was not interested in a ‘tough-hero action film’ and refuses to condescend to green-screen Hollywood. Card imagines a ‘film where the human relationships are absolutely essential — an honest presentation of the story.’”

It seemed as if all was lost. But we're bringing you news today that Ender's Game the movie, is not over. Producer Lynn Hendee insists that the "project is not dead."

So can we all breathe a giant collective sigh of relief, because I don't want to leave this Earth without seeing zero gravity battle simulator, especially with an awesomely precocious kid leading the troops.

The new novel, Ender In Exile isn't just a sequel to Card's classic novel, according to the author:

Actually, Ender in Exile replaces the final chapter of Ender's Game. The story as it was told in EG was exactly right in its tone and speed. It was denouement, winding down the story and setting up Speaker for the Dead. In fact, it was for that chapter that I rewrote the short story "Ender's Game" in novel form in the first place—so I could show Ender's first personal contact with the hive queen. But that's all that the novel Ender's Game required. Since then, I've grown older and came to feel the need for a new story—the story of the soldiers who survive the war yet could never come home... I finally realized that I wanted to explore Ender's post-war story in far more detail than was possible or appropriate in that last chapter of Ender's Game.

Of course, such rewriting also allows for more spin-off material - In the same interview with Sci Fi Wire, Card talks about the Ender comics, video games and movies that are on the way. Here's hoping that this kind of thing doesn't spread, however; I don't want to see George Lucas decide that Return Of The Jedi should really be three more movies about Vader's redemption.

Card On Ender sequels, film, games [Sci Fi Wire]

The five issue series, Ender's Game: Battle School, is adapted by New X-Men and X-Force writer Chris Yost and artist Pasqual Ferry, is only the first in a line adapting Card's famous novels; it'll be joined in December by the first issue of Ender's Shadow: Battle School by X-Men: Legacy, Lucifer and Hellblazer writer Mike Carey and artist Sebastian Fiumara. Keep watching the site for previews of that series, as well as interviews with Yost and Carey.

Orson Scott Card on Ender's Game: Battle School [Marvel.com]

Amongst the more expected selections - Ursula LeGuin's The Dispossessed, Larry Niven's Ringworld and Frank Herbert's Dune all get shout-outs - Orson Scott Card manages to bring up a name that you probably didn't see coming:

For years, I have told my writing students that the best example of world-building in fiction is James Clavell's "Shogun." When you read this book, the world-creation is so thorough that you think you can speak Japanese. You can't - but it feels as if you can.

L. E. Modesitt, Jr., on the other hand, plays the role of the buzzkill:

I'm not going to be terribly enthusiastic about most world-building that I read, because my non-authorial background is rooted in analyzing the building blocks of societies, especially from environmental, political, economic, historic, and technical points of view. In this regard, few authors deal well with economics, fewer still with environmental or technical/engineering issues, and almost none with any sort of politics except copying feudalism, corrupted democratic systems, or monarchies.
That doesn't even take into account trade, climate, social history, disease, and a few dozen other items.

In the end, most so-called world building is the verbal equivalent of "Houdini-ism," where the reader tends to think more is there than is because of the distractions of a few well-placed details and props... and, for most readers, that's exactly what they want.

For those who like to see (extremely) minor controversy, you should also check out the comments section where a fan complains about the lack of non-white-male writers on the list and is promptly told to shoot themselves by Jeffrey Ford.

What are the Best Examples of SF/F Worldbuilding? [SF Signal]

Card is very happy with Marvel's version of the story... which is good, because that version will be the basis of every other medium's adaptation in the future:

I've been waiting a long time to see it come alive visually, and now I'm getting to see it getting done - better than anything that they'd come up with for the [long-delayed] movie - as a comic... Whatever Marvel [and artist Pasqual Ferry] does is how it's going to look in the movie and how it's going to look in the game... We're getting great material.

But beyond the visuals, what will the book read like?

When [comic scriptwriter] Chris Yost started writing the script, it was too faithful to the material. I begged them, please, no narration at all. Ever. I want no narration. I want it all in scenes, please, do what comics do. What he came back with was so powerful that it made me feel like I was reading the story for the first time. It came totally alive.

The Ender's Game series launches in October.

Having looked through a few thousand opening sentences at the bookstore and online - no exaggeration - I can generalize a bit. There are a lot of opening sentences that announce the start of a rollicking yarn, with an action sentence. Like this, from Dan Brown's Angels & Demons: "Physicist Leonardo Vetra smelled burning flesh, and he knew it was his own." Boom! A guy's flesh is burning. It's exciting! A slight variation is the juxtaposition of the mundane activity with the exciting thing that interrupts it, sort of like, "I was hanging some kitchen shelves when the cyber-rhinoceros burst through my floor, tusks exploding with brilliant fire."

And then there are tons of opening sentences that are just quirky, or rambling, letting you know the author is settling in to tell a long, rumbly bulldozer of a story. And honestly, most of the opening sentences I looked at were either very business-like, or not very interesting. Or both.

Here are the ones which actually stuck with me and lodged in my brain a bit:

"'I've watched through his eyes, I've listened through his ears, and I tell you he's the one.'" - Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Starting a story, let alone a novel, with a piece of dialog is a bold choice, and most of the time it's super cheesy. I really like this line, though, because it's so intriguing and it drops in a lot of info. How have they been watching through his eyes? Listening through his ears, and what's "the one"?

"The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel." - William Gibson, Neuromancer. People always cite this as a great opening line, and it's easy to see why. It's such a vivid image.

"They set a slamhound on Turner's trail in New Delhi, slotted it to his pheromones and the color of his hair." - Count Zero by William Gibson. Okay, come on. This is just so fun. It's got the wacky jargon: "slamhound," "slotted," and the idea that it can be tied to random things like hair color and pheromones. And it's crackling with energy!

"The morning after he killed Eugene Shapiro, Andre Deschenes woke early." - Undertow by Elizabeth Bear. This is almost the mundane/exciting juxtaposition, but it's more than that, because the mundane comes after the exciting. And it makes you curious about Andre Deschenes and how he can sleep after killing a guy. And who Eugene Shapiro is. I was reading Undertow a while back, and this sentence sucked me in.

"Monday morning when I answered the door there were twenty-one new real estate agents there, all in horrible polyester gold jackets." - Rudy Rucker, The Hacker And The Ants, Version 2.0. Surreal - transreal, even - and garish and weird. And the fact that there are 21 real estate agents just makes it that much better.

"I lived long enough to see the cure for death; to see the rise of the Bitchun Society, to learn ten languages; to compose three symphonies; to realize my boyhood dream of taking up residence in Disney World; to see the death of the workplace and of work." - Cory Doctorow, Down And Out In The Magic Kingdom. I like a nice brisk opening. Again, the wacky jargon (the "Bitchun Society") and the weird longevity, and then the personal suddenly gives way to the larger picture, with the death of the workplace.

"He woke, and remembered dying." - Ken MacLeod, The Stone Canal. I don't really think I need to explain why this is a great opening. It's spare and intriguing. And no adjectives or adverbs. Yay!

"The manhunt extended across more than one hundred light years and eight centuries." - Vernor Vinge, A Deepness In The Sky. This is pretty close to being your standard brisk, action-packed opening. Except for the huge scope of it, coupled with the precision.

"Two glass panes with dirt between and little tunnels from cell to cell: when I was a kid I had an ant colony." - Samuel R. Delany, The Star Pit. It's almost a poem, and it zooms outwards in a lovely way, from the dirt tunnels to the ant colony. For a moment, you think it could be an alien zoo or something.

"The five small craft passed from shadow, emerging with the suddenness of coins thrown into sunlight." - Scott Westerfeld, The Risen Empire. This one, I was on the fence about. It's a little adjective-heavy, and it has the passive construction at the end. But I really liked the coins thrown into sunlight, it's a lovely image and it's about the last thing that comes to mind when you think about spaceships emerging from somewhere.

"At the end, the bottom, the very worst of it, with the world afire and hell's flamewinged angels calling him by name, Lee Crane blamed himself." - Theodore Sturgeon, Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea. Again, it's got great energy, and even though it has my pet peeve - the random "it" occupying the space where a real world should be - it's got the Blakeian imagery, and then you absolutely have to know why Lee Crane blames himself.

"In the summer of his twelfth year - the summer the stars began to fall from the sky - the boy Isaac discovered that he could tell East from West with his eyes closed." - Axis, Robert Charles Wilson. It's got so much going on, what with the coming-of-age thing and the stars falling. But then you get that human-compass thing, which is intriguing and fascinating. And this is a nice, spare sentence, with no excess clutter. It's snappy!

"Today is the two-hundredth anniversary of the final extinction of my One True Love, as close as I can date it." - Saturn's Children, Charles Stross. It's like the start of a romance novel, except for the mention of 200 years and the word "extinction." They stick out like jagged little spurs, amidst the shmoopy "One True Love" jargon.

Oh, and I came across one opening sentence that stuck in my mind afterwards, but then I couldn't find it again. It was something like, "He did not often think about kidnapping his daughter and stealing the spaceship." But there was more to it than that. What am I thinking of?

When Amazon.com's SF audiobooks imprint Audible Frontiers launched earlier this year, we were interested in the potential of something new to entertain us on our morning commutes. With the line now in its third month, we checked in with Audible's director of content, Steve Feldberg, to see whether it looks like there's a future in this whole "books in your ear" thing.

The Audible Frontiers imprint has been around for a couple of months now. What has the audience reaction been like so far?
We’ve gotten a good deal of positive response, and much of it centers on how Audible has really focused on expanding the number of SF&F books available in audio. In fact, that’s probably our biggest accomplishment so far – just increasing the selection.

Specifically, we’ve enjoyed great reviews for our productions of Jack Campbell’s Lost Fleet series; Robert J. Sawyer’s novels, including the Hugo-winning Hominids (as well as the other books in his Neanderthal Parallax trilogy); Mike Resnick’s Starship series; Hugo-winning novellas by Connie Willis, Harry Turtledove, Joe Haldeman, Allen Steele, as well as Resnick; and sci-fi classics like Roger Zelazny’s This Immortal and Fritz Leiber’s The Big Time.

What was the basis for the creation of the imprint in the first place - Is Audible planning to create sub-stores for each literary genre, or is there something special about SF that demanded its own space (If you'll excuse the pun)?
There were two key factors. We’ve seen consistent growth in SF&F – yet we also heard from customers that they wished the selection were better. So it wasn’t hard to put two and two together and figure out that we needed to improve the breadth and depth of our catalog.

Audible Frontiers is the biggest part of the strategy, but we have two other current initiatives that are highly relevant. First is our long-standing partnership with Harlequin, under which we produce 4-6 titles per month. These have consistently included fantasy titles by Maria V. Snyder, Mercedes Lackey, Jennifer Armintrout, Gena Showalter, and other great authors. Second is our relatively new partnership with HarperCollins to produce some of their great SF&F titles. The first wave includes the Acorna’s Children series by Anne McCaffrey and Elizabeth Ann Scarborough; Star Strike by Ian Douglas; Hunter's Run by George R.R. Martin, Gardner Dozois, and Daniel Abraham; and Matt Ruff’s Bad Monkeys... The only minor distinction is that we don’t brand any of our co-produced titles as “Audible Frontiers”. The key point is that we’re looking at all aspects of SF & Fantasy – contemporary sci-fi, classic sci-fi, epic fantasy, paranormal fantasy, you name it.

How did Orson Scott Card come to be involved with the site?
Scott is, of course, a big best selling author and an icon in the field, and a special favorite among Audible listeners. But what was most important to us is that he’s an avid audiobook fan – and he really gets the value of the audiobook experience. So when we were looking for an author whose opinion would be most valued by Audible SF&F listeners, he was a natural choice. It all turned out to be pretty simple; we reached out, Scott agreed, and we were off to the races. What’s been most gratifying is that Scott takes the time to craft a detailed review of each “Selects” title and record it in audio. That really brings his reviews to life for our listeners.

What's planned for the future of the imprint? More original works? More guest columnists? Any surprises coming up?
We have dozens more titles coming this year under the Audible Frontiers imprint. For me, the most exciting current project is that we’re bringing Fritz Leiber’s entire, classic swords-and-sorcery series featuring Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser to audio for the first time. But even better than that – Neil Gaiman has recorded exclusive introductions to each of the seven books. Gaiman is a huge Leiber fan, which truly comes out in his introductions. The Guest Editor program will continue to be a monthly feature. Robert J. Sawyer is our Editor for July, S.M. Stirling is on board for August, and we’ll go from there!

Past that, over the next few months we’ll be offering great contemporary SF&F like David Drake’s complete RCN/Daniel Leary series; Kay Kenyon’s critically-acclaimed The Entire and the Rose novels; Allen Steele’s Coyote trilogy; Sharon Shinn’s Twelve Houses series, E.E. Knight’s complete Vampire Earth series; and lots more. Plus, we’ll be bringing into audio for the first time classic award winners by Clifford D. Simak (CITY and WAY STATION); Roger Zelazny (LORD OF LIGHT); and John Varley (TITAN, WIZARD, DEMON and more). And we’ve got a few surprises that we can’t quite reveal yet!

Image courtesy Employee Lounge

[Audible Frontiers]

The sprawling saga that loses the thread is a more common problem in fantasy books than in science fiction — think the Robert Jordan's Wheel Of Time, or Marion Zimmer Bradley's Darkover books. But science fiction still has its own never-ending stories that really ought to end. Here are the biggest problems:

Changing the rules: When I first read To Your Scattered Bodies Go by Philip Jose Farmer, I was incredibly excited by its story of an artificial planet where everybody who's ever lived comes back to life. Until I got to the end of the book and realized it was actually Book One in a long series, and none of my nagging questions about the resurrection planet, Riverworld, would be answered for another three or four books. I was even more annoyed when a friend of mine told me that Farmer changes the rules of Riverworld after the first book, to make it easier to keep spinning out tales. I think there my have been some book-throwing involved.

The heir apparent. As I mentioned, a reviewer coined the term "Herbert's Syndrome" in 1984, when Frank Herbert was still alive and had yet to publish his sixth Dune novel, Chapterhouse: Dune. The reviewer defined it as when "a large advance induces a good writer to extend a successful series beyond its natural span." You may have your own opinions about whether six Dune books were too many — but since Herbert's death, his son Frank and his collaborator Kevin J. Anderson have already written seven Dune books, with more on the way. Say it with me: "The cash must flow."

The neat trilogy that becomes a messy tetralogy, and more. The first two Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy books by Douglas Adams seemed pretty well-rounded, encompassing more or less the same arc as the original radio series and TV series. So I was a little nervous about the third book, Life, The Universe And Everything, but it was still a fun ride and seemed to move things forward. I was less thrilled by the fourth volume in what Adams called "the increasingly inaccurately named Hitchhiker's trilogy." So Long And Thanks For All The Fish, felt sort of anemic, as if Adams really didn't have any more ideas for the series, but he needed the Ningis. And then I think I read the fifth volume, but I have no memory of it whatsoever.

The need to explain the meaning of everything. Feminist science fiction blogger Liz Henry says this is where many series break down:

People write a series, and then they feel the need to finish it off and Explain it and they go all mystical and metaphysical. [They] try to solve every giant Burning Issue of Existence and good and evil, and why does the universe exist at all, and [the meaning of] utopia. So often, you get the underlying Manifesto or attempt to come up with a coherent philsopy of the author, but all too often, you sure wish they hadn't. By the time Herbert hits God Emperor of Dune, he has gone compeltely mad, trying to explain Everything, and there is no plot any more.

The random left turn. Isaac Asimov gave into fans' pressure, after a thirty-year gap, and started writing more Foundation novels again. And few would argue that Foundation's Edge or Foundation And Earth are in the same league as the original trilogy. One major problem: a slew of new characters, including one who's introduced right at the end of Foundation And Earth, who might have played a bigger role in a final Foundation book, had Asimov written one. But in the end, it just feels as though Asimov is floundering a bit, in the unnecessary sequels.

The miraculous save. In Suzette Haden Elgin's Native Tongue series, there's a clan of women and children who become language experts, and learn a ton of alien languages so they can serve as translators. But over time, they create their own secret language that the men don't understand. Which is great, but then in the third book, suddenly the women discover that they can eat sounds. They can survive by ingesting noises — sort of like a plant's photosynthesis, except noisier.

The shrinking protagonist. Harry Harrison's Stainless Steel Rat books become less and less fun, as his roguish protagonist, Slippery Jim DiGriz, becomes more and more of a pussycat. But worse yet is when we get a new protagonist whose story cheapens our original hero, like Bean in Orson Scott Card's Ender's Shadow.

To be fair, why shouldn't novels go on and on and on? It's what movies do, with their endless sequels. And TV series — who really thinks Smallville deserves an eighth season? On the other hand, the thing that makes novels superior to other media is the fact that they have a single author, who puts his/her stamp on them. When that one person runs out of ideas, the novels themselves start to deflate.

With TV, movies, comics and other media, as long as the corporate copyright-holder can find another Akiva Goldsman or Roberto Orci to spin out a new idea, you can have endless installments. In theory, no TV series ever needs to go stale, as long as the writers have the grace to leave when they run out of ideas. (Which almost never happens.) It's a bit harder with books though — and I like picking up a novel and discovering a new universe for the first time.

Aiguille Delaz from Gundam 0083. This strategic genius chose to pull out of the battle of A Baou Qu, the last stand of the One Year War. Instead, he massed his forces in a makeshift headquarters in the middle of a debris field, and prepared his masterplan. Operation Stardust involved having a pilot steal an experimental nuclear-armed Gundam warsuit. Delaz shows off the nuclear-armed warsuit, which proves the corruption of the Earth Federation, and then goads the Federation into showing off its strength in a set of space maneuvers that leave it vulnerable to the nuke — which destroys two-thirds of the fleet.

Ender Wiggin, from Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game series. Starting out as a laser-tag champion, he gets more and more badass until he becomes the greatest space strategist in history. He thinks he's just fighting a series of simulated battles, but he's actually giving orders to real Earth ships dispatched decades earlier — and he comes up with the crazy risk-taking strategy that destroys the "Bugger" homeworld and pretty much wipes out their species.

Kara Thrace aka Starbuck — You can talk about what a great leader Adama is, or how good Admiral Cain was at coming up with the craziest, most bat-shit strategies to confuse her enemies. But the craziest person on Battlestar Galactica is also the craftiest — just look at the plan Starbuck comes up with to distract the cylon basestars away from the resurrection ship using decoys. The basestars get distracted, and then Galactica and Pegasus take them on. And then Lee's stealth ship takes out that all-important get-out-of-death-free card for those cylons. Rawk!

John Christian Falkenberg, a CoDominium naval officer turned mercenary created by Jerry Pournelle for the CoDominium future history series. He's sort of a space tactician, even though most of the battles he fights are on the ground on various planets where the colonists are rising up. He's frequently facing superior numbers of better-armed insurgents, and has to use a mixture of blitzkrieg tactics and fighting dirty to pull out a victory.

Grand Admiral Thrawn from the Star Wars novels. The blue-skinned red-eyed Imperial Thrawn was already a chessmaster of space battle when the Empire fell in Return Of The Jedi. But after the Empire had collapsed in a rain of Ewok claws, Thrawn rebuilt a small fleet around his Imperial Star Destroyer and set about trying to retake the galaxy. He found a supply of clone troopers, recruited a rogue Jedi, and managed to control half the galaxy. He tricked the Jedi scum into thinking Coruscant was blockaded by totally imaginary space mines, and managed to assemble a formidable fleet out of almost nothing. His only downfall came from understimating the bun-clad head of Princess Leia. Also from Star Wars, there's Admiral Ackbar, who can recognize a trap when he sees one.

Captain Benjamin Sisko from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Trek is full of great tacticians, including a never-ending parade of admirals who only exist on video screens. But Sisko gets his hands dirty — sometimes literally — in planning all the big battles against the Dominion. His finest moment was probably planning Operation Return, the huge assault by 624 starships to retake Deep Space Nine. He had to convince one of those stuffed-shirt admirals that DS9 was a higher strategic priority than defending Earth, because DS9 controlled the wormhole, the key to the quandrant. Faced with a solid wall of Dominion and Cardassian ships, Sisko had to play a game of wits with Cardassian leader Gul Dukat, trying to trick the Cardassians into opening a hole in their lines. Dukat saw through Sisko's strategy and tried to set a counter-trap, but Sisko managed to use Dukat's trap to push through. Here's the fleet Sisko was commanding:

Donal Graeme from the Childe Cycle of novels by Gordon R. Dickson. He's an "intuitive superman" with a superb grasp of battle tactics. He's also a master of deception (notice a theme here?). In one campaign, he tricks the enemy into landing on a planet to engage a massive ground force — only to find that the ground force is an illusion. They're trapped on the planet, with Donal's forces threatening to bomb them from orbit unless they surrender.

Captain John Sheridan from Babylon 5. One of the most cunning fighters in the Earth-Minbari war, Sheridan took out the Minbari's biggest ship by mining asteroids with nuclear weapons. In "Endgame," he has to outwit General Lefcourt, his former mentor, who can anticipate all of his moves, including a diversionary ground assault on Mars. But Lefcourt fails to anticipate Sheridan's tactic of having telepaths disable all of Lefcourt's ships.

Just remember, you may think all these discussions about space battle tactics are purely academic, but some people out there are already thinking about how to kick ass in space for realz.

Note: this thread on the Bad Universe and Astronomy Today forums was really helpful in thinking about this post. Some really good stuff there, check it out.

The trick to Audible's imprint is that the new line will be providing all-new works in addition to previously-print-published writing. According to Publishers Weekly:

The imprint... will feature original works from a number of authors such as Jack Campbell, Harry Turtledove, Mike Resnick, Allen Steele and Connie Willis. In addition, through deals with HarperCollins, Macmillan Audio, Recorded Books, Blackstone Audio, Harlequin and Wonder Audio Audible is offering exclusive digital downloads from some of those publishers' bestselling science fiction writers. As part of the imprint, Hugo Award-winning author Orson Scott Card will make monthly recommendations, and the first OSC Selects is Star Born by Andre Norton, priced at $17.47.

StarShipSofa producer Tony Smith says of the podcast:

Each week the StarShipSofa will deliver a full package of SF related audio material all free including audio fiction, fact audio essays, flash fiction and poetry, all by leading names in the SF field. Many many writers have agreed to let StarShipSofa narrate their works including Ben Bova, Joe Haldeman, Alistair Reynolds, M John Harrison, Ian Watson, Pat Cadigan, Harry Harrison, Joan D Vinge, Norman Spinrad, Ian MacDonald, J D Nordley, Bruce Sterling, Gweneth Jones, Landon Jones, John Varley, Pat Murphy, John Kessel, Laurel Winter, Jeff Vandermeer, Kevin J Anderson, Bradley Denton and Matthew Hughes, Ian Whates, Ken MacLoed, Ted Chiang, Elizabeth Bear, Mary Rosenblum, Nancy Kress and Chaz Brenchley. There will be two shows per week, the Wednesday show, also know as Aural Delights will contain narrated audio fiction, fact and poerty and the weekend show will be an in depth look into an author's life and work

StarShipSofa [official site]

Producer Lynn Hendee was mum on possible casting for the movie's lead role. "We all have our favorites, but it is crucial for the new director to weigh in on that." But she did reveal that author Card has finished a draft of the script and is "already working to make it even better." Hendee predicts that much of the film will be shot on a sound stage. "Ender's Game requires an extended pre-production due to the many visual effects." And by visual effects we hope they mean shooting the off-the-wall battle school zero gravity scenes. Who would you pick for child commander/war lord Ender?

We know for sure the first game will be based on one of the games that Ender plays during his training, but the company wants to turn this into a series, and eventually they're going to have to tell some sort of a story. Of course, in the book, the game is literally everything.

In the novel, Ender Wiggin is selected at the age of six to attend the Battle School, which the military uses with the hopes that they'll one day train a great military leader who will lead the fight against the "Buggers," an insect-like race that is at war with the humans. They do this by teaching via video games and simulations, and without spoiling things, those become extremely important. Games range from simulations computers, to what amounts to zero-gravity versions of Laser Tag.

Warners is developing the movie with Wolfgang Peterson at the helm, but they abandoned work on the game that usually accompanies every big scifi film these days. Does that mean they couldn't crack the idea and decided to leave it up to someone else? If you've read the book, you'd probably say yes.

Ender's Game In The Works [Sci Fi Wire]

• Minority Report and Other Stories, by Phillip K. Dick: Keir Dullea (who played Dave in 2001) reads these short stories from Dick's library. "Minority Report" is, of course, a lot better (and different) than the movie was, but the standout here is "Second Variety," which details artificially intelligent robots that have learned how to disguise themselves as humans in order to be more deadly. This came out years before Terminator and Battlestar Galactica, and is worth the price alone. Collection also includes "We Can Remember It For You Wholesale" which became Total Recall, and "Paycheck," which became a terrible Ben Affleck movie of the same name.
• The Dark Tower Series, by Stephen King: King's science fiction meets sorcery Dark Tower series has been coming out in dribbles for decades, and the last volume finally came out in 2004. I found that the best way to catch up with these was by chucking them onto my iPod while I was stuck in the car in Los Angeles all morning and evening. Some of the seven books in the series are expertly read by Frank Muller, who has narrated a huge share of King's novels. Tragically, he had a motorcycle accident several years ago, and has been unable to resume his narration work as a result. George Guidall picked up the reins and does an equally impressive job.
• Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card: In 2002 a 20th anniversary edition of Card's novel about the extensive training of young boy by the military to be the savior of all mankind was issued with a full cast production reading the story, and a bonus epilogue tacked on by Card. The project was extremely successful, and they also released the sequel Ender's Shadow with the same cast members. If you've never picked this book up, this is a great way to get into it.
• Neuromancer, by William Gibson: Gibson himself reads this audiobook version of his classic novel, and U2 provided a track for the book, with the group Black Rain contributing music and sound effects throughout the reading. It's moody and atmospheric, great for listening to while the rain is hammering down outside. Sometimes it can (oddly) be a mixed bag when the author reads their own work, but Gibson does a fantastic job.
• The Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson: Jennifer Wiltsie not only reads both the abridged and unabridged versions of this book about a nanotechnology-built learning "illustrated primer," but she also provides different voices and accents for all the characters. Not many readers can pull this off without being distracting, and she does a great job with this, particularly with the Primer and the young Nell character.
• Idlewild, by Nick Sagan: This book by Nick Sagan, the son of Carl, is read by a cast of characters and features a superb robotic female monotone as the voice of one of the A.I. taskmaster programs in this story about a virtual reality school for rich kids. It owes a lot to The Matrix, but the ending opens up a whole new world where the sequel Edenborn takes place. Immersive narration takes you deep inside the VR world in the novel.
• A Scanner Darkly, by Phillip K. Dick: Paul Giamatti does an excellent job of reading this novel and capturing the frenetic apathy that the world of Substance D brings on. I listened to this not long before the animated film came out, and I vastly prefer the audiobook version. Giamatti's range as an actor shows off even when you can't see his face.
• Transmission, by Hari Kunzru: Kunzru reads his own novel about a hacker from India who thinks he's found paradise in the United States, until he realizes he'll never escape his slave labor job as a database engineer for a temp firm. He unleashes a powerful computer virus that infects your computer with a dancing video of a Bollywood starlet so he can appear to step in and save the day with a "cure," but it doesn't go as planned. A great listen, and a wonderful read.
• Dune, by Frank Herbert: Clocking in at 21 hours long, this unabridged version of Herbert's classic novel about desert planets and space-folding spice drugs is read by a full cast and will require a serious time commitment. However, you'll get more satisfaction out of listening to this than you will watching the movie or the miniseries again. Perfect if you decide to drive across the continent, or through a desert somewhere.
• Idoru, by William Gibson: I didn't want to have two Gibson novels on this list, but Idoru was the first science fiction book I ever listened to, and it got me through my first year in Los Angeles. I have probably listened to this thing at least ten times, and it never gets old. Actor Jay O. Sanders does a superb reading job, providing different voices for all of the characters, and captures this book perfectly. Plus, it's a great starting point for Gibson if you missed out on the whole Neuromancer cycle.
• The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams: This series has appeared in multiple formats: read by the author, read by the full cast, read by Simon Jones (who played Arthur in the TV and radio versions), read by Martin Freeman (who played Arthur in the movie version), the BBC Radio versions, and even a Live in Concert version, featuring Douglas Adams giving live readings from his works in front of an audience. With multiple readers and multiple books, there is a ton to choose from here. In my opinion, the Douglas Adams and Simon Jones (and full cast version, including Simon Jones) editions are the best. Sorry, Martin. Technically, this gives this list a lot more than 11 books, but who's counting?