A tale of two titles

26 03 2023

I have done something notably foolish. Which is perhaps nothing new, though the circumstances on this occasion are unusual. To whit, I am publishing two books this year. They will be released to the world on 10 April (or, for those in the American-speaking world, April 10th).

The books themselves are (1) The 1001 Top Immortality Treatments You Must Try Before You Die, a collection of mostly-new short fiction (and most of it standalone, though it does include a new Titan story and the latest, longest and possibly last Gordon Mamon novella) and (2) Soft Dim Skies, a Titan novella which draws together many of the strands from my Wide Brown Land collection. Here they are side by side:

Composite image showing the front covers of 'The 1001 Top Immortality Treatments You Must Try Before You Die' and 'Soft Dim Skies'. Cover artwork is respectively by James Morrison and Peter Jurik. Both depicted scenes look notably cold, though they differ sharply since one features an android of possibly murderous intent, equipped with dangerous-looking knife and struggling to keep its feet within a cryobank corridor, and one displays a Titan lakeside diorama for which the word 'bucolic' would be an accurate description if the word 'bucolic' happened to mean 'unremittingly cold', which so far as the author knows it does not.

Is it sensible to be publishing them both on the same day? Probably not; but there you go.

Imaged text snippet from the prologue of 'Crimea River', the Gordon Mamon novella within 1001 Top Immortality Treatments. Gordon is met by his new colleague Pascal 4, an android. (Text reads: ‘Welcome aboard the Crimea River,’ said the service droid, a Bogart-class model which appeared to have seen better days, though not recently. ‘May I carry your baggage?’ ‘No,’ replied Gordon. ‘But you can tell me your name.’ ‘Indeed I can,’ said the unit. ‘My designation is Pilotable/Autonomous Synthetic Cybertronically Augmented Labourer 4. You can call me Pascal.’ ‘Indeed I can,’ said Gordon, which rather seemed to evade the issue. He stepped forward. The airlock hatch closed behind him, and another opened ahead.)

The 1001 Top Immortality Treatments You Must Try Before You Die ranges from serious-minded hard SF, in stories set on Venus and Titan and some far-future place in between, to absurdist potted histories of the world’s first sentient academic journal and of an exceedingly reluctant assassin in a city-state overburdened with namesakes. There is (in the print edition only, because e-booking would aid deciphering too much) a mercifully-short poem written entirely in WebDings. I’m pretty sure there is something for everyone to dislike, which I think is always the defining characteristic of a nicely-diverse collection of stories. I’m intrigued to see what readers will make of it.

Imaged text snippet from 'Celsius 451', a story within the 1001 Top Immortality Treatments collection. Mei Kasprzak, within the airlock, is testing out the suit which she hopes will keep her alive upon the Venusian surface. (Text reads: She pressed the outer hatch control. The tac worked well enough: the control surface against her fingertips, or a convincing simulation. Solidity, absent the metal’s searing heat. Nonetheless, Kasprzak’s gloved fingers were hopelessly clumsy, stiff within layers of refrigeration, insulation, and alloy armour. Maybe they’ll go better outside. The hatch slid open, splashing the airlock in the burnt light of the Venusian surface.)

Soft Dim Skies is a story which has been brewing for more than a decade. It centres on two of the characters from Wide Brown Land: Cory, from the ‘CREVjack’ sequence, and Portia from ‘Fixing a Hole’. Other somewhat-familiar characters also appear. That said, the earlier Titan collection isn’t required reading; Skies is intended to be complete within itself, though there is scope for more to follow. I’m pleased with the shape it has taken. The cover art, by the way, is by Peter Jurik, a Slovakian illustrator who does way cool space art.

Imaged text snippet from Chapter 1 of 'Soft Dim Skies'. The text, characteristic of a recurring theme within the novella, features Cory complaining about the lack of specificity in Portia's description of the coding piecework for which she has hired him. (Text reads: ‘You’re not being very specific,’ he said. ‘In my experience, job fulfilment is generally most satisfactory when clear guidelines are given. You won’t tell me what it is you want to achieve, nor will you tell me who recommended me to you.’ Let alone how you found me here, under a changed family name, he thought, though of course could not say this. ‘It’s hardly surprising that I’m left with the impression I can’t provide meaningful assistance to you. It’s not really a way to do business, I have to say.’ ‘I knew your aunt,’ she told him, steadily meeting his gaze. ‘She spoke of you as highly capable, and methodical, and inventive. All of which are qualities I can use on this project.’ ‘Which is? Stream flow monitors are mature tech nowadays, you don’t require someone to craft custom mods into them if you’re using them for their stated purpose.’ ‘You’re right,’ she replied. ‘It’s adaptation towards a non-standard end. I can’t really say more than that. I need someone I can trust. Until I know that person is you, I can’t be completely specific. But from what I heard from Teresa Maria, you appear a good fit. And your work has been good to this point.’ The food arrived. They made a start.)

The new work in the collection (which, as noted, is most of it) and the entirely of Soft Dim Skies have been edited by the consistently-adroit James Morrison, whose cover art also graces the 1001 Top Immortality Treatments collection. It’s a delight to work with someone who ‘gets’ my stories as James does, and my hope is that this shows through in the text(s).

«


Actions

Information

Leave a comment