One of the subjects I've wanted to write about for some time is what Michael Garibaldi might call "my second favorite thing in the universe": science fiction.
Ever since I was a kid I was fascinated by the worlds created by H.G. Wells, Isaac Asimov, Ursula K. LeGuin, the late Andre Norton, Samuel R. Delany, Gene Wolfe, and so many others. You too, dear reader, will soon have the opportunity to share my excitement.
While I was away this week, the good folks at DHL dropped off my copy of Alastair Reynolds' brand-new novel, Century Rain, which I'd ordered from Amazon.co.uk. (It won't be released stateside for a couple more months, and I just couldn't wait.)
The Welsh-born Alastair Reynolds does space science for a day job - he works for the European Space Agency. He's also a damned fine writer. At just 39 years old, he's now giving us the fifth in a series of novels (plus a pair of novellas published as Diamond Dogs, Turquoise Days) that began with Revelation Space. I'll be giving Reynolds a well-deserved post or two soon; I know I'll be busy this weekend reading Century Rain.
