Alison Sinclair

At Farthing Party last August (good grief), I was on a panel on the question of “Who is Qualified to Write SF?”. My intro packed in an awful lot of thought, so I figured I would take the opportunity to unpack – though why I did not post this until now I can’t really explain, because it reached close to final form in the first couple of weeks after. Might have something to do with submitting Shadowborn, going out west, and starting a new job.

I raised four points:

• The usefulness of having a background (whether acquired through formal education or not) in the discipline (defined broadly) that is the focus of the story, which helps with the details, helps with getting the fundamentals right, and allows extrapolation (in any direction – forward, sideways, or backwards), as opposed to what I chose to call fabrication, which is just picking up the trappings [i]. At the panel we spent a lot of time on the big and small things that made us go ‘owww’ and – metaphorically or otherwise – throw books against walls.
• The need to know and avoid the ‘big dumb clichés’, the misperceptions of science promoted by news media that tend to normalize the aberrant and popular narrative media conventions that romanticize the deviant. Everyone who is a member of a social group or practitioner of an occupation or serious hobby has to deal with the ‘big dumb clichés’ around their domain. Others have written about the annoying and persistent myths around science; my personal pet peeves are the distortions of human research and medicine (a longer rant for a later time). This is about getting the culture, norms and ethics right [ii].
• The importance of being engaged with science. I spoke about the social awkwardness around being a young woman in science at social events – particularly those where the sexes were herded into different corners (we’re talking about the late 1970s and early 80s) – and saying what I did was the kiss of death to conversation. I still get the sense that many people who express judgments about science on the Internet are as checked out on the subject as those women who’d tell me that science was boring or too difficult for them [iii]. This is not a position to write SF from.
• However, being engaged does not mean being uncritical, which brings me to the fourth point, which is an argument that the best people to undertake the critique of science within SF may not be scientists [iv]. Science is a dominant, if not the dominant narrative in our society, and as much as we need competence and accuracy in the depiction of science in SF, we need competence and accuracy in the critique of science in SF – as a culture, as a system, as what my history lecturer would have said a ‘project of modernity’ – as the way it reinforces dominant narratives and power relations, and how it subverts and is subverted by them [v]. This requires a different position and a different toolkit, which is where SF needs people who don’t have a science background, and aren’t socialized and acculturated.

And this is by no means a complete list. Other thoughts:

• In my observation, it’s more likely that a writer who writes prose that makes me drool, purr, and mutter ‘envy is a sin, envy is a sin’, does not have a formal education in science than that they do (note the epidemiologist’s phrasing here). I may be biased by knowing how much my own style deteriorated from late high school to graduate school, and by the memory of having my style described as both ‘flowery’ and ‘insensitive’ during the same university term, by a science prof and an english prof respectively.
• Jo Walton and Jim McDonald both said the writing – the mastery of storytelling – was paramount. Yes, yes, yes! If a writer has the writing and storytelling part right, I’ll not only be more prepared to believe that they have the information right if I don’t know the subject, and more willing to accept implausibilities and forgive errors (having fact-checked) if I do.
• There’s also the problem of time.There’s that million words of garbage or that 10 000 hours of practice needing to be got over. Science-science doesn’t generally give one as much time as social sciences and the arts do for the simple exercise of putting words together to convey one’s meaning accurately, much less time to think about narrative or the production of story.

Expansions

[i] We can argue about whether or not extrapolation is a necessary criterion in the definition. It’s in my own, particularly on those odd Tuesdays when I define SF as a product of the present day in dialogue with the needs, concerns and technologies of the present day, and therefore needing a reference to the present day. Plus, I like to watch writers do the extrapolation. However, my definition of SF is anything but fixed. See also [v].

[ii] And for me personally, errors there are more offensive than errors in fact.

[iii] Today, I could offer a number of responses that might lead into productive conversations about how and why they had become checked out (if indeed they were) – public perception of science, science education, dynamics of inclusion and exclusion – but then I was too young and skinless to deal well with what felt like dismissal.

[iv] At the panel I mentioned butting heads with fellow listserv members on the subject of Margaret Atwood, and realizing upon reflection that the heat was actually being generated by a struggle over who did and did not have the dominant narrative. We were not arguing so much about whether Atwood is a SF writer, or whether she writes good SF or not; we were arguing about power, privilege, and who gets to be the authority. I saw the arts having the dominant narrative, and Atwood being granted disproportionate attention because she was such a major figure in CanLit. I suspect my fellow members saw science as having the dominant narrative, and myself as dissing Atwood because she was neither within the field of SF or the field of science.

My early experience did not suggest that science was privileged. The formative years of my education were at an all-girls school that came out of a particular tradition in female education that took the education and vocation of young women unusually seriously, but which nevertheless centred on the arts, leaving the sciences as something of an afterthought. Then, before I had finished school, we moved (back – it’s complicated) to Canada, in the mid-70s, where the arts were the chosen platform for the expression of Canadian identity. It was in America, where science and scientific prowess were one of the platforms for the battles of the Cold War, that science was being actively promoted.

In addition, as a woman training in science, I did not feel privileged. I felt a barely tolerated outsider, stumbling through the complicated dance that would keep the men around me seeing me as a scientist rather than as a female, and entirely too aware that my femaleness would be used to push me outside any time it suited them. I’d discovered feminism, but many feminist writers appeared to equate science with masculinity and condemn it as a tool of patriarchy (it is, it is), leaving me with the sense – rightly or wrongly – that they regarded as science as no place for a woman, and a woman in science as an unnatural being (… where had I heard that before?). It was a splendid moment for me when I picked up a 1982 issue of Ms magazine in which they published a long excerpt from Vivian Gornick’s “Women in Science: Portraits from a World in Transition”.

I got clued to the biases resulting from being embedded in science via various inputs. The ones that come to mind are:

• the inescapable experience of being female in science and observing how the science around gender was refracted through social expectations
• the work of critics of the sociology of science like Evelyn Fox Keller and Hilary Rose [vi]
• going into medicine, where there had been extensive work by feminists and sociologists looking at how the science of medicine intersects with the sociology of medicine and with the lines of power and privilege
• taking a course on the history of modern Europe, which turned out to be an intellectual and political history of Europe, which gave me the perspective of science as one of the projects of modernity – along with feminism, democracy and individuality.

And I also clue to the potential limitations of science fiction purely by scientists by reading a form of SF written primarily by insiders. I’ve been reading naval and military fiction and SF ever since I got into Hornblower via Star Trek [vii]. I recognize the writers’ authority – not only do most of them have the real-world credentials equivalent to having science degrees and writing SF, but the work gives off that particular resonance of an author confident both in story and subject. However, being an outsider, I also recognize the unexamined assumptions in many of the popular works [viii], and feel the tension of being pulled into the story  and yet being fully aware that as civilian, a physically unexceptional female, and someone whose politics – at least these days – is left of centre, I do not belong there. Well, other than as a shreddie. That’s another area where Lois McMaster Bujold stands out, because she takes the perspective both of the insider and the outsider, does not take for granted militarization as a norm (Barrayar is a militarized society in the process of demilitarization), and questions the power-relations. Furthermore, Miles is by birth, socialization, and ambition an insider, but because of his physical limitations is an outsider.

When I was writing Cavalcade, I was in the middle of medical school and conscious of the ongoing process of socialization to professional norms , and the difference between the realities of the profession and the ‘big dumb clichés’. I wanted a special forces team aboard, and I was sure that popular representations of the military were as distorted as those of medicine. I read a whole variety of books written by insiders, would-be insiders, and people who were consciously using an outside perspective and outside toolkit to look in. Ones I particularly remember were “The Company They Keep”, written by an anthropologist married to a special forces soldier, “The Militarization of Women’s Lives”, about the influence of even a peacetime military on women, families and society, a book about praetorianism (whose exact title I can’t remember), which picked apart the American republic’s history of profound ambivalence and indeed distrust of military power as a threat to democracy, fascinating to someone living next door to the post-WWII, post-Cold War, militarized republic. I never was sure enough of myself to present a point of view from the special forces unit, but their presence and the relationship between them and the forming government ran through the novel.

[v] There are a heck of a lot of my personal causes and beefs embedded in this viewpoint, and unpacking those would run for few thousand words or so. Suffice for the moment to say I Have Views about the social as well as the artistic purposes of science fiction. But see also point [i]. On alternate Wednesdays, I don’t care about the social purposes of SF; I just want some shiny, irresponsible fun.

[vi] Rose discusses science fiction as offering models for a feminist science in a later chapter in her book “Love, Knowledge and Power”, and Jane Donawerth uses Rose’s ideas to give shape to a broad discussion of women’s presentation of science in science fiction (with lots of examples) in “Utopian Science in Science Fiction by Women,” in “Frankenstein’s Daughters”.

[vii] I once had a conversation with Marie Jakober about our shared fascination with war despite being unambiguously opposed to it IRL. I don’t recall that we reached a conclusion, but we were fully aware of the contradiction.

[viii] Unexamined within the work, at least.

When: Thu 12:30
Title:  Bio-Ethics
All Participants:  Alison Sinclair, Judy T. Lazar, Laura Anne Gilman,
Russell Blackford, Tomoko Masuda
Moderator:  Laura Anne Gilman
Description:  Medical experiments, drug companies, cloning, insurance,
bookies and you.

When: Fri 12:30
Title:  Alison Sinclair Signing
All Participants:  Alison Sinclair
Duration:  0:30 hrs:min
Language:  English

When: Fri 20:00
Title:  Mad Social Scientists
All Participants:  Alison Sinclair, Sparks, Shariann Lewitt
Moderator:  Sparks
Description:  Why do the chemists get all the fun? Why do you have to
be a physicist to destroy the world? The panellists discuss the
possibility of using social science to destroy the universe.

When: Sun 10:00
Title:  Science for SF Writers
All Participants:  Julie E. Czerneda, Alison Sinclair, David Clements,
David D. Levine
Moderator:  David Clements
Description:  Where can you get crash courses on science for science
fiction writers? Is it actually useful?

When: Sun 11:00
Title:  Food for Writers
All Participants:  Alison Sinclair, Jon Singer, Sharon Lee, Debra
Doyle
Moderator:  Jon Singer
Description:  So you have 90000 words to write, tthree months to do it
in, and the fridge is bare. What foods keep you going?

When: Mon 10:00
Title:  Author Reading
All Participants:  Alison Sinclair, Edward Willett, Heidi Lampietti

(Cross-posted from Reality Skimming.)

It seemed to come together late for all concerned, but it came together: Con-Version 23. I’d decided to be a lurker at this con and not volunteer for any panels, and I headed over to Calgary a day early to have a chance to hang out with Rebecca Bradley (science GOH) and Marie Jakober. Coming in to land from the north, I didn’t get much sense of Calgary’s growth, which I am assured has been prodigious; it was certainly as green as the coast, testifying to a wet summer. No mosquitos, because of the cold, change from Westercon.

First event, after a side-trip to the UofC library to polish off a little work, was Rebecca and Robin’s party, attended by the Con GOH Jack McDevitt, the singing IFWAns (more about them later), Edge notables and assorted others such as Marie and myself. Though blurry with fatigue (How can someone get jet-lagged on a 1 h time change? – I blame the altitude) I was up until midnight, having fascinating back-deck and buffet-table conversations on a huge range of subjects, and eating too much of the yummy food. I finally got to thank Jack McDevitt for giving me my one and only Nebula award nomination, years ago, for Blueheart. Lynda Williams, Jennifer Lott (Lynda’s daughter) and Nathalie Mallet arrived from PG around 9 pm, all full of beans despite having driven all day.

The Show’s Not Over ‘Till the Captain Sings

The con itself kicked off the following evening, with the opening ceremonies, which I skived, and with the musical: “The Phantom of the Space Opera”, which I am very pleased I did not, though I arrived after the start and missed seeing the chair at the front Marie had saved for me. Stood at the back, and took digital pot-shots of the action, most of which turned out blurred. Either the subject was dancing too hard, or I was laughing too hard.

In brief, the story involves the crew of the Starship Insipid, captained by one Captain Quirk, who endure a visitation by the Phantom of Space Opera (Steve Swanson), who is searching the galaxy for musical talent. One by one, in a desperate attempt to avert the consequences of having the Captain sing, the crew take turns trying to impress the implacable Phantom. Dr. Temperence “Bones” Brennan (Rebecca, perfectly typecast) standing in for Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy, alas can do little for the mounting casualty count, declaring “I’m the lady who loves bones” and delegating the disposal of the inadequately skeletonized remains to Nurse Chapstick (Colleen Eggerton). Which works fine until Amanda Grayson (Danita Maslan) reveals she was standing in for her son Spork, who has returned to Vulcan on account of Ponn Farr, at which point Nurse Chapstick, who has been waiting SEVEN LONG YEARS for this, demands the keys to the space shuttle; Phantom or no Phantom, dead redshirts or no dead redshirts, she’s Vulcan-bound. Shotty (Kim Greyson) delights the audience if not the Phantom with “Pretty Kingon”, complete with lusty growl, delivered to the Klingon women on the viewscreen. The blue-collar gang receives a moment in the spotlight never granted them by the original show as the ship’s plumber and Number 2 (Val King) takes her turn at command between coffee and lunch break (got a good union, that woman), and the ship’s cook (Nicole Chaplain-Pearman) deals handily with a sudden infestation of tribbles (protein!). Even the Bored, with their multicoloured suspiciously Rubic’s cube-like ship and tinfoil prostheses, are summarily dispatched.

But the end is unavoidable – the Captain (Randy McCharles) has to sing. For a moment it seems as though the villain will be incapacitated by the sheer screechin’ sonic horror of the Captain’s highs – as indeed are all the crew and the front 5 rows of the audience – but the song ends, the Phantom rallies, and Things Look Bad for Our Heroes. Quick huddle; Captainly insight that the Phantom’s mortal weakness is that he is a male phantom, at which point Lieutenant Allura (Anna Bortolotto) is pushed forwards with urgent instructions to – well, distract him. “Can it be,” breathes the Phantom. “Can it be … talent?” While Lt. Allura hypnotizes the Phantom, Shotty and others – a little conga line – sneak up on him with the quantum technobabbleogizmo intended to neutralize his power (which looks suspiciously like a Tralthan football sock).

The Phantom bagged, he is expelled from the conveniently-located bridge airlock, and swallowed by a whale (which I know is, as Granny Weatherwax would say, Traditional, but I’m having a little bit of trouble fitting into the story). Nothing keeps a bad pandimensional being down, and the Phantom promptly reappears, and boy, is he ticked. So the story ends, very Untraditionally, in death and destruction. Or I may not have got that straight, but I was laughing too hard.

For additional entertainment, there were viewscreen interpolations of Leonard Nimoy’s rendering of The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins, and William Shatner’s Rocketman, delivered in his best lounge-lizard recitative. There was also a very strange mockumentary – I hope it was a spoof – about an attempted demolition of a beached whale carcass.

Most of the cast members have been filking and singing karaoke for years. The strength of the voices varied, but the performances were consistently lively, and the words came through well. There was a continuity hiccough in the middle where a miscue sent the entire cast 15 minutes into the future, but that was quickly corrected and, hey, this is SF! And it enabled a couple of priceless ad-libs from people who were clearly having WAY too much fun. I gather the filming didn’t take, so the cast are or have reassembled to videotape it; when they do, ooh, I wants it! My photos on Flickr:

• The cast reprises their opening number “All that Jazz” at the costume competition.
• Captain Quirk confronts his nemesis.
• Space-shake, courtesy of The Bored.
• Rebecca, in motion!

Announcing, ORU Anthology 2

Lynda’s ORU panels have become a standard feature, and this one was special because of the release of the Okal Rel Anthology 2 from Windstorm Creative, which included stories from IFWA members, and a classy cover by none other than the Phantom himself (Steve Swanson). Lynda’s copies had not arrived by the time they made it out, but Sandy Fitzpatrick’s had [link to Flickr]; I apologise for the flash whiteout of the book cover, but in the photo without flash, the book was visible, but the faces looked like they’d been cast in a horror-movie and had just seen the monster over my shoulder! Lynda distributed more of the famous ORU buttons (I picked up the ones that said “Get Rel” and “I make bad cargo” – the latter being from Righteous Anger and referring to Horth’s being a very bad backseat driver). I read the scene from Throne Price that introduces Horth, Sandy read the beginning of her story “Return”, and Randy the beginning of his, “For Amanda”.

Lynda, Marie and Rebecca Get Religion

All in their different ways. On Sunday morning, Lynda and Marie did a two-woman panel on “Unconventional Religion and SF: The Way of the Future in More Ways than One?” The balance was more towards life than science fiction, with discussions of the need for ritual, whether religion is necessary as a moral anchor for a society, whether religion’s influence was benign or pernicious in the modern world, whether the human race will evolve beyond a need for religion, private versus public religion, etc. As is usual, on Monday, the day after Con-Version, the very first copies of Rebecca’s forthcoming The Lateral Truth: An Apostate’s Bible Stories arrived from Scroll Press; it is to be their second release, in November. Rebecca read two stories from it. The first I don’t recall, but the second “The Cares of the World, and Martha”, is a sardonic commentary on the tendency of male revolutionaries to take for granted that domestic comforts just happen. Marge Piercy (feminist author of Vida – about the radical left in the 60s and 70s – and City of Darkness, City of Light – about the French Revolution) would approve.

Rebecca’s several science GOH presentations stemmed from her interest in Alternative Archaeology, the heady brew of misdatings, misattribution, mysticism, charlatanism, and fantasy that swirls around antiquities such as Nan Madol, Tihuanacu, and the Sphinx. She entertainingly dissected the many and strange roots of the pseudo-science of Paleovisitology, as promulgated by von Daniken.

News and new releases

At one point I came into the Dealer’s Room to find a group-photo just breaking up: this was Edge, making the official announcement of its merger with Dragon Moon Press, which, with the previous merger with Tesseracts, makes it the largest dedicated SF/F publisher in Canada. And the ORU was there at the beginning: Throne Price was Edge’s third title. (Marie’s The Black Chalice being the first). I’d long admired the Dragon Moon covers, and I picked up a copy of Jana Oliver‘s Sojourn, partly because of its cover, and party because I was wondering how she’d manage to pull of what promised to be a merry farrago of time-travellers, shape-shifters, and historical serial killers in 1888 London. She did. It moves quickly, with details of a less-than-idea future deftly sketched in (adding a new twist to redundancy – being marooned in time), and two charming Victorian gentlemen (with secrets of their own) and an amiable large spider as companions to her independent time-travelling heroine.

Aside from The Lateral Truth, the other books I’m waiting impatiently for are Nathalie Mallet’s The Princes of the Golden Cage, which is gathering good reviews (see Nathalie’s blog), and Nina Mumteanu‘s Darwin’s Paradox, which is forthcoming from Dragon Moon Press.

SF is Alive and Well and Living in Calgary

A panel on “Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy” attested to the vitality of the Canadian SF scene: Susan Forrest from Red Deer Press, Brian from Edge, academic Robert Runte, Karl Johanson of Neo-Opsis, and writers Nina Mumteanu, Calvin Jim (aka helmsman Sudoku of the good ship Insipid) and Lynda. Virginia O’Dine from Bundoran Press was in the audience. What distinguishes Canadian SF: Robert’s take on it (maybe quoting, I didn’t note down): American SF ends with the character triumphant, Japanese SF has no ending, British SF ends in gloom and defeat, Canadian SF ends in a different place altogether, unsure whether it’s better or worse. Either I don’t agree, or I’m not Canadian, since my own resolutions could be best described as “the end of one set of problems is the beginning of another” (a steal from the end of Marge Piercy’s Gone to Soldiers, by the way), which I consider optimistic – since by then the reader should know the character’s up to it. I don’t think British SF is quite as gloomy any more: in the 70s and 80s, yes, but the space opera renaissance doesn’t encourage it. The hero-as-bystander phenomenon in Canadian SF was the subject of a thread in the SF Canada listsrv recently.

What else?

Doing karaoke with the IFWAns until long after the last bus had gone – the DJ said he’d never known a first set go 2 and a half hours. Good food: both the Radisson Airport hotel restuarant and the nearby Thai Place were excellent. Good company: eating lunch with Rebecca, Marie, and Jack McDevitt; eating breakfast with Lynda, Jenny and Marie, eating at times I’d lost track of with Marie and Jenny. Missing panels while talking about David Weber’s Bahzell fantasies with Sandy. Coming late to Jack McDevitt’s reading and being perplexed and entertained by an excerpt from his story from the forthcoming anthology “Sideways in Crime“. Talking about researching European history with Nina Mumteanu. Hanging out at the Edge table [Flickr] – come a long way from 3 books! Other things I’m sure I’ll remember once I’ve hit publish on this enormous post. I did try live-blogging via email, but found my entries parked in the ‘draft’ queue when I logged in. Time to find and change a default.

All photos on Flickr tagged with conversion23.
Con-Version 23 on Technorati: “Con-Version 23”

Arrived late Thursday night. So far the score is No. panels given, 1, No. panels attended, 0. I am abashed, because there were several panels I would have gone to but that I had a couple of items left over from the week at work to take care of that I thought could be done within an hour. Slight misjudgement there. I am determined I have left work behind me now.

The one panel I sat on was a relaxed 9 pm panel on “SF Mind Control” with a good-sized, active audience. The other panelists were Donna McMahon and Danita Masian (whose first novel, Rogue Harvest, had its launch today). We had as much real world reflection as SF: cults, Bountiful, propaganda, Nazis, cold war, office life, conformity, the “7-up” series of documentaries, religion, gender socialization, criminality, biological basis of behavior; what was socialization, what was indoctrination, and what was mind control; whether the Internet was something that gave us immunity from the kind of media control that fascist and Bolshevik regimes exercised. Books and films mentioned: The Manchurian Candidate, 1984, Brave New World, We, The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Puppet Masters, Stepford Wives, Dances with Knives.

I also caught up with people – having lived in Calgary from 1995-2000, and attended at least 5 Con-Versions over 8 years, there are a great many familiar faces – and having 4 days instead of the usual 2 is making that a much less scrambled affair. I’ve made it into the Dealer’s Room, which at the last con I went to (V-con) I never even did, and I might make it into the art show. This year they’re offering guided tours with a docent, which I think is an excellent idea.

Calgary is extraordinarily green and puddled, and you ask locals about it and they just shake their heads and groan. I’ve heard sad stories about flooded basements and destroyed books, including stocks of the writers’ own. Mosquitos are plentiful with all the standing water, so there were opening night jokes about mosquitos bearing off some of the guests. A zealous parent outside the Y nailed not only her wriggling child but my passing self with citronella. Prince Edward Island Park was flooded, so the Shakespeare in the Park has moved to Mount Royal – but it alas does not start until after I leave. Stampede is impending, with even the swank downtown hotels mounting plywood saloon faces and all the guests appearing at opening in white 10-gallon hats.

The visitor to Calgary, at lest the one coming into the D-gates, is greeted by the ? I decided to dub it a femidactyl, or maybe a chickidactyl ? swooping out of the ? uhh ? fluorescent lights. Perhaps it was to honor the discovery of feathered dinosaurs, and the long sweeping metal columns linking it to its outriders of bat and eagle was an artistic impression of a taxonomic tree.

Calgary was hot and smoky with the drift from forest and grassfires; I wilted and was not nearly as social as I had wished to be, so saw little of Friday except the registration line-up. Saturday am I had a 10 am reading (is there ever a good time for a reading) with Lynda, where I read from “Suspended Lives”, a short story just published in Julie Czerneda?s Space Inc. anthology. If you’re at Worldcon, there will be a lanch party. Tell Julie I sent you. Lynda read the bit of The Courtesan Prince where a Reetion pilot (Ann) is improvising her way through the first official encounter with the Gelacks in centuries (including Amel). Subsequently I was on a panel on “Humans in Space”, where I felt like the lone technophile among social scientists; I had come prepared to speak on the medical challenges facing humans in space, whereas the panel went off in the direction of the political and social challenges facing the US (mainly) and the world of justifying space travel given the problems of earth. My reference, by the way, for a chunk of my research, is Frances Ashcroft’s Life at the Extreme: The Science of Survival on the subject of human adaptation to all extremes of environment, compared with other animal adaptation. Good panel, covered a lot of ground. My other panel was “Babylon 5: Five years after”, in which panelists and audience agreed that, yes, it was a great show, but disagreed on where exactly we would mark the point of it becoming great (do we hide the first, or the first and second seasons from people we would like to convert?), and whether fandom is its own worst enemy because we will point out the flaws and expect greatness. (Where I got hooked was Season 2, Episode 2, “Revelations”, which is not a bad place to pick it up. About half of the Season 2 episodes are well worth watching and watching again. And Season 3, yum!).

Events I attended were a reading by Dave Duncan from his forthcoming Blades’ novel Impossible Odds; the prologue is up at his website and this was Chapter 1, wherein one undistinguished and one too-young Blade are set an impossible task. Lynda has a photograph of Dave brandishing the cover. Marie Jakober had the paperback cover of her award-winning Civil War novel to show; that is also due out shortly. A preliminary, very small, image of the Edge edition of her fantasy Even the Stones is up at the Edge site. on the future books page. Dr. Phil Currie of the Royal Tyrell museum gave a talk on “Dinosaurs on SF”, complete with book covers ranging from pulp Edgar Rice Burroughs to Greg Bear’s Darwinia and Robert Sawyer’s Farseer series. Not to mention Jurassic Park. He filled us in on the behind-the-scenes of the feathered dinosaurs story and introduced us to some ofthe bestiary from the Alberta beds. I also heard Tim Hills talk about archery in SF, an expert free-associating about everything from bow design, styles of archery in various cultures, the sharpest points (obsidian, as shown by the researches of a surgeon enthusiast), the fastest fastshooter (2.1 s/arrow), the Mongol Ambassador outshooting the cream of English Bowmen in the ?Tudor years, Cape Buffalo hide …