I’ve posted so sporadically here that I’m not sure who’s listening, but for those of you who might be interested, my first new novel in ten years is called Forty Million Summers and it’s been acquired by Tachyon Publications. So I’m doing my happy dance today.

One of the first rules of professional writing I learned was “Never give away anything for free.” But I’m old enough to break the rules if the spirit moves me. This is a tiny little brand-new science fiction story, which I hope might make you laugh…or not, depending on the mood you’re in.

This might have been more appropriate for Halloween, but, like a pumpkin-spice latte on a hot September day, it arrived before its time.

I haven’t been active here for a while, and I apologize to anyone who follows me. Part of the reason is that I’ve been busy setting up a Substack newsletter. This is the latest post—witches, beatniks, the Lavender Scare, and a movie I watch every Christmas. (Subscriptions are currently free.)

Extremely interesting, if far from conclusive. K2-18 wouldn’t be a comfortable place for human beings—more than twice as large as Earth and nine times as massive, orbiting a red dwarf star—but it’s fun to imagine a big watery world teeming with sentient seaweed or philosophically-minded jellyfish.

If you want to support something reliably Canadian instead of products tainted by their connection to the US, choose: —Laura Secord, not Hershey’s —Maple Leaf, not Oscar Mayer —Mark Carney, not Pierre Poilievre

Real Americans are all-in for our great neighbor Canada.

The more I see of Mark Carney, the better I like him. He’s smart, knowledgeable, at ease at the podium, and a perfect foil for the attacks on Canada’s sovereignty emanating from south of the border. The opposite of Poilievre, whose shallow sloganeering is instantly tiresome.

Best analysis I’ve seen yet, at least from a source outside Canada.

I’d kinda forgotten that this is the book’s 20th anniversary. Without question, the most popular and most commercially successful of all my novels.

Taking a little time for some vintage science fiction, especially the work of John Christopher, whose opus I somehow neglected. (I did read and enjoy his Tripod trilogy many years ago, and I’m looking forward to No Blade of Grass, The Long Winter, and The Ragged Edge.)

A Publishers Weekly article about the near-death of the mass market paperback, and you can spot a copy of my novel Spin in the photo that illustrates it. Sort of like coming across your own name on a tombstone.

Fellow Canadians! 🇨🇦 Consider signing the petition below asking the Prime Minister to consider revoking Elon Musk’s dual citizen status and revoke his passport immediately. www.ourcommons.ca/petitions/en...

It's Nice To Be Disliked (By One Of Those)

Celebrating Flag Day today—and reclaiming the flag from the “convoy” quislings, at a time when we face an unprecedented threat from south of the border. (Also bracing for the winter storm heading for southern Ontario!)

An American draft resisters crew, Toronto. 4th from left is Mary M from Georgia. She was a spirit guide to my wife and I. 3rd is Phillip from Texas. He taught me to be a carpenter. During Vietnam many young Americans came here, built lives, changed our politics. Maybe we need that influx again.

Trump has backed down…for now, in exchange for some fairly trivial gestures from Ottawa. But we still have a gun pointed at us—the US administration is still hostile and shockingly authoritarian—and I’ll be buying Canadian and boycotting US products until that changes.

Pierre Poilievre is currently on the CBC trying to promote himself by lending credence to Trump’s ludicrous rationale for tariffs. “Tariffs are wrong, but…” But nothing. Quisling.

Trump’s “reasons” for imposing tariffs on Canada are so implausible that he obviously has a different motive—presumably to crush Canadian independence, economically or politically or both. Buy Canadian, boycott American. True north strong and free.

We’re shopping more carefully now that Canada is under economic threat—postponing big purchases, planning more plain-&-basic meals, avoiding US products, buying Canadian wherever possible. This country is worth any sacrifice we might have to make. Canadians have done it before & we can do it again.

Best thing I’ve seen yet about Trump’s threats to Canada.

“Danielle Smith, Kevin O’Leary, and Jordan Peterson walk into Mar-a-Lago—“ “Wait, is this a joke?” “Yes. But not in the good way.”

“Number 24” is a poignant dramatization of the experience of Norwegian WW II resistance fighter Gunnar Sønsteby. Maybe especially poignant for Canadians, at a time when the apparently psychotic leader-in-waiting of the country to the south of us is making mouth noises about annexing our country.

Every year after Christmas dinner Aunt Felicia would entertain the family with her reenactment of a scene from Ridley Scott’s Alien.

Once a year I have to take the platter off my sixty-year-old idler-drive turntable and oil all the mechanical bits that need lubricating. This is the sort of entertainment you don’t get with Spotify.

Some Canadian art for tomorrow’s solstice: Lawren Harris, “Winter Morning,” 1914. I don’t mind these dark and moody winter days—great for sitting by the window and writing—though they tend to wear out their welcome by the time February staggers into March.

This 4-LP boxed set was distributed by the Book of the Month Club in 1964, and they must have made a million of them—they’re a yard sale mainstay, the opposite of “collectible” vinyl. But it’s actually a pretty good introduction to the pre-Dylan folk scene.

The incoming US president called our prime minister the “governor” of a “state,” so I thought I’d check, and as of dawn’s early light the flag was still there.

If one grim day, historians and a stunned American people construct a timeline for how we came to decline from a democracy to at least a quasi-authoritarian state, they will include 1) the destruction of the norm of FBI director independence from POTUS; and 2) the pardon of the January 6 defendants.

Anybody else watching this? I’m normally a science fiction guy when it comes to TV—loved The Expanse & For All Mankind—but this series hooked me from the beginning. Like watching alternate-universe versions of people you’ve known all your life—you recognize them even when you don’t recognize them.

The older I get, the more my record collection feels like a time machine: eavesdropping on the past by listening to music. “Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section” was recorded (superbly) in Los Angeles in 1957—the year Sputnik went into orbit and Paul McCartney was introduced to John Lennon.

Revisiting the (relatively) obscure corners of my record collection again, and this is a good one: straight-up electric blues circa 1965 to warm up the room on a chilly day.

In his book @mattstrassler.bsky.social often uses air and wind as an analogy—air as a medium, wind as a field, sound as a wave—which always reminded me of the Christina Rossetti poem: Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads, The wind is passing by.

Lately I’ve been listening to some of the more obscure discs in my collection. Not sure how to describe this one—quasi-psychedelic big band jazz exotica? Very much of its time (1967), eccentric and kinda kitschy but oddly enjoyable.

The local thrift shop has been a dry well for the last few months, but I found these today.

Forthcoming Italian edition. Gorgeous cover art!

I wouldn’t know a boson from a fermion if it bit me on the ankle, but I do love reading popular science books. This looks like an especially good one.

Len Deighton’s Bomber is a fine novel, and I was fascinated to learn it was the first work of fiction to be written on a word processor—an IBM MT72 “the size and shape of a small upright piano.” Deighton was the only private individual IBM allowed to own one, circa 1969.

I’m occasionally asked for writing advice. But no two writers have the same problems—what comes easily to me might be a struggle for you, and the bump you glide past like an Olympic skateboarder might be the one that leaves me face down on the pavement…

It’s chilly in the great outdoors today. “A deep and dark November,” to paraphrase Simon and Garfunkel.

Since I’ve been introducing myself as an author, I should mention that I’m also married to one. Sharry’s biographical account of Neil Young’s childhood was published by ECW Press in 2014 and remains in print ten years later. “Supremely compelling”—Rolling Stone.

Looking forward to this one. Early reviews are enthusiastic, apparently.

By their books ye shall know them: introducing myself with shelfies, final instalment. These are some of the books I’ve written, in their various editions and translations. Amazing what stacks up after forty years in the business. (I’m not prolific, just persistent.)

By their books ye shall know them: introducing myself with shelfies, part three. This time it’s nonfiction. The shelf mascots are one astronaut Smurf and two glow-in-the-dark saucer aliens that formerly served as place card holders at a bar mitzvah reception.

Photo from yesterday’s jaunt through the local park. Posting it because we’re approaching that season in Toronto when the sky closes like a steel vault and sunlight begins to seem like a dimly-remembered phenomenon from the Before Times. Note to my January self: blue skies are an actual thing.

By their books ye shall know them: introducing myself with shelfies, part two. Today it’s general fiction. Nothing like a systematic collection, just a remnant fraction of all the books that have passed through my hands. Some books come and go, some linger—it’s one of the mysteries of life.

By their books ye shall know them: introducing myself with shelfies. Today it’s a random chunk of my SF/F collection. In the coming days I’ll do fiction and nonfiction. Lots of 20th century sf here—it’s a particular interest of mine—but I don’t claim it’s superior to what’s being written today.

Maybe one thing that sets Owning the Unknown apart from other “atheist books” is that it acknowledges how fascinating the debate can be. Metaphysical speculation and deep dives into the ultimate questions: fun! Just don’t pass it off as revealed truth, please.