When Science Fiction Goes Too Far

The Facebook group, Best Science Fiction and Fantasy Short Fiction, was discussing “A Walk in the Sun” by Geoffrey A. Landis. The group had read the story before, and my previous comment was: “Good sole survivor story that reminded me of Kip’s journey across the Moon in Have Spacesuit-Will Travel. Unfortunately, it’s way too unrealistic. I did catch the magnificent desolation reference.”

This time, when I read “A Walk in the Sun,” I found it harder to get into the story. Landis asks us to believe that an astronaut stranded on the Moon, waiting 30 days for a rescue mission, could walk entirely around the Moon. It’s certainly a sense-of-wonder idea, but on this reading, I spent too much time thinking about the realistic problems Patricia Jay Mulligan faced. The story is moving because of Patricia’s will to live, and her imagined conversation with her sister, Karen. Patricia only has a spacesuit and enough extra equipment to keep it going for 30 days. Landis tries to address all our objections to realism, but this time the story was just too unbelievable.

“A Walk in the Sun” is well-liked. The story first appeared in Asimov’s Science Fiction (October, 1991). It won a Hugo and came in first in a Locus annual Readers’ poll. It’s often reprinted. I don’t mean to pick on it, but it does serve as a useful example of when science fiction goes too far.

Now, going too far is relative. Science fiction explores a limited number of themes, and new writers often take an old theme and push it a bit further. While reading “A Walk in the Sun,” I thought of Have Spacesuit-Will Travel, where Kip and Peewee make a dash across the Moon’s surface only in spacesuits. It’s quite dramatic and realistic. At least, it’s always been realistic to me. Heinlein worked with a team designing pressure suits during WWII, and he wrote two books in which spacesuits were a significant part of the story. The other being Starship Troopers.

Have Spacesuit-Will Travel was first serialized in the August 1958 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. By 1958, real spacesuits were being designed and tested. I feel the science fiction from the 1950s tried much harder to stick to realistic speculation because writers knew manned rocket travel was just a few years off, and travel to the Moon wasn’t much farther.

However, Heinlein took science fiction too far in Have Spacesuit-Will Travel. By the end of the story, Kip and Peewee traveled to the Lesser Magellanic Clouds. Even though I dearly love Have Spacesuit-Will Travel and have reread it more than any other book, I do know that Heinlein was satirizing science fiction in it.

In one of the comments on this discussion of “A Walk in the Sun,” Frank Policastro mentioned H. B. Fyfe’s “Moonwalk” as a more realistic story. (Space Science Fiction, November 1952.)

I loaded that issue on my iPad and read it. “Moonwalk” was indeed a much more realistic story about an astronaut walking across the lunar surface. I wondered if Heinlein had read it. Here was a case of science fiction not going too far. The story is about the first major scientific base on the Moon near the crater Archimedes. The base houses fifty people. It has two tractors that explore the surrounding area. They lose contact with Tractor Two, which was heading towards the crater Plato, and aren’t sure what to do. Radio is limited to line-of-sight. They figured something bad could have happened, or the tractor had gone behind the wall of a crater. They decide to wait.

However, Tractor Two has been destroyed in a landslide, but one astronaut, Hansen, has been thrown free. He has the air tanks of his suit, and one large oxygen tank from the tractor. Hansen decides to start walking back towards base, hundreds of miles away, figuring base will eventually assume something is wrong and send out Tractor One to rescue him.

It’s interesting to compare the descriptions of walking across the Moon by Fyfe, Heinlein, and Landis. Two writers were speculating, and one had the accounts of twelve American astronauts who walked on the Moon.

When I was younger, I enjoyed science fiction stories that went too far. In fact, the further out the better. Now that I’m older, I prefer science fiction that stays close to what might be real. This time around, I preferred “Moonwalk.” It was a basic adventure story, but I enjoyed how Fyfe imagined what it would be like working on the Moon. While researching “Moonwalk” on ISFDB.org, I came across an Ace Double.

“Moonwalk” was anthologized in Men on the Moon. I’m looking forward to reading it, but I started reading City on the Moon by Murray Leinster first. I haven’t been in the mood to read science fiction for months. I just got burned out. However, I’m enjoying all these 1950s stories about early explorers of the Moon. I’m enjoying them because they don’t go too far.

Except for odd alternative-history stories, we don’t get science fiction about early exploration of the Moon. We get a fair amount of science fiction about established lunar colonies, but for the most part, I think they gone too far. I believe establishing bases on the Moon will be extremely difficult, so there’s plenty of room for speculative fiction. Establishing self-sufficient lunar colonies will be next to impossible. Science fiction has seldom explored that territory. Most science fiction today about the Moon leaps too far ahead. I want to read the nitty-gritty of building the first bases and what it would take to make permanent colonies.

I think I’ll dig into the past and see how science fiction writers handled the subject who stayed close to reality. If you know of any, please let me know.

JWH

FUTURES PAST 1930 – A Science Fiction Yearbook

Jim Emerson has finally reached the nineteen thirties.

Futures Past 1930 is now available.

Back in the 1990s, I subscribed to a fanzine called Futures Past, written and published by Jim Emerson. Each issue covered one year of science fiction history, beginning with 1926. Unfortunately, the fanzine died after 1929. Then, a few years ago, as Emerson approached retirement, he decided to resurrect his project. Instead of publishing another issue of the fanzine covering 1930, he went back to 1926 and expanded it into a book (available in softbound, hardbound, and PDF formats). He has since expanded and republished 1927, 1928, and 1929 as books, too. See my reviews of 1926 & 1927, 1928, and 1929. (You can get 1926 as a free PDF as a sample of the series. However, it’s the shortest of the volumes, and doesn’t fully convey the potential of the series that we now see in volume 5, 1930. See the end of this essay for a comparison of all the table of contents.)

In other words, I’ve been waiting three decades for Jim Emerson to get to 1930.

If you study the table of contents above, you’ll see how the first 119 pages are devoted to 1930. For each story published in those magazines listed, Jim gives a brief description of the plot. He does the same for the books published that year. I’ve got to say, I hope in a hundred years, the science fiction of our day won’t sound as ridiculous. Although it’s big fun to laugh at these plot synopses, they also reveal something more serious: the mindset of readers. This is how science fiction people thought in 1930.

Reading these plot summaries is also a brilliant way to understand the evolution of science fiction. Here’s a sample covering stories from the October and November issues of Amazing Stories.

Since Astounding emerged as a competitor to Amazing, I thought I’d let you read a sample of what its stories were about.

1930 is the largest volume of Futures Past yet, at 236 pages. That’s about a hundred pages more than he devoted to 1926. 1930 was a pivotal year in the history of science fiction. Astounding Stories of Super-Science began publication with the January 1930 issue. Jim devotes 47 pages to the legacy of Astounding/Analog.

Beginning in the “Other Worlds” section of the book, Emerson strays away from 1930, both before and after. Not only does he chronicle the backstory of pulp publications and publishers that lead up to Astounding, but Emerson tracks the magazine’s history into the Analog days. I assume this means each volume of Futures Past will provide us with the complete history of every new SF magazine as they emerge.

Jim Emerson follows the footsteps of Sam Moskowitz and Mike Ashley, becoming another historian of the genre. I hope he lives long enough to cover the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s, my favorite decades of the genre. Now that Jim is retired, he has promised to produce new volumes more quickly.

The unexpected bonus of this issue is Emerson’s history of dime novels and boys’ books titled “The Edisonade: Dynamo of American Imagination.” It chronicles how technology inspired proto-science fiction in the 19th century, and follows it into the 20th and 21st centuries, covering the Tom Swift books. I have read brief histories of all the publications that Emerson covers before, but this is the most detailed account I’ve read. This section, at 134 pages, could be a book itself.

I’m sure I’ve seen the term Edisonade before, but I don’t recall it now. I assume it has the same implication as Robinsonade for Robinson Crusoe, but was inspired by Thomas Edison. The Science Fiction Encyclopedia has an extensive entry for Edisonade. Wikipedia has a much shorter entry. Google Scholar offers several tempting citations, but they aren’t available to read. As far as I can tell, Emerson’s essay is the most extensive on the subject.

There’s a tremendous amount of reading in this volume. I can’t imagine how Jim could be so organized to research and write it. I’m sure it wouldn’t be possible without the internet.

I’ve always wanted to know what kids in the 19th and early 20th century thought about reading these books and magazines. Jim does have a section on fanzines, but 1930 was their starting year. Reading this section on Edisonades helps me to imagine what growing up back then might have been like. I wonder if I could find copies of these publications to see if they had letters from readers.

Have you ever read a novel or biography from the 19th century that mentions dime novels or boys’ books?

If you love science fiction, there’s much to contemplate in Futures Past 1930. Nowadays, young science fiction readers find SF from the 1950s as weird and antiquated. When I discovered science fiction in the 1960s, I thought stories from the 1920s and 1930s were painfully dated. These Edisonade stories are decades older. The DNA of SF concepts is a strange genealogy to track. It’s very psychologically revealing to us lovers of the genre.

Jim, I can’t wait for your take on 1931.

Table of Contents Comparison 1926-1930

James Wallace Harris, 1/17/26

How Much Science Fiction Should I Collect and Read Before I Die?

I accomplished a task last night that I’ve been hoping to finish for months. It made me exceedingly happy. My goal was to create a digital library of all my scanned pulp and digest science fiction magazines so they could be accessed from any of my computer devices. I have three computers (Windows, Mac, Linux), four tablets (two iOS, two Android), and an iPhone.

Last year, I bought a UGreen DXP2800 NAS. NAS stands for network-attached storage. Think of it as a big hard drive that all your computers can access. Over the years, I’ve collected scanned copies of nearly every science fiction magazine published in the 20th century. The Pulp Magazine Archive at the Internet Archive is a great place to search for them, but there are many others on the net. When I was young, I wanted to collect pulp magazines, but it’s not very practical unless you want to fill every room of your house with old magazines. I’ve known people who have. Even collecting digital copies is a pain because collecting them eventually overwhelms the latest big disk you’ve bought.

I have a librarian gene. I worked for six years in the periodicals department of a university library in my twenties. Pictured above is just the top portion of my magazine directory on the NAS. Here’s how I see the same directory with the YACReader Library:

Here’s what it looks like when I select a year.

YACReader is by far the best CBR/CBZ/PDF reader I’ve found. And combining it with the YACReader Library is by far the easiest way to get pulp magazines on my tablets.

I can sit at any of my computers and, within seconds, look up any magazine. My previous ease-of-use success was putting all my magazines on a microSD card and loading it onto my Android tablet.

This new method is great when I’m researching an essay for this blog. I often use ISFDB.org or Wikipedia to look up a detail about an old story, and it will mention a magazine. Or I can be in my La-Z-Boy using a tablet and find a story to read. I can even be on my phone and look up a detail. YACReader runs on all my devices. YACReader users can access files via several networking methods or from several major cloud providers. However, there is also the YACReader Library. On a single-user machine, it’s just a nice graphical interface for looking at magazine covers. However, it offers a port for remote clients.

I wanted to put the YACReaderLibrary Server on my UGreen NAS, but after weeks of agonizing over how to set it up with Docker, I gave up. (I don’t know Docker or Linux well enough.) YACReader and the YACReader Library were a breeze to install on a Mac. Since I leave my Mac on all the time, I decided it was just simpler to install YACReaderLibrary on my Mac. Everything worked perfectly. I quickly went through all my devices, making sure they could access my magazine library — and I could.

You know that old saying, “Be careful what you wish for?” I woke up this morning anxious to play with my new system, and a revelation came to me. I had created the perfect system for reading, researching, and writing about 20th-century science fiction, but at 74, do I still need all that science fiction?

I could just pig out on sci-fi. The best analogy I can think of is to picture yourself in a beautiful bakery, looking at all the cases of cookies, cakes, and pies. You’d want to eat everything. And you might be willing to spend every bill in your wallet. But how many sweets should you actually take home? How many should you eat each day? I know my younger self could have spent 24/7 inside my new library.

This morning, I feel like Henry Bemis, when he was organizing piles of books he planned to read for each month of the rest of his life. I have enough science fiction for every minute I have left to live.

However, if we labeled reading science fiction on a pyramid diagram of healthy reading, where would it sit? Would it be an essential life-affirming activity shown as a large solid base, ot would it be an occasional sweet, illustrated as a tiny tip at the top of the pyramid?

When I watch the news, it makes me feel like withdrawing from the world to read science fiction and watch the old TV shows I’ve collected on my Jellyfin server. I confess, I’ve spent most of my life escaping into fiction — either by reading or watching. That troubles me. In old age, I wish I had been more active in my youth, when I had the energy. I wish I had created things, rather than consuming them. It’s too late to change my spots now.

Science fiction was my artificial reality.

Science fiction, as a genre, began one hundred years ago when Hugo Gernsback published the April 1926 issue of Amazing Stories. There is an alternate reality in these magazines that I prefer over actual reality. I get a big kick out of having this reality at my fingertips. My computers are like a time machine; I can jump to any location in its space and time.

I’ve collected enough. Now that I’m old, and real reality presses in, I mostly read about here and now. My fiction addiction is wearing off. But I can’t give it up completely. It’s strange, but there are moments during the day when I just dip into an old science fiction magazine for a few minutes, and my science fiction craving is satiated.

James Wallace Harris, 1/11/26

How Unique A Reader Are You?

This morning, I read an email from a discussion group that mentioned Fitz-James O’Brien (1826-1862). You can sample his fiction at Project Gutenberg.

One member posted a link to a review of a new three-volume collection of his stories at The New York Review of Books. The review implied that O’Brien is little known, but several folks in the group quickly claimed they knew who he was. But that’s logical, our group is devoted to fiction in old magazines. I’ve even read some of O’Brien’s stories because they show up in science fiction anthologies, and I collect those. (See my post on 19th Century Science Fiction Short Stories.)

But this got me to thinking. How many people would know who Fitz-James O’Brien and read any of his stories? Then I asked myself, how many people read short stories? And of those, how many read old short stories? It’s one thing to read the short story in the latest issue of The New Yorker, and it’s another thing to read short stories originally published in the 19th century. Yes, some people still read Edgar Allan Poe, but how many outside of school?

I’ve always been a fan of science fiction magazines. When I was young, some of the top titles had over 100,000 subscribers. Over my lifetime, I’ve watched their subscriber base dwindle to well below 10,000.

It appears the three-volume Collective Speculative Works by Fitz-James O’Brien will be limited to 300 copies. Does that mean the publisher thinks fewer than 300 people in the world are interested in reading O’Brien’s stories? Or that some kind of marketable ploy? I don’t know. 300 is 0.0000036% of the world’s population. That’s one tiny subculture!

But all of this does make me curious about statistics on reading. I found “US Book Reading Statistics (National Survey 2025)“. It summarized its key findings:

  • Almost half of the respondents haven’t read any books in over a year: 48.5%
  • Print books were the most read books: 35.4%
  • The 65+ age group recorded the highest population of print book readers: 45.1%
  • The 45-54 age group contains the highest population of non-readers: 60.9%
  • Males recorded a slightly higher population of non-readers compared to females: 51.4%

The article reported that the Pew Research Center found that 64% of Americans read at least one book in the previous year. That’s a lot more than I expected, and it disagrees with their own poll.

This suggests there are many kinds of readers, and that made me speculate about possible names to give different types of readers. I’m not very good at creating fun labels, but here’s my lame attempt.

  • Non-readers (0 books per year)
  • Casual readers (1-11 books per year)
  • Steady readers (read a book a month)
  • Bookworms (read a book a week)
  • Super Bookworms (read two or more books a week)

This doesn’t say anything about the kinds of books they read. Someone who reads over a hundred books a year might never encounter the name Fitz-James O’Brien. In one of my older essays, I speculated that the average reader could not list more than one hundred titles from novels from the 19th century. And I listed the hundred I thought would be the most common. I doubt most people would come even close to recalling one hundred titles from the 19th century.

Outside of people I know in my discussion groups that specialize in old fiction, I doubt I have ever met anyone in my life who has read a story by Fitz-James O’Brien.

What possible name could we give to people who do? Bookworm is the tag that most people give to obsessive readers. But for every 1,000 bookworms, is there even one who reads old short stories from the 19th century? I know a fair number of people like me who love science fiction short stories from the 20th century, and I also know a smaller group who love short stories published in pulp magazines (mainly from 1900 to 1950). But how many people are we talking about? I asked CoPilot, and it estimates that the number is below 20,000 for people who read and collect old pulp fiction. That’s .0059% of the current U.S. population.

Would the word aficionado apply here? Here are some other words that CoPilot helped me find. Maybe we could use each for a different type of reader.

  • Aficionado
  • Enthusiast
  • Devotee
  • Connoisseur
  • Curator
  • Archivist
  • Bibliophile
  • Esotericist
  • Antiquarian
  • Obscurist
  • Archaeologist

We could use all these words to describe someone who would buy Collective Speculative Works by Fitz-James O’Brien.

At one time, I would have ordered this set. However, I’ve now reached an age where I’m trying to get rid of books rather than collect. But that set does call to me. Actually, what I would really like is digital scans of the periodicals where his stories were first published. I’ve collected scans of most science fiction magazines from the 20th century, but have next to nothing from the 19th century on my hard drive.

How many people are like me who love reading old magazines?

I’m sure it’s less than .006% of the population. What nickname would you give to such people? My wife would probably say, “A nut.”

James Wallace Harris, 12/31/25

Is the Hugo Award a Good Predictor of Long Term Success for a Science Fiction Novel?

Whitney, over at the YouTube channel Secret Sauce of Storycraft, conducted a poll of her viewers. She asked them to post a list of their Top Ten Hugo award-winning novels. She tallied the totals for all the titles, giving ten points for a #1 placement, nine points for #2, and so on down to one point for tenth place. She announced the results in this video. (The totals were given in a spreadsheet – see below.) This video lists the Top 20 vote getters, and Whitney lists her own Top 20.

Here is the top portion of her pdf results to give you an idea of the most popular Hugo novels with her voters. She had 194 people vote. 45 ranked Dune #1 (45 x 10). Follow the link above to see the entire .pdf.

Throughout 2025, Whitney has been reviewing the novels that won the Hugo. She had a video for each decade. They are worth viewing for a longer review of each book.

As I watched each video, I thought about my memories of these books. Some I first read over sixty years ago. Some I’ve reread since. Some titles burn bright in my memory, but for other books, I only have murky impressions.

Jonathan at Words in Time also did a video retrospective review of all the Hugo award-winning novels. I guess this is an obvious theme for a YouTube video. Jonathan presented his results in a ranking video.

And there are other YouTubers who have also reviewed the novels that won the Hugo awards. Watching all these videos has made me think about how I remember these books. Looking at Wikipedia’s list of winners of the Hugo Award for novel, I got CoPilot to create this list:

01 – (1953) – THE DEMOLISHED MAN by Alfred Bester
02 – (1955) – THEY’D RATHER BE RIGHT by Mark Clifton & Frank Riley*
03 – (1956) – DOUBLE STAR by Robert A. Heinlein
04 – (1958) – THE BIG TIME by Fritz Leiber
05 – (1959) – A CASE OF CONSCIENCE by James Blish
06 – (1960) – STARSHIP TROOPERS by Robert A. Heinlein
07 – (1961) – A CANTICLE FOR LEIBOWITZ by Walter M. Miller, Jr.
08 – (1962) – STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND by Robert A. Heinlein
09 – (1963) – THE MAN IN THE HIGH CASTLE by Philip K. Dick
10 – (1964) – HERE GATHER THE STARS (WAY STATION) by Clifford D. Simak
11 – (1965) – THE WANDERER by Fritz Leiber
12 – (1966) – DUNE by Frank Herbert
13 – (1966) – …AND CALL ME CONRAD (THIS IMMORTAL) by Roger Zelazny
14 – (1967) – THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS by Robert A. Heinlein
15 – (1968) – LORD OF LIGHT by Roger Zelazny
16 – (1969) – STAND ON ZANZIBAR by John Brunner
17 – (1970) – THE LEFT HAND OF DARKNESS by Ursula K. Le Guin
18 – (1971) – RINGWORLD by Larry Niven
19 – (1972) – TO YOUR SCATTERED BODIES GO by Philip José Farmer
20 – (1973) – THE GODS THEMSELVES by Isaac Asimov*
21 – (1974) – RENDEZVOUS WITH RAMA by Arthur C. Clarke
22 – (1975) – THE DISPOSSESSED by Ursula K. Le Guin
23 – (1976) – THE FOREVER WAR by Joe Haldeman
24 – (1977) – WHERE LATE THE SWEET BIRDS SANG by Kate Wilhelm
25 – (1978) – GATEWAY by Frederik Pohl
26 – (1979) – DREAMSNAKE by Vonda N. McIntyre*
27 – (1980) – THE FOUNTAINS OF PARADISE by Arthur C. Clarke
28 – (1981) – THE SNOW QUEEN by Joan D. Vinge*
29 – (1982) – DOWNBELOW STATION by C. J. Cherryh*
30 – (1983) – FOUNDATION’S EDGE by Isaac Asimov*
31 – (1984) – STARTIDE RISING by David Brin
32 – (1985) – NEUROMANCER by William Gibson
33 – (1986) – ENDER’S GAME by Orson Scott Card
34 – (1987) – SPEAKER FOR THE DEAD by Orson Scott Card
35 – (1988) – THE UPLIFT WAR by David Brin
36 – (1989) – CYTEEN by C. J. Cherryh*
37 – (1990) – HYPERION by Dan Simmons
38 – (1991) – THE VOR GAME by Lois McMaster Bujold*
39 – (1992) – BARRAYAR by Lois McMaster Bujold*
40 – (1993) – A FIRE UPON THE DEEP by Vernor Vinge
41 – (1993) – DOOMSDAY BOOK by Connie Willis
42 – (1994) – GREEN MARS by Kim Stanley Robinson*
43 – (1995) – MIRROR DANCE by Lois McMaster Bujold*
44 – (1996) – THE DIAMOND AGE by Neal Stephenson*
45 – (1997) – BLUE MARS by Kim Stanley Robinson*
46 – (1998) – FOREVER PEACE by Joe Haldeman
47 – (1999) – TO SAY NOTHING OF THE DOG by Connie Willis
48 – (2000) – A DEEPNESS IN THE SKY by Vernor Vinge
49 – (2001) – HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE by J. K. Rowling
50 – (2002) – AMERICAN GODS by Neil Gaiman
51 – (2003) – HOMINIDS by Robert J. Sawyer*
52 – (2004) – PALADIN OF SOULS by Lois McMaster Bujold*
53 – (2005) – JONATHAN STRANGE & MR NORRELL by Susanna Clarke
54 – (2006) – SPIN by Robert Charles Wilson
55 – (2007) – RAINBOWS END by Vernor Vinge*
56 – (2008) – THE YIDDISH POLICEMEN’S UNION by Michael Chabon
57 – (2009) – THE GRAVEYARD BOOK by Neil Gaiman*
58 – (2010) – THE WINDUP GIRL by Paolo Bacigalupi
59 – (2010) – THE CITY & THE CITY by China Miéville
60 – (2011) – BLACKOUT/ALL CLEAR by Connie Willis*
61 – (2012) – AMONG OTHERS by Jo Walton
62 – (2013) – REDSHIRTS by John Scalzi
63 – (2014) – ANCILLARY JUSTICE by Ann Leckie
64 – (2015) – THE THREE-BODY PROBLEM by Cixin Liu
65 – (2016) – THE FIFTH SEASON by N. K. Jemisin*
66 – (2017) – THE OBELISK GATE by N. K. Jemisin*
67 – (2018) – THE STONE SKY by N. K. Jemisin*
68 – (2019) – THE CALCULATING STARS by Mary Robinette Kowal
69 – (2020) – A MEMORY CALLED EMPIRE by Arkady Martine*
70 – (2021) – NETWORK EFFECT by Martha Wells*
71 – (2022) – A DESOLATION CALLED PEACE by Arkady Martine*
72 – (2023) – NETTLE & BONE by T. Kingfisher*
73 – (2024) – SOME DESPERATE GLORY by Emily Tesh*
74 – (2025) – THE TAINTED CUP by Robert Jackson Bennett*

I’ve starred (*) the 28 novels I haven’t read. I own many of them, but for some reason, I have never gotten around to reading them.

Now that I’m 74, my feelings about science fiction are different from when I was 13, or 33, or even 63.

Two novels that are at the top of most people’s lists are Dune and Hyperion. I’ve read Dune twice and Hyperion three times. They were dazzling novels each time I read them. However, old me, at 74, does not find them very appealing. I would have been hard-pressed to send Whitney my Top 10 list.

But is it fair to judge a novel by how you feel in old age? It occurs to me I could make a Top 10 list based on the memories of my first reading of each book.

Jim’s Top Ten Hugo Award Winning Books Based On Initial Impact

  1. Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
  2. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein
  3. Starship Troopers by Robert A. Heinlein
  4. Hyperion by Dan Simmons
  5. Stand on Zanzibar by John Brunner
  6. The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick
  7. Among Others by Jo Walton
  8. The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi
  9. The Doomsday Book by Connie Willis
  10. Way Station by Clifford D. Simak

Looking at that list, I think about all the reasons why I wouldn’t recommend some of those novels now. I have a love-hate relationship with Stranger in a Strange Land. At age 13, that novel blew me away in 1964. I’ve reread it several times over my lifetime, but with each rereading, I’m horrified by some scenes in it. Heinlein reminds me of Donald Trump in that his protagonists are often unforgiving of people who offend them.

But on the other hand, Stranger is an incredibly ambitious work of science fiction from 1961. In fact, few books on the complete Hugo list even try to be as ambitious. Dune is one. That’s why it continues to stand out. Stand on Zanzibar was probably too ambitious for most readers.

I see a common quality in the books in my first impression list. They were different from anything else at the time. And that’s true for most novels that win a Hugo. Although that quality might not be true in recent decades. People seem to like series, which I find disappointing. Connie Willis has three Hugos for essentially the same idea, although each is told in a different style.

But what books would I put on my Top Ten list today, at age 74? Thinking about that troubles me. My gut instinct would be to pick novels I felt meant something to my whole life, not just the first time I read them. In that regard, science fiction doesn’t hold up.

To complicate this instinct is the feeling that I would need to reread these books to decide if they merit a lifetime award or recognition. It took me a lifetime to read them, so that won’t happen.

I would pick Among Others by Jo Walton because it’s about being a science fiction fan. It’s certainly something that relates to my entire life. I need to reread Way Station, but I have a vague memory that it said something philosophical I would agree with in old age. Finally, I would consider The Man in the High Castle because it could resonate with my current philosophical outlook, but I’d need to give it another reading.

I’m not sure if any of the other 71 titles have true lasting literary value, at least to me. Not in the sense that Nineteen Eighty-Four or Earth Abides does. Or even The Time Machine and The War of the Worlds.

Science fiction dazzles when it’s new, and its readers are young. To be fair, though, it’s true of all forms of fiction.

The sad reality is that most science fiction books can’t go the distance.

If you reread the list above of those 74 novels, consider how many you have read. How many are unknown titles to you? Many of these novels are often discussed by YouTubers. That keeps them alive. YouTube is great for old science fiction books. But if you pay attention, those same YouTubers are shooting down many famous titles.

The act of reviewing Hugo winners promotes some books and causes others to be forgotten. I feel like I’m watching younger generations dismiss books beloved by older generations. It’s not just old guys like me giving up on them.

James Wallace Harris, 12/29/25

What Would You Talk About With An AI Chatbot Trained on the Works By and About Philip K. Dick?

I’ve had this fantasy for the last few years, since the beginning of the AI boom, of creating a Philip K. Dick chatbot. I envision finding a local LLM with a huge upload capacity. Currently, Claude allows for up to 30 megabytes in a maximum of 20 files. That’s not nearly enough for my fantasy.

According to Wikipedia, Dick wrote 45 novels and 121 short stories. I’d want to include all of those, plus all the letters I could find. I currently have a five-volume set of his letters, but unpublished letters might be available. I’d also include all the biographies on PKD, as well as every interview I could find. Then I would track down every review and critical work. Also, add every photo I could find of him and those of anyone he knew. I’d also want to include books that we know PKD read or studied. And the memoirs of his wives or the people who knew Dick. Finally, I’d include any Wikipedia entry on topics Phil liked to discuss. That could easily end up being over a thousand files, and who knows how much disc space they would take up.

Here’s the thing. I run into a roadblock with my fantasy. When I begin to fantasize about chatting with this artificial Phil, I have doubts about the project. I know AI Phil can not be trusted to say the same things that human Phil would have said. But theoretically, this AI chatbot should be an expert on PKD.

I think I would need to rename this AI. I’d call it Jack Isidore. That’s the protagonist of my favorite PKD novel, Confessions of a Crap Artist. Phil created Jack, so I would use Jack to recreate Phil, to be the ultimate scholar on PKD.

To test Jack’s ability, I would give the AI this prompt:

Write a 200,000-word biography of Philip K. Dick. Tell his story day by day as much as possible working in as much verifiable details as possible. Where you don’t have good validation of source material, but there is good reason to speculate, give us the most reasonable assumption and state why. Describe the writing of each of his work and why he wrote them. Relate any of PKD’s life experiences that inspired his fiction. Do not hallucinate.

I’ve read several biographies on PKD, and a handful of memoirs by wives and friends. I’m curious if I will be able to properly judge Jack’s biography of PKD. Would it be more insightful than any biography written by a human? Would we learn anything about Phil that we didn’t know, but feel might be an undiscovered truth about him?

Mostly, I’ve wanted a PKD chatbot to discuss Phil’s stories. Dick’s books are like comfort food for me. I read them when I’m tired of dealing with reality. They are wildly creative, and I often wonder what PKD is implying in his stories. Was he just making shit up, or were creations commentary on experiences in his life? Was he being silly or serious?

Philip K. Dick was a guy I wish I had known. Talking with him would be fascinating. There’s always a chance that an AI chatbot would be a decent substitute. It would be fun to try.

It would also be fun to say, “Jack, tell me a new PKD story.”

James Wallace Harris, 12/28/25

WHAT WE CAN KNOW by Ian McEwan

You might be wondering if the acclaimed literary writer Ian McEwan, whose most famous novel is Atonement, has become a science fiction writer. His last novel, Machines Like Me, was about a robot. His new novel, What We Can Know, is set in the year 2119. Many reviewers suggest that What We Can Know is about life after climate change. I don’t think it is, nor do I think it’s a science fiction novel. If anything, What We Can Know is a literary mystery, one that I enjoyed reading a great deal.

I think it’s perfectly fine to categorize this novel as science fiction, but many science fiction fans will be disappointed if they read it. Some reviewers call the novel dystopian. That’s bogus, too. Sure, between our times and 2119, there were nuclear wars, and worldwide flooding has left Britain an archipelago of islands. But those are inconsequential to the story.

The plot of What We Can Know is simple. Tom Metcalfe, an academic and writer living in England in 2119, is writing a nonfiction book about a lost poem that was read at a party in 2014. Metcalfe wants to write a whole history of this poem, but he can’t find a copy. He knows a fair amount about “A Corona for Vivien” because of biographical research on all the people at the party. Wikipedia defines a corona as:

A crown of sonnets or sonnet corona is a sequence of sonnets, usually addressed to one person, and/or concerned with a single theme. Each of the sonnets explores one aspect of the theme, and is linked to the preceding and succeeding sonnets by repeating the final line of the preceding sonnet as its first line. The first line of the first sonnet is repeated as the final line of the final sonnet, thereby bringing the sequence to a close.

Hell, I’d love to read such a poem too.

“A Corona for Vivien” has been missing for over one hundred years. Finding it would be a triumph for Tom’s career and make his book a bestseller.

Notice that Tom doesn’t worry about the condition of the world after drastic climate change and nuclear wars. He’s obsessed with Francis Blundy, the poet, and his wife Vivien. Like many literary scholars, he romanticises the time period of his study, the 2010s. For years, Tom has followed every clue he could find about the dinner party where the poem was read and the guests who heard the only known reading of the poem.

What We Can Know reminds me of Possession by A. S. Byatt and The French Lieutenant’s Woman by John Fowles. McEwan’s novel isn’t as complex or as delicious as those two, but it does feel like historiographic metafiction.

One of the fun aspects of this novel is that it’s about people from the future reflecting on our times. Science fiction is usually about reflecting on future people. This gives McIwan a chance to comment on us. Some of that commentary is satire, but with a deft light touch. People in Tom’s time called the changes caused by climate change the derangement. They marvel at our excesses and lack of regard for the future. But on the other hand, there are people like Tom who see us living through glory days.

What We Can Know also reminds me of the recent biography Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath by Heather Clark. I haven’t read it, but my friend Mike has been reading it for weeks and he’s been telling me about it. It’s about a literary circle of egocentric poets. Francis Blundy and his friends are also a famous literary circle of poets and writers with tremendous egos.

I loved listening to What We Can Know. Yes, it did ocassionally thrill my science fiction bent with a few asides, but it mainly entertained because it was about a literary circle. I love reading about The Beats, The Bloomsbury Group, writers of The Lost Generation, The Transcendentalists, the German Romantics, and other literary groups.

Now, if that’s your cup of tea, then get the book. But if you’re a science fiction fan who enjoys a well-imagined future, I think you will be disappointed. This novel isn’t about a post-apocalyptic world but poets and biographers.

James Wallace Harris, 10/30/25

A Science Fiction Research Library on a microSD Card

In the 1960s, we often thought about what life would be like in the 21st century. We’d speculated about fantastic inventions. One that frequently came up was having the Library of Congress in a device we could hold in our hands. In a way, a smartphone is that device. However, we didn’t anticipate networking. We just imagined all the works in the Library of Congress copied onto a small device.

We’re close to having that invention now. It’s not like how we imagined. We don’t think about the future as much today as we did back in the 1960s. Change is happening so fast that every day seems like the future. However, can we speculate what a fantastic invention we might have in another sixty years?

I did something fun the other day, something even science fictional. I put all my scanned science fiction magazines and books on a teeny-tiny 1 TB microSD card and loaded it into my old Amazon Fire 10 HD tablet. That tiny library contains 7,266 magazines and fanzines, as well as 3,570 fiction and nonfiction books. I’ve assembled this collection from the internet. Many items can be found on the Internet Archive or the Luminist Archives. Although some come from DVD-R disc collections I bought on eBay.

The Internet is a gigantically large library itself, but not one that’s always easy to use. When I was young, I worked in libraries. I always loved special collections. Special collections can contain material of any type, but they often house personal libraries donated by famous people. These donated libraries frequently focus on a single subject or type of work that’s been collected over a lifetime. I have a lifetime love for science fiction and science fiction magazines.

My microSD card is a special collection on a tiny chip that, back in the 1960s, we would have considered a marvel of the future. They are not so special today. I keep several in an old orange plastic pill bottle.

For fifteen years, I’ve collected digital copies of books and magazines on Dropbox. I had almost filled my two terabytes of cloud storage when I decided to buy a NAS. NAS stands for network-attached storage. I purchased a Ugreen DXP2800 and two Seagate 12 TB drives, which I mirrored. Now my digital library can expand to six times its previous size.

There is a major problem with leaving the cloud. If something bad happened to my DXP2800, such as the house burning down, my library and years of work would disappear. I have copies on external drives, but I need to find a way to keep regular copies off-site. My first thought was to take an external drive to a friend’s house, but then I remembered the microSD card.

Years ago, I bought a 128 GB card (pictured above) to test with my Amazon Fire 10 HD. That didn’t work out well because the card was too small, and larger capacity cards were too expensive.

Up till now, I have read my digital library with an iPad Mini, accessing my files from Dropbox. It didn’t matter that my old iPad only had 64 GB of storage. Each time I downloaded a magazine, it took about 30 seconds.

When I first considered backing up to a microSD, I checked current prices, and a 1 TB card was $67. That’s when I got the idea to see if I could copy my science fiction library onto a single 1 TB microSD. Copying just science fiction-related magazines, fanzines, and books, I used up just 650 GB.

I loaded that microSD into my Amazon Fire HD 10 and ran CDisplayEX. It saw the files. It even displayed them beautifully. And it was fast. Pulp magazines loaded instantly. Here’s the directory page for Astounding Science-Fiction 1942.

I realized I held in my hands what I had dreamed about sixty years ago. I had the ultimate pulp magazine reading machine. The tablet also allowed me access to thousands of Kindle books and Audible audiobooks. It wasn’t The Library of Congress in my hands, but it was amazing. I could kick back in my La-Z-Boy and browse through decades of magazines. That’s quite cool.

This got me thinking. How can I best use this resource? How can I integrate it into my work routines? Normally, as I create posts for this blog, I read and think in my La-Z-Boy, but I get up and write at my computer.

Being the lazy person that I am, I’ve long wanted to write anywhere and at any time. I spend a lot of time with my eyes closed, thinking. I compose essays in my head, but they are vaguely formed. After a point, the pressure of keeping all those ideas in my head gets too great, and I have to jump up and start writing.

I’ve always wanted to read, think, and write simultaneously. I’m now wondering if I can combine my new reading machine with a note-taking app and a word processor? Combining CDisplayEX with Obsidian and Jetpack goes a long way towards that idea. It occurs to me there’s more needed.

A large library isn’t useful without a card catalog. Before computers, this was called a card catalog because it was contained in drawers of index cards. However, special collections usually had their own index. Most people use Google and the Internet as their card catalog, but it is becoming more problematic every day.

I depend on two indexes to explore science fiction: Wikipedia and ISFDB.org. For example, here is the ISFDB.org page that indexes the history of the magazine Astounding/Analog. Here is the Wikipedia entry that describes the history of that magazine. And although ISFDB.org will eventually link you to the Internet Archive to read a particular issue, it would be cool if it linked to my copy of the magazine. It is possible to download copies of Wikipedia and ISFDB.org, but it’s not practical to integrate them into my tablet library of science fiction.

Certain things should stay in the cloud. Realistically, that should include the magazines and books. What we didn’t imagine back in the 1960s was a better version of The Library of Congress. Why should everyone own a NAS and build their own special collection?

The only advantage I have for messing with this tablet is speed. If my access to everything on the Internet were instant, would I need any storage at all? No, I wouldn’t. Currently, Internet speeds are fast, but not quite speedy enough. The real speed bump is how everything is organized. It’s finding what you want that’s really slow.

Here’s where AI comes in. I’ve discovered it’s quicker to ask CoPilot to find something than to ask Google. Unfortunately, when CoPilot can’t find what I want, it makes shit up.

You might be wondering by now where this essay is going. At first, I only wanted to describe the delight I found in my science fiction library on a tablet. But along the way, I began to imagine other science-fictional possibilities of taking the idea further.

Writing this essay has made me realize that what I really want to build is an annotated science fiction library. My blog is a disjointed attempt to write an annotated history of science fiction.

Here is my speculation for an awe-inspiring future device. Instead of having a Library of Congress we can hold in our hands, I’d like a handheld device that saves a copy of every artwork that inspires me, with a lifetime of my annotated thoughts about them. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Shakespeare had such a gadget? I wish my parents had left me such memory cubes.

James Wallace Harris, 10/25/25

THE DRAGON IN THE SEA by Frank Herbert

I’m not sure I can recommend The Dragon in the Sea by Frank Herbert, even though I enjoyed reading it. If Herbert had not become famous for Dune, I’m not sure it would be in print today. The story, written in the early days of the Cold War, portrays a future where the United States steals oil from the Soviets using submarine tugboats. Most of the novel takes place in one of these four-man subtugs. The plot feels more like an early political techno thriller than science fiction. It’s the kind of adventure story aimed at male readers that was usually published in men’s magazines in the 1950s. Those old nudie mags ran a lot of fiction.

The Dragon in the Sea is terribly dated on several levels. That’s ignoring the silliness of a submarine towing a giant plastic bag that holds millions of gallons of crude oil. However, the characterization was intriguing. The primary point-of-view character, John Ramsey, is an undercover psychologist studying the captain, who also knows there’s a Soviet sleeper agent aboard. Because the crew suspects the psychologist is the spy, the story is driven by paranoia.

I read The Dragon in the Sea because of a review at Science Fiction and Fantasy Remembrance (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3). Herbert’s novel was titled Under Pressure when it ran as a serial in Astounding Science Fiction (November & December 1955, January 1956). I didn’t want to read another science fiction novel at the time because I had several nonfiction books I was anxious to read. But Brian Collins’ review intrigued me. Collins is one of several bloggers who review old science fiction. His focus is on reviewing stories from science fiction magazines, something I also do. We’re part of an extremely tiny subculture that remembers a rather obscure art form.

The way Collins described the conflict between the four men in the submarine made me think of Rogue Moon by Algis Budrys. Rogue Moon is a compelling read because of the tense conflict between two ego-driven men. However, Rogue Moon is solid science fiction, dramatizing the bizarre consequences of using a matter transmitter to explore an alien artifact that killed every living thing that entered it. In other words, Rogue Moon had more than just the battle of alpha males; it had some heavy-duty sci-fi.

I can feel y’all asking, “Why are you even reviewing this book? You’re damning it with faint praise.” Well, that brings me to the theme of this essay. Why do we choose the science fiction books we read?

Most people buy The Dragon in the Sea because they loved Dune and want to see what else Frank Herbert wrote. That’s one of my main reasons. The Dragon in the Sea is Herbert’s first published novel, so it’s an interesting place to start. Dune was the breakthrough SF novel in the 1960s. How did Herbert get there? I liked The Dragon in the Sea well enough that I now want to read one of Herbert’s novels that he wrote after Dune.

I’m also the kind of science fiction reader who prefers older science fiction, even if it’s dated. It’s not that I dislike current science fiction. I just enjoy the science fiction I grew up with more. Especially, from the era when science fiction books were under 300 pages. I don’t like trilogies and series, or giant novels. I love a standalone story that paints a great science-fictional idea quickly. I read this sentiment fairly frequently online.

I have two other reasons for reading old forgotten science fiction that are less commonly expressed. I love reading old science fiction because I enjoy exploring the history of science fiction. And I love searching for old science fiction I missed in my youth, that might turn out to be a forgotten gem.

The Dragon in the Sea is no lost masterpiece. Brian Collins said he’s never seen a Frank Herbert novel for sale that wasn’t part of the Dune series. I have seen many over the decades, but have never tried reading one before. I’ve read Dune twice but not the sequels. It’s hard to imagine the man who wrote The Dragon in the Sea writing Dune. I will say that Herbert has a flair for drama and dialogue that was uncommon in science fiction in the 1950s. His first novel showed no talent for the kind of sense of wonder that made science fiction famous. To have an overabundance of that talent ten years later is amazing.

Interestingly, Herbert makes religion an essential aspect of his first novel. Religion made Dune epic. Herbert portrays Captain Sparrow in The Dragon in the Sea somewhat like Captain Ahab. The plot has the crew facing death time and again. They must kill or be killed. Captain Sparrow sees God as guiding and protecting them. The other two crewmen, Bonnett and Garcia, have become true believers because Captain Sparrow has always brought them home. Ramsey has a religious upbringing, but is not a believer. Yet, even though he’s a psychologist, Sparrow starts to get to him.

The story kept me reading because of the conflict between the characters and how Ramsey slowly became one with the crew. You end up liking all the men, even when they do unlikable things.

The men are under tremendous pressure. The previous twenty missions have failed. They expect to die unless they can uncover the secrets of the sleeper agent. But how can there be a spy among the three men who have worked together for years and are so dedicated to each other? They all profess to love their wives, but in reality, they love their job, their ship, their captain, and each other.

Now that I’m writing this, I realize how much more I liked this novel. It has many flaws, but I still found it entertaining to read. So did Brian Collins. Like Collins, I struggle to write reviews. He writes about his struggle in a post published after reviewing part 1 and before part 2, Under Pressure. (Remember, the links to all three parts of his review are above.) Collins does a much better job than I of describing the story.

It takes a lot of mental work to pinpoint why you like or dislike something. It’s easy to say, “I hate this” or “I love this,” but those statements are meaningless. You have to say why, and that’s hard, especially when you have to cite the context.

I could list a hundred novels and say, “If you haven’t read these yet, don’t waste your time on The Dragon and the Sea.” It’s not that good. But if you’re an old, jaded science fiction fan and are looking for something that might feel like good old-timey SF, then The Dragon and the Sea might be worth giving a try.

Checking our database, The Dragon in the Sea received five citations, the second most of Herbert’s novels. The citations were from:

James Wallace Harris, 10/6/25

1948: SPACE CADET by Robert A. Heinlein

We often judge old science fiction books by what writers got right about the future. It is equally valuable to understand what they got wrong. In an experiment, disproving a hypothesis is still informative. Robert A. Heinlein was famous in the 1940s for writing a series of science fiction stories he labeled Future History. Heinlein also wrote fourteen young adult novels from 1947 to 1963 that can also be considered another Future History.

I’ve read thousands of science fiction novels and short stories over the past sixty-plus years. I no longer enjoy reading science fiction in the same way I did when I was young. That was when I could forget that I was a reader and immerse myself in the story. Now, when I read science fiction, I’m constantly thinking: What is the writer trying to create, how are they doing it, and why? When I read old science fiction, I think about the year it was written and what the author used as grounds for speculation.

I believe that at one time, Robert A. Heinlein was as brilliant in his speculations as H. G. Wells in his heyday. Space Cadet was written during a particularly stressful time in Heinlein’s life. He had left his second wife, Leslyn, whom he had married in 1932. I do not have the space here to describe how remarkable Leslyn was as a woman in the 1930s. Leslyn had a master’s in philosophy, was politically liberal, and sexually adventurous. Robert and Leslyn had a remarkable fifteen-year relationship, with an enviable social life among highly creative people in Los Angeles. Robert had left Leslyn, waiting for the divorce to allow him to marry his third wife, Virginia (“Ginny”) Gerstenfeld. She became his muse and companion for the rest of his life. (See Robert A. Heinlein: Volume I: Learning Curve, 1907–1948 by William H. Patterson.)

Space Cadet follows four boys, Matt, Tex, Oscar, and Pierre, through a series of episodic adventures as they train in the Interplanetary Patrol. Heinlein was a graduate of the United States Naval Academy and modeled Space Cadet on his training at Annapolis. The story begins on Earth, then moves to a military school in Earth’s orbit. (The boys take leave on a giant space habitat.) Next, the boys are assigned to a rocket searching for a lost exploration vessel in the asteroids. Finally, end up on a rescue mission on Venus. For the most part, the story is a page turner. Each episode combines personal conflicts and learning experiences. Heinlein promotes education, especially in math. Heinlein provides a certain amount of infodumps about space navigation, orbital mechanics, rocket science, space suits, weightlessness, space sickness, and other realistic details involved in exploring space that were usually ignored in science fiction before Heinlein.

The Heinlein juveniles took space exploration seriously, at least by what was known at the time. This was especially true in the early books of the series. However, each book went further away from Earth. Eventually, the series went well beyond anything scientific to explain the methods of transportation used in them. I’ve often felt that Heinlein was focused on the details of realistic space exploration during the late 1940s and early 1950s, but after Sputnik and NASA, Heinlein shifted to making his novels about politics and society. Those later novels might be set in space, but Heinlein no longer concerned himself with the details of rocket science.

Although Heinlein was experiencing the success of his first book being published in 1947, a string of sales to slick magazines, and Hollywood types contacting him about making a movie, he was living in poverty in a tiny trailer. He desperately needed money. Heinlein left California and everyone he knew to hide out in Fort Worth, Texas. He was living in sin with Ginny, his future third wife. They had to keep their relationship secret until the divorce went through with Leslyn. Heinlein felt guilty for abandoning Leslyn, but she had become an uncontrollable alcoholic. Heinlein had met Ginny in Philadelphia while working as a civilian for the war effort. Ginny was a biochemical engineer with math skills who worked well with Heinlein on planning the science in his science fiction. The two of them spent their days in Fort Worth working out the math for the orbital mechanics in Space Cadet. Heinlein’s future depended on this second book for Scribner’s, but he had a difficult time writing it. He claimed that Ginny offered many suggestions that he initially rejected but ultimately used to finish the novel.

In 1948, Heinlein didn’t know his 1947 novel, Rocket Ship Galileo, would be the basis for Destination Moon, the first major science fiction film of the 1950s, and Space Cadet would be connected to Tom Corbett, Space Cadet, a 1950 TV show that influenced later science fiction television. Heinlein had been the star of John W. Campbell’s Astounding Science Fiction in the 1940s. Nor did he have any inclination that his twelve young adult novels for Charles Scribner’s Sons would have such a major impact on readers in the 1950s. In 1947 and 1948, Heinlein was at a low point in his career. He had no idea how big a success his writing would become, or how Ginny would become the love of his life. They believed in a fantastic future of space travel, but they were so poor that they had to sell their belongings to survive.

Heinlein dominated science fiction in the 1950s, like H. G. Wells did in the 1890s. When I reread Heinlein, it’s to see how he changed the course of science fiction. When I was young, I felt Heinlein would one day be considered the Mark Twain of science fiction by the time I got old. That hasn’t happened.

Robert Heinlein’s reputation as a science fiction writer has dropped dramatically over my lifetime. When I was growing up, if two SF fans met, both assumed each other’s favorite author was Heinlein, and they’d argue over who was the next best science fiction writer. Today, many modern readers shun Heinlein, usually for what they believe are Heinlein’s personal views, or because they’ve read one of Heinlein’s later works, and assume all of his books are just as bad. Personally, I dislike all of Heinlein’s books published after The Past Through Tomorrow (1967). I have significant problems with anything he wrote after Starship Troopers (1959) and before he published The Past Through Tomorrow.

Science fiction becomes dated after a few decades, which is the main reason why Heinlein’s fiction is falling out of favor. Only three SF novels from the 19th century are commonly read today: Frankenstein, The Time Machine, and The War of the Worlds. Eventually, I believe fewer than a dozen science fiction novels from the 20th century will be widely read in the 22nd century.

Heinlein will continue to be read until his original fans all die. Then, readers yet to be born will decide if any of his books will be worth reading after that. I’m rereading Heinlein’s books, speculating if they will survive in the future. I started with Heinlein’s first published novel, Rocket Ship Galileo (1947), an essay I already need to revise.

Rereading his second Scribner’s novel, Space Cadet from 1948, it’s easy to dismiss it as a young adult novel for boys. But when you examine it in comparison to science fiction published up until 1948, and consider the philosophical issues it deals with, it’s a standout SF novel.

In judging Heinlein’s long-term prospects, I’ve decided to use H. G. Wells, Aldous Huxley, George Orwell, and George R. Stewart as models, specifically for The Time Machine, The War of the Worlds, Brave New World, Nineteen Eighty-Four, and Earth Abides. Heinlein wanted Starship Troopers, Stranger in a Strange Land, and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress to be the three books by which he would be remembered. Heinlein felt those novels were his most mature works, and which best expressed his views. They are the ones that are still found in bookstores. They are also the Heinlein novels modern readers often dislike.

Heinlein might be right, and those books will be his literary legacy. Heinlein has twenty-nine other books published in his lifetime to consider. I plan to reread nineteen of them as possible works that might be remembered instead. So far, I’ve reread three, and my memory of the others suggests that Heinlein does not have a novel equal to my five models. In terms of ambition and complexity, only Heinlein’s favorite three come close to the five models I’ve chosen in ambition. However, I’m not sure if Heinlein’s philosophical intent in those works will be well-regarded in the future.

I believe there’s another way Heinlein might be remembered. Heinlein will often be discussed in books about science fiction. Heinlein is a significant figure in the evolution of science fiction. For example, in a taxonomy tree showing the evolution of the genre, Starship Troopers will be the main branch for Military SF. Rocket Ship Galileo is situated on a major branch of fiction about the first trip to the Moon. And Space Cadet is a major contribution to exploring the solar system.

In the 21st century, Heinlein is often ignored. Many readers have the prejudice that Heinlein is an unlikable conservative; some even think he’s a fascist and misogynist. But Space Cadet expresses extremely liberal views.

If you read Space Cadet today, it will feel like a simple story for young people that’s quite dated. Readers need to understand events in 1948 to appreciate the novel. Heinlein imagines a need for a world government and an agency to control nuclear weapons. Russia didn’t have the atomic bomb until 1949, but Heinlein was worried about the day when multiple countries had weapons of mass destruction. Throughout the 1940s, Heinlein wrote stories that speculated about how we’d apply atomic energy in peacetime and control nuclear weapons to prevent wars. That’s a heavy topic for fiction found in elementary school libraries.

Heinlein was also concerned with the human race destroying itself. Heinlein believed only one international agency should control nuclear weapons. And if any country violated their policies, their ability to create a nuclear bomb would be targeted with nukes. In an early draft of Space Cadet, Heinlein had Matt, his young protagonist, nuking his hometown. Wisely, Heinlein decided that was too much for a young adult novel and reduced the idea to a bull session between cadets.

To emphasize the importance of this idea, he has the cadets discover evidence that the asteroids are the remains of a planet that blew itself up in an atomic war.

The Interplanetary Patrol is racially integrated. Heinlein makes a point that black males are cadets and officers. The U.S. military integrated in 1948. Heinlein takes this further by emphasizing that intelligent beings on Venus and Mars are equally human, even if they don’t look human. However, human females don’t have equal rights in this story. But Heinlein quickly liberates women in later books in this series. However, even in Space Cadet, the Venusians are a matriarchal society.

Ideas about a space based military from Space Cadet will show up again in Starship Troopers. The novel also has an orbital battle school that prefigures Ender’s Game. And the Interplanetary Patrol will influence several TV shows in the 1950s, which will eventually lead to Star Trek. Of course, Heinlein was inspired by E. E. “Doc” Smith’s Lensman series.

Throughout the novel, Heinlein tosses out ideas that will become part of reality. At the beginning of the story, Matt uses a pocket phone that depends on cell towers. He gets to orbit via a reusable rocket. They are stationed at a geosynchronous orbit. But Heinlein also missed on things, too. In 1948, Heinlein didn’t foresee the impact that computers, networks, and robots would have on our world.

Space Cadet is set in 2075. Heinlein assumes that by then, humanity will have traveled the solar system and settled colonies on the Moon, Venus, Mars, and Ganymede. Heinlein also thought we’d find intelligent life on Venus and Mars, and it once existed on the planet that blew up and became the asteroids. All of Heinlein’s young adult novels have overlapping futures with similar details. That’s why I say they represent another Future History.

Many science fiction writers before 1950, including Ray Bradbury, hoped we’d find Martians and Venusians. I call that kind of thinking pre-NASA science fiction. In the 1960s, when NASA’s probes discovered that those planets were lifeless, I was tremendously disappointed. I still love pre-NASA science fiction. But I have to wonder if younger generations have completely dismissed such stories because of what science has discovered? I must point out that they accept Star Trek and Star Wars. We know those popular series are just as unscientific as pre-NASA science fiction, but they haven’t been rejected. Why?

I doubt many readers will read Heinlein because of his historical value to the genre. Few readers today read E. E. “Doc” Smith, and his series were once beloved. At 73, I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t give up on Heinlein, too. However, rereading books by Heinlein and Philip K. Dick provides far more enjoyment than reading new science fiction. I both love that and regret it. It reminds me of all my old boomer friends who won’t listen to any music created after 1975. I don’t want to be stuck in pop culture nostalgia, but obviously, I am.

I once read science fiction to think about the future.

I now read science fiction to think about the past.

James Wallace Harris, 9/31/25