The essentials," I answered, "are to learn to shape God with forethought, care, and work; to educate and benefit their community, their families, and themselves; and to contribute to the fulfillment of the Destiny.
Octavia E. ButlerTags: science-fiction novels
Nothing could go wrong because nothing had...I meant "nothing would." No - Then I quit trying to phrase it, realizing that if time travel ever became widespread, English grammar was going to have to add a whole new set of tenses to describe reflexive situations - conjugations that would make the French literary tenses and the Latin historical tenses look simple.
Robert A. HeinleinTags: humor science-fiction grammar time-travel
Science fiction at its best should be crazy and dangerous, not sane and safe.
Paul Di FilippoTags: scifi writing science-fiction writing-skills
Hey, Wrobik; cheer up, yeah? You're going to shoot down a fucking starship. It'll be an experience.
Iain BanksTags: science-fiction
That was asking a lot of my readers, I realized, but I was trying to write the novel I would most enjoy decoding.
Paul Di FilippoTags: writing science-fiction
Once bitten twice shy? Sure, but... why not get a bigger dog and bite them back?
A.A. BellTags: animals dogs revenge fantasy science-fiction comedy crime supernatural shy bell bit
As many authors have said, if the writer is not surprised by events, then chances are that the reader will not be either, and grow bored.
Paul Di FilippoTags: writing science-fiction
If you ordered up a whore here, you'd probably get a theater major doing Joan Crawford as Sadie Thompson. I wonder what would happen if I ordered up a Hershey bar?" His eyes lit up for a moment. "I wonder what would happen if I ordered up a whore and a Hershey bar?
Kage BakerTags: science-fiction comedy-humor
The emotional tone or affect of the tale should be hot and engaged, not remote and dispassionate.
Paul Di FilippoTags: writing science-fiction
A year here and he still dreamed of cyberspace, hope fading nightly. All the speed he took, all the turns he'd taken and the corners he cut in Night City, and he'd still see the matrix in his dreams, bright lattices of logic unfolding across that colourless void... The Sprawl was a long, strange way home now over the Pacific, and he was no Console Man, no cyberspace cowboy. Just another hustler, trying to make it through. But the dreams came on in the Japanese night like livewire voodoo, and he'd cry for it, cry in his sleep, and wake alone in the dark, curled in his capsule in some coffin hotel, hands clawed into the bedslab, temper foam bunched between his fingers, trying to reach the console that wasn't there.
William GibsonTags: science-fiction
« first previous
Page 19 of 68.
next last »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.