Bits of old stories were flitting through my head last night, like birds seen about their business out the window behind one’s desk. A phrase here and there, in my peripheral literary vision.
This morning I set out to re-read a couple of the stories, couldn’t find them, and read, or re-read others instead. I’m reminded once again of an essential quality of truly classic science fiction– it predicts the future in a timeless fashion.
In a yellowing paperback copy of “Nebula Award Stories Number Five”, edited by James Blish, I read Theodore Sturgeon’s first SF story, “The Man Who Learned to Love”. I was utterly shocked by its relevance to today’s world, and heartened by it as well. The path I’m choosing is similar, although I lack the protagonist’s invention. It’s nice to be reminded.