Billionaire inventor Edison Smith pays for the Lemuria 7 moon mission as a tourist trip, sending media into an uproar. Is it a case of conspicuous consumption? Fodder for the tabloids? Actual, privately funded scientific research? Or something else? It turns out to be all of those things at once, and more.…
When Smith, his wife Mary Alice, their daughter Amelia, Amelia’s fiancé Todd, and the crew of Lemuria 7 disappear, the only conclusion to be drawn is sudden equipment failure leading to catastrophic disaster. But there are hints that such might not be the case.
Believing it was something more—and hoping against hope that the inevitable outcome might not have been so inevitable—Merlin Feng sends robots, and then people (including himself) to the Moon to find out what happened to the Smiths, who were like family to him. That mission, too, encounters… problems.When three-time Hugo Award winner Allen Steele is telling the tale, you can be assured there is more happening than meets the eye. Deeper mysteries and hidden motives mean that Lemuria 7 will live forever, even if the Smiths don’t.
Last night, I was at Readercon for about 25 minutes. I went to the hotel just to drop off the boxes of books which I’ll be setting up today. Then I returned the luggage cart, and in the forty feet I had to walk from leaving the luggage cart to exiting the hotel door to get back to the car, I stopped and talked with five people I know. (In other words, a standard convention: can’t walk down a hall without stopping to talk.)
Each of them asked how I was doing, and to each, I gave the same flippant answer I’ve been using for years: “I’m properly insane.” With those three words, I usually intend to convey the fact that I’m busy, doing many things, but they’re the things I should be doing.
But last night, getting ready for bed, I had something of an epiphany. Sure, I’m busy, but actually the answer to “how am I doing?” is “pretty damn good!”
RESISTANCE (the anthology I edited to help support the ACLU and Pro Publica) is doing well, and people are appreciating it.
I’m excited to be publishing Allen Steele’s newest novel, LEMURIA 7, on Tuesday.
I’m just about finished editing a really great book about film that I’ve been enjoying.
I’m excited to be working with a brand-new author on a two-book science fiction tale that I think a lot of people are going to like as much as I do.
I’ve got several more authors waiting for my close attention, most of them waiting patiently.
And in the few brief moments I give myself to do my own writing, it feels like I’m improving. And when I finish the stories I’m working on, I have some confidence I’ll be able to find an editor who agrees that they’re good, and wants to publish them.
I’m doing a job I want to be doing. My friends seem to value and like me, and I’m very glad to have them in my life.
And now I have to leave to go set up those books at the convention, because selling books and talking on panels to appreciative audiences is my day job.
Sure, I’m busy, trying to think in several different directions at once. But you know what? I’m doing pretty damn good!
After being forced to kill in order to protect their widowed mother, three brothers escape Mafia-controlled Sicily to the New World.
Life for immigrants in America during the second decade of the 1900s is difficult and often harrowing, but that’s the reality into which Peter, John, and Angelu Donatello are thrust when their ship docks in Philadelphia. As Peter tries to make his way in this new land through honest hard work, John’s talents—many learned fighting in the Great War—lead him to the seamier, but potentially more profitable, underworld. And all the while, Angelu, the youngest brother and a true innocent, struggles to just find a place for himself in a world he can never truly understand.
Prohibition may make criminals of honest men, but it also allows poor immigrants to mingle with the upper classes; the Donatellos among them. Yet, despite war and crime, marriage and loneliness, honor and betrayal, the brothers, each in their own way, cling to their creed of Supra tuttu la famigghia: Family is all.
Eventually, everything will lead them back to Sicily, to a confrontation with the forces that have shaped their lives, and to a heart-wrenching reconciliation.
Reminiscent of John Jakes’ Bicentennial series, The New Americans by Tony and Ty Drago is a wonderfully moving saga. The genesis of the story is itself a tale: in his final weeks, Tony Drago tape-recorded what his son Ty thought were simple reminiscences. It was only in the years following Tony’s death, after Ty became an established novelist, that he listened to the tapes and realized his father had left him, not a family history, but rather an emotional novel of immigration, rebirth, and growth. Milherst Publishing is honored to bring this story to the world.
The New Americans, by Tony & Ty Drago, has been released in six monthly installments, as both trade paperbacks and ebooks.
1: Fuggitivi. $10.99, 182 pages, ISBN 978-1-5154-5842-5. February 3, 2026. 2: Strangers in Paradiso. $10.99, 186 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5843-2. March 3, 2026. 3: The Pursuit of Felicita. $10.99, 184 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5844-9. April 7, 2026. 4: The Philly Crew. $12.99, 230 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5845-6. May 5, 2026. 5: A Leaf in the Turning. $12.99, 224 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5846-3. June 2, 2026. 6: The Prodigal Sons. $10.99, 170 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5847-0. July 7, 2025.
Book #6: The Prodigal Sons
Having returned home to Sicily alone, Angelu’s letters to his brothers in Philadelphia mysteriously cease. Only later is John able to ferret out the truth: that their mother fell victim to cruel betrayal, and died of a broken heart.
Traveling back to Sicily to exact vengeance will not be easy, nor will it be happy. But such a vendetta cannot be ignored. So, at long last, the brothers who fled Sicily as frightened young boys return as wronged men, determined to find justice, even if they have to dispense it themselves. But justice, if such a thing exist, carries a heavy cost.
This is the thrilling conclusion to The New Americans saga.
This weekend is yet another science fiction convention for me. Well, that’s the wrong emotional weight. It’s actually only the third sf con I’ll be at this year—far too few compared to years past. At any rate, this weekend is Readercon in Burlington, Massachusetts. If you’re joining me there, look for me (first, foremost, and always), in the dealers’ room at the Fantastic Books table. The room is scheduled to be open Friday from 3 to 7pm, Saturday from 10am to 7pm, and Sunday from 10am to 3pm.
I’ll also be on programming, from which schedule you’ll see that the dealers’ room opening is not at the beginning of this convention, unlike most others. You’ll find me on the following panels:
Friday at 1pm in Salon C-D: “Sports in Speculative Fiction” with Carl Engle-Laird, Claire Houck, Marianna Martin, and Bethany Powell.
Friday at 2pm in Salon A-B: “Secretly Brilliant Strategists” with Elizabeth Porter Birdsall, Julie C. Day, Marissa Lingen, and Caitlin Rozakis.
Saturday at 1pm in Create-Collaborate [yes, that’s apparently the name of a meeting room]: “Rules Were Made to be Broken” with Kathleen Jennings, Bethany Powell, Robert V.S. Redick, and Gregory Wilson.
Saturday at 7pm in Salon A-B: “Miles to Go: The Vorkosigan Saga at 40” with Katherine Crighton, Kate Nepveu, and Meredith Schwartz.
I’ll have copies of the new anthology Resistance (which was so popular at its debut at Balticon) as well as my Punctilious Punctuation (which is new since last year’s Readercon), and of course a whole slew of other fantastic Fantastic Books books. Hope to see you there!
When I worked for Analog and Asimov’s, we had a perennial question: Analog routinely outsold Asimov’s by five or ten percent, but when it came to awards time, stories from Asimov’s always got lots of nominations and awards, while Analog garnered almost none. We knew Analog readers actually read the stories, because they wrote letters and kept renewing their subscriptions; they simply weren’t people who were interested in nominating or voting for awards. And I felt badly for the writers who didn’t see that external recognition, but there was nothing we could do to convince those readers to get into the award-nominating and -voting mindset.
Now I’m experiencing something similar, but not talking about awards. I know Fantastic Books books are selling and being read. For instance, the anthology Resistance was the #1 new release in American Literature Anthologies on Amazon, it is selling copies, and several readers have commented to me on individual stories in the book. But like most of the books my company publishes, it was yet to see a single reader review on either Amazon or GoodReads, or LibraryThing, or anywhere else I can find.
In the modern bookselling world, reader reviews are important. They make books more findable, increase their visibility on the bookselling platforms, and apparently translate to better sales numbers. But I have simply not been able to figure out why my readers are among those who don’t post reader reviews. In the old days, at Analog and Asimov’s, those readers who wanted to comment on stories had to write physical letters, in envelopes with stamps sent through the mail, and they did: we received dozens of letters every week. But today, those reader reviews are as simple as “click here, click a number of stars, type a couple of words.” Literally, just four or five words is sufficient: “I liked the book.” or “The story with the AI was cool.” And yet, nothing.
So I’m asking y’all: how do you urge readers to write those reviews? Or for those of you who do: what urges you to write a review?
If this article is the straight poop, then the biggest lasting effect of the Trump-Iran War seems to be the US granting Iran (and to a lesser degree, Oman) the right to charge tolls for passage through the Strait of Hormuz. In other words, Donald Trump started a war which will result in the rest of the world having to pay more money to Iran. Good job, Mr. President.
Specifically, paragraph 5 says “Upon the signing of this MOU, Islamic Republic of Iran will make arrangements using its best efforts for the safe passage of commercial vessels with no charge for 60 days only from the Persian Gulf to the Sea of Oman and vice versa. The traffic of commercial vessels will immediately start and considering the need for removing the technical and military obstacles and demining by the Islamic Republic of Iran will be instated within 30 days. The Islamic Republic of Iran will conduct dialogue with the sultanate of Oman to define the future administration and maritime services in the Strait of Hormuz in discussion with other Persian Gulf states in line with the applicable international law and the sovereign rights of coastal states of the Strait of Hormuz.”
Lesser issues: the US is paying $300 billion to rebuild Iran (anyone remember The Mouse that Roared?), and terminating ALL sanctions on Iran.
Go ahead, read it: this agreement says that Iran is giving up its ambitions for nuclear weapons (paragraph 8). Every other paragraph is what the United States is giving Iran. That joke going around, about the Supreme Leader’s “Art of the Deal” book doesn’t look too funny now.
Financial discussion question: I’ve been watching the stock market indices flying, driven mainly by the AI trades: Nvidia, Intel, Micron—all the companies making the hardware on which AI systems run. And lots of AI companies are doing well. But what I’m not seeing is the case for the long-term profitability (or indeed, any profitability) for the companies that are creating the AI systems: ChatGPT, Gemini, Claude, and so on. Other than selling those programs to companies to use themselves to theoretically increase their efficiency (or to enable them to fire low-level workers), is there any real profit to be made in AI? An auto manufacturer makes and sells cars: there’s a clear product that will bring in profit, and there are clear add-ons and supplements that can increase that profit. A clothing manufacturer, ditto. Even the various software companies: give away an electronic game and sell in-app things. It may be fuzzy, but there’s a clearly defined product that can make money in a clearly defined manner with fairly clear parameters.
But when I look at internet-esque things which are given away for free, I think first of Google and the other search engines: they make their money through selling advertising. Ditto Facebook, Twitter, and all the others. Are we expecting the various AI engines to also be selling advertising? What is the income-making thing they’re going to be selling?
Or is the last several months of stock market gains nothing more than the AI bubble? The latest incarnation of Alan Greenspan’s Irrational Exuberance?
(Please note: this is not a request for the list of why AI is evil or how wonderful AI will be when it’s perfected. I’m looking at the business case for AI, if there is one, and if any of the money being thrown at it is rational, if it might logically anticipate a return of some sort.)
Michael Smerconish, on his CNN Sunday program, just had a story about homeowners wanting fewer white picket fences and more taller, privacy fences (I tuned in part-way through, and so missed the introduction of his guest who wrote the article that caught his attention and caused him to tell the story). He mentioned that fences break up the landscape, separate us from our neighbors, and so forth. That resonated with me.
I get a similar feeling in dealers’ rooms at the conventions I attend. Way back when, dealers would have their wares on tables, and customers would look at those wares, but could glance up to see across the room, see all the people and tables. And we dealers could see each other, look around to see if there were crowds of customers somewhere in the room even if they weren’t at our tables, subconsciously feel we were all in it together. But over the last bunch of years, table displays have gotten taller and more complex, with huge banners back-stopping the table. Lines of tables all together in a room have turned into series of caves. The aisles between the tables have turned into deep chasms, with nothing visible except the few at arm’s length and the ceiling above. We’ve lost sight of all the other dealers except the one directly across the aisle, and I feel so closed in, almost claustrophobic.
During the story, Smerconish quoted the phrase “good fences make good neighbors,” which we’ve all heard. But do we ever consider the rest of the poem (“Mending Wall” by Robert Frost) in which the phrase appears? Indeed, the speaker of “good fences make good neighbors” never explains what he means or why. But the narrator, talking with him, goes on to ponder
Why do they make good neighbours? Isn’t it Where there are cows? But here there are no cows. Before I built a wall I’d ask to know What I was walling in or walling out.…
Are fences—in general—a response to our increasingly electronically connected world? Is it that we let everyone into our lives on our screens, so we feel a greater need to keep them out of our physical spaces? I can sort of accept that reasoning. But in the dealers’ rooms, I just find it uncomfortable. I’ve found that, when I’m setting up my table in the middle of a row, I won’t put up my large banners behind me until the vendor backing my table has set up and erected whatever large display will be there, facing the other aisle, walling me out. And in the rare event that my back-to-back neighbor does not have a sight-line cutting display, I won’t put up the banners. It’s my little protest against the walling off, the sectioning off, of the dealers’ room.
Perhaps, being taller than average, I have a different view of such things. On a crowded subway car, my face isn’t pressed into my neighbor’s back; I can see above all the heads in the car, to the few other tall people. Perhaps it’s that usual long view that makes the walling-in especially unpleasant to me.
And I know, for many dealers, it’s been like an arms race. The first to distribute free colorful bookmarks grabbed a lot of notice from potential readers browsing the freebie table. But now there are dozens of those bookmarks, and they can no longer be seen individually (consider trees in a forest). Similarly, the first to have a huge banner behind the table attracted attention from across the room. But now that everyone has one, the banner no longer attracts attention, but only serves as a wall, a backdrop. I try to make my display as low as possible—I’ve stopped using the racks that stand two feet tall on my table—so that I can see my customers and they can see me. (The attached picture is, for example, the Fantastic Books table in the dealers’ room at Arisia 2015.)
I’ve occasionally thought that if I were running a dealers’ room, I would ask vendors the heights of their displays, and then put all the tall displays together in one corner of the room—or at least in the back—and let those with short displays be in the front of the room, so that it would feel more open, larger, for customers walking in to be able to see everything, and for vendors to be able to see them.
My house doesn’t have a front yard, so no fence is necessary. And even though I’m a city dweller, I still like, enjoy, need those open spaces, those long views, that make me feel connected, make me feel a small part of it all, rather than a large resident of a tiny cell. How about you? Are you busily building fences and walls to keep me out?
After being forced to kill in order to protect their widowed mother, three brothers escape Mafia-controlled Sicily to the New World.
Life for immigrants in America during the second decade of the 1900s is difficult and often harrowing, but that’s the reality into which Peter, John, and Angelu Donatello are thrust when their ship docks in Philadelphia. As Peter tries to make his way in this new land through honest hard work, John’s talents—many learned fighting in the Great War—lead him to the seamier, but potentially more profitable, underworld. And all the while, Angelu, the youngest brother and a true innocent, struggles to just find a place for himself in a world he can never truly understand.
Prohibition may make criminals of honest men, but it also allows poor immigrants to mingle with the upper classes; the Donatellos among them. Yet, despite war and crime, marriage and loneliness, honor and betrayal, the brothers, each in their own way, cling to their creed of Supra tuttu la famigghia: Family is all.
Eventually, everything will lead them back to Sicily, to a confrontation with the forces that have shaped their lives, and to a heart-wrenching reconciliation.
Reminiscent of John Jakes’ Bicentennial series, The New Americans by Tony and Ty Drago is a wonderfully moving saga. The genesis of the story is itself a tale: in his final weeks, Tony Drago tape-recorded what his son Ty thought were simple reminiscences. It was only in the years following Tony’s death, after Ty became an established novelist, that he listened to the tapes and realized his father had left him, not a family history, but rather an emotional novel of immigration, rebirth, and growth. Milherst Publishing is honored to bring this story to the world.
The New Americans, by Tony & Ty Drago, will be released in six monthly installments, as both trade paperbacks and ebooks.
1: Fuggitivi. $10.99, 182 pages, ISBN 978-1-5154-5842-5. February 3, 2026.
2: Strangers in Paradiso. $10.99, 186 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5843-2. March 3, 2026.
3: The Pursuit of Felicita. $10.99, 184 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5844-9. April 7, 2026.
4: The Philly Crew. $12.99, 230 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5845-6. May 5, 2026.
6: The Prodigal Sons. $10.99, 170 pages, ISBN: 978-1-5154-5847-0. July 7, 2025.
Book #5: A Leaf in the Turning
With the arrival of their ne’er-do-well cousin Carlo from Sicily, the Donatellos are thrust into the roles of hosts and caretakers. Unfortunately, Angelu’s loneliness and gentle disposition make him an ideal target for exploitation, from both family and strangers.
A rival bootlegger targets Peter and the company, and inadvertently endangers Sarah. Knowing where his duty lies, Peter resolves to give it all up for her. John, however, demands his brother’s loyalty, calling Peter’s desire to leave the family business “betrayal.” Peter must navigate his conflicted feelings for John, even as Angelu navigates heartbreak and despair. Dealing with Carlo, however, may prove an even bigger challenge for all of them.
Ian Randal Strock 