Book Review: Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang

I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.

Stories of Your Life and Others is a collection of eight short stories, all written between 1990 and the present day, by a software engineer working in the suburbs of Seattle, Washington.

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The first story in this series, “Tower of Babylon”, caught me up and tumbled me head over heels like a sudden breaking wave. All the stories that followed, while they certainly could never be called disappointments, felt more like the gentle surf leftover after the initial swell, carrying me back up to shore.

That’s the best I can do, folks, to explain the impact this cornerstone of science fiction has had on my views of Story, the craft of writing, and science fiction as a genre. One story, Chiang told entirely without dialogue. His characters spoke, to themselves and to one another, but he explained those exchanges rather than writing them out. This normally unacceptable approach completely escaped my attention until I’d nearly reached the end of the story. Another short was a collection of monologues. Like reading a scattered collection of interviews without hearing the questioning voice of the interviewer. Still another story employed the passive voice so often, I actually stopped mid-story and started over from the beginning, unable to believe he was getting away with that basic of a faux-pas in the art of writing fiction.

Rule-breaking writing styles aside, Ted Chiang’s stories ring with thoughtfulness, with intention, in exactly the way I hope my own stories will. He does not shy away from the hard, offensive questions that plague our culture and he does not pretend to believe other than he does for the sake of political correctness. And since he couches it all in tales of miles-high towers and parthenogenic experimentation and the advent of the super-intelligent human and student-led movements for calliagnosia, you just sort of absorb his ideas into your subconscious before you realize what’s happened.

Genius.

Mr. Chiang, please quit your day job and write more. For all our sakes.

The Waiting Game

January is nearly over and I still haven’t heard from either the publisher or the literary agency who requested full copies of my manuscript. I knew this process would be slow and I know that no answer is better than a solid “no” at this point, but I’m starting to answer calls from unrecognized numbers, hoping that it’s good news, and if you know me well, you know I’M ON PINS AND NEEDLES HERE AND BEGGING FOR A LITTLE MERCY. 

I’ve already begun planning my next big rewrite, assuming that this first round of querying is a bust. 

But there’s hope, yet. 

Always hope. 

So, back to reading short stories by Ted Chiang, who’s rocking my face right off.