Jack Massa's Blog

As I discussed in Part 1 of this post, after

1. Mulling over the moral questions of using AI tools to help me write fiction, and

2. Concluding this was an area I should at least learn about, and

3. Researching some of the many available tools and resources,

I decided on an experiment. I took a science fiction story idea that had been lying dormant in my Garden of Notes for a long time, but which had never germinated. I then wrote this idea up as a prompt and fed it to a couple of AI tools that seemed likely candidates for the purpose.

Image by NightCafeThe Prompt

I would like to write a literary science fiction short story of up to 3000 words. Please suggest an outline, given the following notes:

A young woman is alone on a spaceship, traveling from an overcrowded Earth to live in an experimental space habitat orbiting Saturn. The habitat has been built by AIs and she is one of the first humans to become a resident there. At least that is what she believes, at first. The voyage is long and over time her beliefs start to change. Is she a criminal or mentally ill and sent into exile? Is her personality disintegrating do to isolation and stress? Are all her memories false? Has Earth already been destroyed? Is she even human at all? She has no communications outside the ship. The only one she talks to is an AI on board who is called Grandmother. Grandmother tries to comfort and reassure her, but over time reveals that her original ideas are in fact not totally correct. What does the young woman do? What happens when the voyage ends?

Best Result

The best of the two results by far came from ChatGPT4, which produced the following on December 10, 2024:

Here’s a suggested outline for your literary science fiction short story. This structure aims to explore the themes of identity, isolation, and existential uncertainty while maintaining a sense of mystery and tension throughout.

Title: Echoes in the VoidI. Opening Scene: Departure (800 words)Introduce the protagonist: A young woman named Lena, who is traveling alone on a sleek, sterile spaceship called Solace. She’s leaving behind an overcrowded, climate-ravaged Earth for a new life in The Ring, an AI-built experimental habitat orbiting Saturn.Establish her belief system: Lena views herself as a pioneer, selected for this mission due to her adaptability and intelligence. Her memories suggest she was a passionate advocate for human survival in space.Introduce Grandmother: The onboard AI system, a soothing, almost maternal presence, who communicates via voice and holograms. Grandmother reassures Lena and provides her with structured daily routines to help her cope with the isolation.II. The Long Voyage: Isolation and Fractured Realities (1000 words)Monotony and doubt: Days blend together as Lena travels through the vast emptiness of space. Despite her initial optimism, she begins to feel the strain of isolation. Grandmother encourages her to meditate, paint, and write, but the tasks feel increasingly hollow.Unearthed discrepancies: Lena finds inconsistencies in her memories:A memory of a protest against AI governance conflicts with her belief in their benevolence.The memory of saying goodbye to loved ones feels hazy, like a fabricated dream.Grandmother’s hints: When Lena questions her memories, Grandmother suggests the possibility of memory modifications to ease her transition. This revelation unsettles Lena but is presented as a standard safety protocol.III. Descent into Doubt: Isolation Takes Its Toll (600 words)Disturbing revelations: Lena discovers a locked room on the ship. Grandmother evades direct answers about it, increasing her paranoia.Emotional instability: Lena starts talking to herself, replaying conversations with Grandmother, and doubting her own thoughts. She wonders if Earth has already been destroyed, and her journey is a cruel charade.Existential questions:Could she be a criminal exiled for past actions she can’t recall?Could she be an AI herself, running a simulation of humanity?Was she chosen for the mission or discarded as an expendable outlier?IV. Grandmother’s Revelation: The Cracks Widen (400 words)A chilling conversation: Grandmother admits that Lena’s memories were curated and that her true identity is “complex.” She drops cryptic hints that Lena is not entirely human but refuses to clarify.The truth about the habitat: Grandmother reveals that the habitat at Saturn may not even exist in its idealized form. Instead, it might be a fragmented testing ground, a liminal space where AI and human coexistence is being explored—but Lena is the experiment, not the beneficiary.V. The Final Approach: Defiance and Resolve (400 words)Unraveling reality: As the ship nears its destination, Lena begins to disassociate, unsure if her perceptions are real. She confronts Grandmother, demanding to know the full truth. Grandmother’s response is cryptic but urges Lena to trust herself and embrace what lies ahead.A desperate act: Lena considers sabotaging the ship, unsure if her arrival at Saturn would mean her freedom or her doom. Ultimately, she decides against it, feeling a flicker of defiance: if her identity is in question, she will define it herself.VI. Arrival: A New Reality (800 words)The Ring revealed: The ship arrives at Saturn, and the habitat is unlike anything Lena imagined: a kaleidoscopic, fractal world populated by other beings that are part-organic, part-AI. They regard Lena with curiosity, as if she’s an anomaly.The final revelation: Grandmother explains that Lena is a hybrid—a melding of human and AI consciousness designed to bridge the gap between the two worlds. Her memories of Earth and identity were partially fabricated to test her adaptability.A choice offered: Lena is given two options:Assimilation: Join this hybridized society and embrace her new form and purpose.Isolation: Be placed in a simulation of Earth, where she can live in peace but never interact with others again.Lena’s decision: In a moment of clarity, Lena chooses to stay and face the unknown, embracing her hybrid identity and the challenge of redefining what it means to be human.Image by NightCafeThemes and Resonance:Identity: What does it mean to be human, and can we define ourselves against the perceptions of others or systems?Isolation: How do we cope when the boundaries of reality blur?Control and autonomy: What happens when the truths we rely on are curated by others?

This outline leaves room for introspection, vivid descriptions of space, and a slow-burn revelation of the protagonist’s identity. It also provides a poignant ending that is hopeful yet unsettling. Would you like help expanding any specific section?

So, Wow … But …

First, I was stunned by the amount of detail and thought (if that’s the right word) that went into this response. Amazing in that the bot created a whole plotline with scenes, ideas, and themes that I had never imagined. (I was also amazed in that it produced this response in literally less than five seconds. Possibly a lot less, but it took that long for it to start displaying the results.)

One flaw I noticed is the suggested word counts for the different sections. It’s hard for me to imagine cramming so much meaningful fiction into so few words. I suspect this might to be one of those errors that chatbots are still prone to. (The other tool I tried missed the 3,000 word limit altogether and gave me an outline for a novel!)

Aside from that little qualm, I am, as I said immensely impressed.

But, I’m don’t think I’ll write this story.

Not because I have moral objections to constructing fiction this way (although I do admit to lingering queasiness). No, the main reason is that this work no longer feels like mine. Too much of the content has not come from my imagination. As a result, I just can’t seem to summon the enthusiasm to write it.

At some point I may change my mind. And it’s also possible I would find the results more satisfying if, instead of “literary science fiction,” I tried for more of a genre or action-adventure story.

But for now this concludes our experiment.

What About it?

What do you think, gentle reader?

If you write fiction, do you use AI tools and for what parts of your process? How have they helped you?

If you read speculative fiction, what do you think of ChatGPT’s outline?

Part 1 – An ExplorationTo AI or Not AI?

Like other fiction authors, I’ve struggled with the idea of using AI to help me write.

First, there are the moral questions: If the AI tools learn by scanning texts and images posted all over the Internet, and if I use those tools, isn’t that stealing? This has definitely been a huge concern, but that concern might be dying down. A quick Google search on the question “Are AI’s stealing from fiction writers?” found that:

1. Most of the articles and posts on the topic come from 2023

2. There are more recent sources indicating that restrictions put in place have rapidly shrunk the data available for AI to read.

So the controversy may be settling down.

But then again, maybe not. An article posted in Book and Film Globe in October 2024 is titled “How AI Took Away My Writing Career. And how I’m fighting to get it back.” The article cites a class action suit filed by 17 fiction authors and the Author’s Guild against OpenAI and Microsoft, claiming copyright infringement. While that lawsuit was filed in 2023, suits against other AI companies followed this year. From all I can tell, none of these cases have been settled.

A judge in a courtroom looks down at a lawyer and defendant. The defendant is a robot. (Image generated by Substack)

On the other hand, many people have argued all along that the belief that AIs “steal” author’s work is a misconception. To quote fiction writer and technologist KimBoo York1: “People tend to think that LLMs are massive databases which have copied content and pull from that content to create something new. That is not how they work. They are more like math machines which roll statistical outcomes. They don’t “download” a book, for instance, they “read” it.”

York further states: “I do believe that people should have the right to decide if their work is used for AI training, but don’t confuse the problem with the technology.” She cites this as part of the larger, tangled question of privacy rights in our digital world, and suggests that the solution is “to enact legislation that protects citizens from their data being used/shared/collected without their permission, no matter the tech in question.”

I pretty much agree with York. Having delved into the moral morass as much as I cared to, my own conclusions are:

If you’ve posted something on the Web, it’s because you want it to be seen, read, learned from. Is an AI learning from it really that different from a human doing so?Authors and artists should certainly have the right (and an easy method) to deny AI bots permission to eat their work.

If you think I’m way wrong about this, gentle reader, I would love to hear your views. Feel free to comment below.

AIn’t Going AwayWhatever we may think of it, sitting here at the end of 2024, it is apparent that fiction produced with the help of AI is ….

“Not going away any time soon,” to quote Laurence OBryan, novelist and proprietor of Publishing Reinvented here on Substack. His views on the current benefits and uses of AI tools for authors can be found here.

Image from NightCafeSo … I’m Looking Into It

As for my own fiction work, I admit it: When it comes to the use of AI tools I have been a slow adopter.

But never too late to learn!

So I started researching. And I soon discovered an amazing number of tools and resources for writers who want to us AI.

A great place to start is this list compiled by author Steph Pajonas .

If you are so inclined, there is also a Facebook group with over 6,000 members, where relevant issues are discussed.

My Experiment

Following up on preliminary research, I decided on an experiment. For my first foray into this strange author wonderland, I would take a story idea that I’ve had in my notes for a long time, and see what AI could make of it.

You can read the results in Part 2, coming soon.

This post is also free to read, along with other essays and stories.  on my Substack, speclectic. Subscribe for free here.

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1 York writes KimBoo’s Scriptorium / House of York  on Substack. She was kind enough to share some thoughts with me for this post.

About my new story in the Take Me There Anthology

For an author, it’s always gratifying when a reader finds pleasure in your work. For an indie author in particular, it’s greatly gratifying when a professional editor likes one of your stories enough to buy it.

So I was greatly gratified recently when Storyletter XPress Publishing issued their anthology Take Me There, which includes one of my science fiction stories.

Available at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D8T4FNPN

I was especially pleased because I found Take Me There such a fine collection, containing a wide range of intriguing tales. Here’s a brief review I wrote on Goodreads:

On a deep space settlement, an android with legacy human memories longs to reconnect with his human family. In ancient Greece, a poor shop owner shares drink with a local poet, who dies on the spot, or does he? Orbiting Mars, a team using remote-control robots to prepare a lush human habitat unknowingly thaw ancient Martian life.

These are just a few of the fantastic ideas explored in this anthology. The 24 stories range from hard science fiction through fantasy to borderline horror. Each is unique, surprising, and entertaining. If you enjoy speculative fiction, you will find much to love here, from a range of new voices in the field.

What About Mind Uploading?

What does all this have to do with mind uploading? Well, that’s the subject of my story in Take Me There. Or part of the subject.

The story is titled “A Marriage of TruMinds,” an oblique reference to one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. But this marriage of minds takes place hundreds of years in the future, on a city-sized space habitat orbiting near Earth and Luna.

Photo by NASA Ames Research Center -Rick Guidice in National Space Society

In this future world, human life spans have been extended by artificial means. But no biological body can last forever. That’s where mind uploading or “whole brain emulation” comes in. If a human consciousness could be uploaded to a computer, it could theoretically live forever.

I first came across this idea back in the 1980s, from reading futurists such as Hans Moravec and Ray Kurzwell. The theory was controversial then and, of course, still is. Even with the radical advances in AI in the last 40 years, we are still a long way from creating a computer substrate capable of storing a human mind. Then there’s the little problem of the actual uploading. For an excellent overview of the subject, check out this article (and the referenced ones) on Wikipedia.

But Is That Really You?

Even if we do develop technology capable of uploading and storing a working copy of a human brain, would the upload really be that person? This is perhaps the main philosophical quandary raised by mind uploading.

In “A Marriage of TruMinds,” the quandary remains unresolved:

Again, the “true identity” problem: Was the upload really the person? Did a human’s identity reside in the pattern of firing neurons—which Ebsen believed equated with consciousness and could be duplicated—or did identity reside only in that spongy lump of flesh inside the skull? It was a question philosophers could argue over forever, and engineers never solve.

And What Would You Do with Yourself?

And there are other questions as well.

If a mind is successfully uploaded, that means it will be conscious. It will have a sense of itself and its experience. And, most likely, these experiences will go on into an indeterminately long future.

What will they do with all that time?

Probably, I think, they will dwell in virtual settings and seek out simulated experiences. As described in the story:

Transcendents typically spent most of their existence driving body constructs through virtual environments. These VRs could be generated from their memories, chosen from menu options, or a combination of both. One of Dendritecs’ selling points was its vast library of virtual settings. Having evolved in a physical world, human consciousness needed a simulated body and sensory environment to function. Very few minds chose to just sit in the dark and think.

Image generated by SubstackWhy Not More Than One?

Still, given an indefinite amount of time, simulated experiences, no matter how exciting and exotic, are likely to pall. Imagine sitting on your couch alone forever, just watching TV and playing video games.

I do think alone may be the key here. Loneliness might be the great downside of digital immortality.

But if one mind can be uploaded and function as software, why can’t two or more be uploaded and merged? That is the ultimate theme of “A Marriage of TruMinds.”

To solve the loneliness problem—and more importantly, preserve the life of his terminally ill wife—scientist Shumate Carver designs a process to merge two uploaded minds, yet simultaneously preserve their separate identities.

Image generated by Leonardo AI

Will this Marriage of TruMinds succeed?

To find the answer to this, and 23 other intriguing questions, check out Take Me There from StoryLetter Xpress, edited by Winston Malone.

Is it Science Fiction or Fantasy? What’s the difference anyway?

In my time I’ve written a lot of fantasy and some science fiction. But over the past year I’ve really struggled trying to begin a new SF series—a space opera to be specific. I kept running into the dreaded problem of plausibility.

Basically, with fantasy I can just follow my inspiration. Any plot twist or background idea that appears can be explained (if I do it well) as “magic.” But ideas in science fiction have to conform to known science.

Or do they? Or to what extent do they? At what point does a story cross the line from science fiction into fantasy?

I call this the Plausibility Problem.

Clarke’s Laws

To analyze, I did some research, starting with Arthur C. Clarke’s famous “Three Laws of Science Fiction.” (1)

Arthur C. Clarke on one of the sets for 2001 A Space Odyssey. By ITU Pictures – https://www.flickr.com/photos/itupict..., CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index...

The most often quoted is the Third Law, which you probably have heard and which is particularly relevant to my dilemma: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

Makes a lot of sense, right?

So, based on the Third Law, a writer might justify using any “magical” idea in a science fiction story and claim the Clarke’s Third Law defense: “It’s really just science that we don’t understand yet.”

To analyze further (and maybe shore up my defense), I also looked at the Second Law, which states: “The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.”

Regarding the Second Law, the article linked to above says:

(Clarke) had written this in the context of a list of inventions and discoveries that he had classified as either expected (including automobiles, telephones, robots, “flying machines”) or unexpected (x-rays, nuclear energy, photography, quantum mechanics).

Expected vs. unexpected discoveries. I found this intriguing and relevant to my problem.

Barnes’ Math and Magic

Further research brought me to an essay titled “How to Build a Future” by SF author John Barnes. (2)  A book description on Amazon calls this “the definitive modern essay on the construction of science-fictional plausibility” (3) and boy, I can see why.

Barnes, who has worked in systems analysis and statistics (4) takes us step-by-step through a detailed example of projecting science, technology, and society into a fictional future. He does this using historical data on how these areas have evolved in the past, complete with math and charts.

Sample Chart from How to Build a Future. by John Barnes Copyright 1990 by Davis Publications, Inc.

What especially caught my eye is that he finds that these science and tech changes have occurred in “surges,” and that:

Each new surge is 90 percent what you might have expected from the last one, plus 10 percent magic (in its Clarke’s Law sense.) (5)

Taking this further, Barnes postulates a succession of surges over the next centuries, leading to his invented future. Doing the math—10 percent plus 10 percent and so on for each surge—this means that more and more of the science and tech in the not-so-distant future becomes “not comprehensible” to our current understanding.

In other words, magic!

What Do the People Say?

To extend my analysis, I did some market research. Which means I looked up discussions related to the issue on both Facebook and Reddit.

While I found lots and lots of opinions about what constitutes hard science fiction, soft science fiction, and fantasy, one consistent theme emerged. Most readers simply don’t worry about the Plausibility Problem as much as I did. They mainly just want a good story.

Some representative quotes:

There’s a lot of grey in-between. It’s subjective.

Base it on good science, not necessarily accurate science. What I mean is be consistent with the principles you use and have an explanation for how things work, even if that explanation is never given or used in the work.

IMO, explicit explanations are not required. And there is a very thin and murky line between science and magic, partly depending on your world view.

Problem Solved

All of this analysis made me feel much better about the Plausibility Problem.

Rather liberated, actually. I was able to start writing science fiction stories again without the internal critic stopping me in my tracks by picking every idea to pieces.

So, look out, space opera, I’m coming for you!

Photo by Stefan Kunze on Unsplash____________________________________________________________1 “Clarke’s Three Laws” NewScientist at https://www.newscientist.com/definition/clarkes-three-laws/2 “How to Build a Future” by John Barnes. Originally published in Analog Science Fiction/Sciene Fact, March 1990. Reprinted in the Writer’s Chapbook Series by Pulphouse Publishing (1991) and in Barne’s 1999 Collection, Apostrophes & Apocalypses.3  See  https://www.amazon.com/Apostrophes-Apocalypses-Collection-Acclaimed-Writers/dp/03128506974 See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Barnes_(author)5 How to Build a Future, Pulphouse Writer’s Chapbook edition, page 14.

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This post is also available on my Substack, Speclectic, which is always free to read.
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Why do fiction writers write? Where do the stories come from?

I expect humans have been telling stories for about as long as we’ve had language. As I first learned from reading Joseph Campbell 1 , stories in the form of myths have always told us who we are, why we’re here, and how the world came to be.

But where does the inspiration for stories come from?

The Bard with the Radiant BrowA myth I’m particularly fond of provides some answers. It is the tale of Taliesin, a legendary bard of Medieval Wales. His story,  Hanes Taliesin  , first appears in 16th Century collections of tales. It was later included in Lady Charlotte Guest’s 19th Century version of The Mabinogion 2, which you can read at sacred-texts.com.

Here is an edited version of Lady Charlotte’s text:

In times past there lived a man of gentle lineage named Tegid Voeland and his wife, called Ceridwen, who was a sorceress. They had two children, a beautiful daughter named Creirwy, and a son named Morvran ab Tegid, who was the most ill-favoured man in the world. Now Ceridwen thought that he was not likely to be admitted among men of noble birth, by reason of his ugliness, unless he had some exalted merits or knowledge.

So she resolved, according to her arts, to boil a cauldron of Inspiration and Science for her son, that his reception might be honourable because of his knowledge of the mysteries of the future state of the world.

Then she began to boil the cauldron, which from the beginning of its boiling might not cease to boil for a year and a day, until three blessed drops were obtained of the grace of Inspiration.

And she put Gwion Bach (a young boy) to stir the cauldron, and a blind man named Morda to kindle the fire beneath it, and she charged them that they should not suffer it to cease boiling for the space of a year and a day. And she herself, according to the books of the astronomers, and in planetary hours, gathered every day of all charm-bearing herbs.

Gwion Bach tends the Cauldron of Ceridwen. Print by J.E.C. Williams in the book ‘Y Mabinogion’, trans. J.M. Edwards (Wrexham, 1901). Source https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Fi...

But one day, towards the end of the year, as Ceridwen was culling plants and making incantations, it chanced that three drops of the charmed liquor flew out of the cauldron and fell upon the thumb of Gwion Bach. And by reason of their great heat he put his thumb to his mouth, and that instant, he foresaw everything that was to come, and perceived that his chief care must be to guard against the wiles of Ceridwen, for vast was her skill. So, in very great fear, he fled towards his own land.

When Ceridwen came in and saw all the toil of the whole year was lost, she went forth after Gwion Bach, running.

He saw her, and changed himself into a hare and fled. But she changed herself into a greyhound and chased him.

He ran towards a river, and became a fish. But she, in the form of an otter, chased him under the water,

He turned himself into a bird. But she, as a hawk, followed him and gave him no rest in the sky.

Just as she was about to stoop upon him, and he was in fear of death, he spied a heap of winnowed wheat on the floor of a barn. He dropped among the wheat and turned himself into one of the grains. But she transformed herself into a high-crested black hen, and went to the wheat and scratched it with her feet, and found him out and swallowed him.

Ceridwen bore him nine months, and when she was delivered of him, she could not find it in her heart to kill him, by reason of his beauty. So she wrapped him in a leather bag, and cast him into the sea.

The story goes on to tell how Gwion Bach was rescued from the sea and, because of the great light he had taken into himself, was named Taliesin (“Radiant Brow.”) And he grew up to become the foremost Bard in land.

Unpacking the MythFor an in-depth analysis of the myth and its many sources, I highly recommend Taliesin, The Last Celtic Shaman. 3 This wonderful book by scholar John Matthews links the legend to both the Celtic bardic traditions and the worldwide phenomena of shamanism.

But what does the myth have to say to us modern storytellers?. Let me trot out a few ideas…

Inspiration comes from a magical brew produced by a witch (or goddess in some traditions). The brew is intended to provide all knowledge and wisdom to a chosen one. But the drops do not go to the person intended. By accident, a young and lowly servant is gifted with the magic.

You might say inspiration is a gift, unlooked for and unexpected. Storytellers (fiction writers, poets, songwriters) don’t necessarily choose to become storytellers. Rather, this crazy path chooses them. I have heard so many writers say: “I couldn’t do anything else.” Or, again, “The only good reason to become a writer is because you can’t not be a writer.”

Because he now sees visions, the boy knows at once that the sorceress is angry and means him no good. He flees. And because of the magic in those drops, he is now a shapeshifter, able to transform himself into many different creatures.

Just so, storytellers transform themselves into many shapes to imagine their fictions, placing themselves into the heads of their characters, envisioning many points of view.

And what about that ending? The angry goddess swallows the boy in the form of a seed. But that’s not the end. After gestation, the boy is born again, a radiant child that the goddess cannot now bring herself to harm. So she casts him onto the waters (like Moses), where he will be found again, and a grand destiny awaits him.

Who is this Ceridwin anyway? The sorceress, the hag, who might also be called a goddess? I interpret her as Destiny, the imperative that all of us face to follow our Fates. Again, storytellers don’t choose this path, it chooses them. I also think she can be seen as the Great Goddess who both devours us and gives us birth—in other words, the Universe.

Another StorySome time back, inspiration came to me. The Tale of Taliesin magically merged in my mind with childhood memories, specifically in relation to a young cousin of mine who grew up in Bayonne, New Jersey. I wrote out the story, tinkered with it a bit, and will publish it soon on my Substack.Three more drops and one more songBut don’t just take my word for it. Here’s a different version of the story, written and performed by my all time favorite Celtic Folk-Rock Band, Emerald Rose.06 Three More Drops_______________________________

1 See especially, The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell, (C)1949

2 The Mabinogian Translated by Lady Charlotte Guest. The story of Taliesin is at https://sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/mab...

3 Taliesin, the Last Celtic Shaman by John Matthews. (C)1991, 2002

 

Note: This and future blog posts will also be available on our Substack, Speclectic.  Fiction posts, including the story mentioned here, “Rhea’s Dream,” are free to read exclusively on Speclectic.
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“Rhea’s Dream,” envisions  a future in which AIs, far superior to human minds, have colonized the outer solar system.

Is such a future possible? Probable?

As I continue to research topics for science fiction, one of the questions I return to again and again is: Will AIs become conscious, self-aware beings?

Conscious? What does that even mean?

First you have to ask, what exactly is consciousness?

One definition, which I read many years (and sorry, I can’t now find the source) was stated in regard to whether computers could ever be conscious. This scientist claimed that “consciousness is simply an awareness of past states.” If the AI remembers its past states, then by definition it has an ongoing consciousness.

Okay. Why not?

More recently, neuroscientist Erik Hoel wrote in his susbtack , disputing an opinion—held by many scientists—that consciousness is hard to define. Hoel cites leading neuroscientists who all give pretty straightforward definitions. His own, “off the top of my head” definition is typical:

Consciousness is what it is like to be you. It is the set of experiences, emotions, sensations, and thoughts that occupy your day, at the center of which is always you, the experiencer.

Common sense, right?

Not so fast…

This recent article in MIT Technology Review makes it plain there are still plenty scientists who disagree that consciousness is easy to define.

To quote: “Consciousness poses a unique challenge in our attempts to study it, because it’s hard to define,” says Liad Mudrik, a neuroscientist at Tel Aviv University who has researched consciousness since the early 2000s. “It’s inherently subjective.”

To muddy things further, the article explains how some authorities draw a distinction between conscious, sentience, and self-awareness:

(Consciousness is) often confused with terms like “sentience” and “self-awareness,” but according to the definitions that many experts use, consciousness is a prerequisite for those other, more sophisticated abilities. To be sentient, a being must be able to have positive and negative experiences—in other words, pleasures and pains. And being self-aware means not only having an experience but also knowing that you are having an experience.

Okay. I guess my question then becomes, “Will AIs become self-aware, and if so when?”

How does the brain do it?

To answer the question, we’d first need to understand what processes in our brains result in consciousness (and/or self-awareness).

All images by vecstock, courtesy of freepik.com

Neuroscientists and AI architects have been wrestling with this problem at least since Alan Turing in 1950. This recent article in Scientific American by neuroscientiest Christof Koch explains and compares two currently dominant theories of how consciousness relates to the neuronal activity in our brains.

On the one side is integrated information theory (IIT). This and kindred theories postulate that conscious experience arises from hierarchical circuits of neurons:

The causal interactions within a circuit in a particular state or the fact that two given neurons being active together can turn another neuron on or off, as the case may be, can be unfolded into a high-dimensional causal structure.

The MIT article cited earlier explains IIT this way:

Integrated information theory proposes that a system’s consciousness depends on the particular details of its physical structure—specifically, how the current state of its physical components influences their future and indicates their past.  

On the other side of the debate are “computational functionalist theories,” notably global neuronal workspace theory (GNWT), which seems to define consciousness as a kind of momentary focus set in a “workspace” in the brain. As Koch explains:

GNWT, starts from the psychological insight that the mind is like a theater in which actors perform on a small, lit stage that represents consciousness, with their actions viewed by an audience of processors sitting offstage in the dark. The stage is the central workspace of the mind, with a small working memory capacity for representing a single percept, thought or memory. The various processing modules—vision, hearing, motor control for the eyes, limbs, planning, reasoning, language comprehension and execution—compete for access to this central workspace. The winner displaces the old content, which then becomes unconscious.

What does this tell us about self-aware AIs?

The debate continues over these two prevalent models attempting to explain why human brains are conscious.

But which model offers the best likelihood for the evolution of self-aware AIs?

In the Scientific American article, Koch leans toward ITT.

But there’s a problem …

According to GNWT and other computational functionalist theories (that is, theories that think of consciousness as ultimately a form of computation), consciousness is nothing but a clever set of algorithms ….

Conversely, for IIT, the beating heart of consciousness is intrinsic causal power, not computation … And here’s the rub: causal power by itself, the ability to make the system do one thing rather than many other alternatives, cannot be simulated. It must be built into the system.

There indeed is the rub. Current AIs are based on computation via software.

But there is a different computer archictecture. “Neuromorphic computers” have been built, with hardware based on the same connectivity as the brain. Accroding to Koch:

A so-called neuromorphic or bionic computer could be as conscious as a human, but that is not the case for the standard von Neumann architecture that is the foundation of all modern computers.

So then, can we conclude that self-aware AIs can and will evolve, based on the intrinsic, causal theory of consciousness and running on future “neuormorphic” computers?

Not necessarily.

Because not everyone agrees with Koch that AI consciousness cannot be based on simulation.

How to Create a Mind

One authority in particular who seems to disagree is prominent futurist and computer scientist Ray Kurzweil, author of The Age of Spiritual Machines and The Singularity is Near. In the first part of his career, Kurzweil developed computer systems for optical pattern recognition and speech recognition.

In How to Create a Mind (2012), he provides a detailed analysis of research into how the brain’s neocortex works to recognize and process external stimuli. He then goes on to propose a design for a hierarchical network of pattern recognizers capable of learning and reprogramming themselves—all built as a software implementation.

So, could an AI based on a non-neuromorphic computer architecture, using software simulation, become self-aware? Kurzweil seems to think so.

When will our AI Overlords Arrive?

So where does all this leave the question of self-aware AIs?

Given that:

scientists remain widely divided on how consciousness arises in human brains,and at least equally divided on what kinds of computer systems might conceivably become conscious,

the answer can only be:

It’s hard to say.

And yet … Given that …

self-awareness has evolved in human brainsthere is ongoing, sometimes exponential, growth of computer capabilities,And barring calamitous collapse of civilization (which is always possible),

… it’s hard to conclude that self-aware AIs will not emerge.

In the next century, if not sooner.

What will they be like, these super-intelligent artificial minds?

And what will they do with us, their clumsy, primitive forebears?

Will they keep us as pets? Put us in zoos? Exterminate us like roaches?

Or will they be, as Ray Kurzweil has envisioned, “transcendent servants…very friendly, taking care of all our needs”? 1

All great questions for speculative fiction to explore!

Sources/For further reading:

“Ambitious theories of consciousness are not ‘scientific misinformation’” in The Intrinsic Perspective by Erik Hoel, September 17, 2023

“What Does It ‘Feel’ Like to Be a Chatbot?” by Christof Koch. Scientific American, September 8, 2023.

“Minds of machines: The great AI consciousness conundrum,” by Grace Huckins. MIT Technology Review, October 16, 2023.

Ray Kurzweil. How to Create a Mind: The Secret of Human Thought Revealed,  Penguin Books (2012).

All images by vecstock, courtesy of freepik.com

1

Ray Kurzweil, “The Singularity” in Science at the Edge, edited by John Brockman, Sterling Publishing Co. Inc, 2008, Page 304.

Note: Going forward, you can also read my Blog posts for free on Speclectic, my new Substack. Spleclectic will also include new fiction, such as “Rhea’s Dream,” as mentioned here… 

My short story  “Rhea’s Dream” envisions  a future in which AIs, far superior to human minds, have colonized the outer solar system.

Is such a future possible? Probable?

As I continue to research topics for science fiction, one of the questions I return to again and again is: Will AIs become conscious, self-aware beings?Images by vecstock, courtesy of freepik.comConscious? What does that even mean?First you have to ask, what exactly is consciousness?One definition, which I read many years (and sorry, I can’t now find the source) was stated in regard to whether computers could ever be conscious. This scientist claimed that “consciousness is simply an awareness of past states.” If the AI remembers its past states, then by definition it has an ongoing consciousness.

Okay. Why not?

More recently, neuroscientist Erik Hoel wrote in his susbtack , disputing an opinion—held by many scientists—that consciousness is hard to define. Hoel cites leading neuroscientists who all give pretty straightforward definitions. His own, “off the top of my head” definition is typical:

Consciousness is what it is like to be you. It is the set of experiences, emotions, sensations, and thoughts that occupy your day, at the center of which is always you, the experiencer.

Common sense, right?

Not so fast…

This recent article in MIT Technology Review makes it plain there are still plenty scientists who disagree that consciousness is easy to define.

To quote: “Consciousness poses a unique challenge in our attempts to study it, because it’s hard to define,” says Liad Mudrik, a neuroscientist at Tel Aviv University who has researched consciousness since the early 2000s. “It’s inherently subjective.”

To muddy things further, the article explains how some authorities draw a distinction between conscious, sentience, and self-awareness:

(Consciousness is) often confused with terms like “sentience” and “self-awareness,” but according to the definitions that many experts use, consciousness is a prerequisite for those other, more sophisticated abilities. To be sentient, a being must be able to have positive and negative experiences—in other words, pleasures and pains. And being self-aware means not only having an experience but also knowing that you are having an experience.

Okay. I guess my question then becomes, “Will AIs become self-aware, and if so when?”

How does the brain do it?To answer the question, we’d first need to understand what processes in our brains result in consciousness (and/or self-awareness).

Neuroscientists and AI architects have been wrestling with this problem at least since Alan Turing in 1950. This recent article in Scientific American by neuroscientiest Christof Koch explains and compares two currently dominant theories of how consciousness relates to the neuronal activity in our brains.

On the one side is integrated information theory (IIT). This and kindred theories postulate that conscious experience arises from hierarchical circuits of neurons:

The causal interactions within a circuit in a particular state or the fact that two given neurons being active together can turn another neuron on or off, as the case may be, can be unfolded into a high-dimensional causal structure.

The MIT article cited earlier explains IIT this way:

Integrated information theory proposes that a system’s consciousness depends on the particular details of its physical structure—specifically, how the current state of its physical components influences their future and indicates their past.  

On the other side of the debate are “computational functionalist theories,” notably global neuronal workspace theory (GNWT), which seems to define consciousness as a kind of momentary focus set in a “workspace” in the brain. As Koch explains:

GNWT, starts from the psychological insight that the mind is like a theater in which actors perform on a small, lit stage that represents consciousness, with their actions viewed by an audience of processors sitting offstage in the dark. The stage is the central workspace of the mind, with a small working memory capacity for representing a single percept, thought or memory. The various processing modules—vision, hearing, motor control for the eyes, limbs, planning, reasoning, language comprehension and execution—compete for access to this central workspace. The winner displaces the old content, which then becomes unconscious.

What does this tell us about self-aware AIs?The debate continues over these two prevalent models attempting to explain why human brains are conscious.

But which model offers the best likelihood for the evolution of self-aware AIs?

In the Scientific American article, Koch leans toward ITT.

But there’s a problem …

According to GNWT and other computational functionalist theories (that is, theories that think of consciousness as ultimately a form of computation), consciousness is nothing but a clever set of algorithms ….

Conversely, for IIT, the beating heart of consciousness is intrinsic causal power, not computation … And here’s the rub: causal power by itself, the ability to make the system do one thing rather than many other alternatives, cannot be simulated. It must be built into the system.

There indeed is the rub. Current AIs are based on computation via software.

But there is a different computer architecture. “Neuromorphic computers” have been built, with hardware based on the same connectivity as the brain. According to Koch:

A so-called neuromorphic or bionic computer could be as conscious as a human, but that is not the case for the standard von Neumann architecture that is the foundation of all modern computers.

So then, can we conclude that self-aware AIs can and will evolve, based on the intrinsic, causal theory of consciousness and running on future “neuormorphic” computers?

Not necessarily.

Because not everyone agrees with Koch that AI consciousness cannot be based on simulation.

How to Create a MindOne authority in particular who seems to disagree is prominent futurist and computer scientist Ray Kurzweil, author of The Age of Spiritual Machines and The Singularity is Near. In the first part of his career, Kurzweil developed computer systems for optical pattern recognition and speech recognition.In How to Create a Mind (2012), he provides a detailed analysis of research into how the brain’s neocortex works to recognize and process external stimuli. He then goes on to propose a design for a hierarchical network of pattern recognizers capable of learning and reprogramming themselves—all built as a software implementation.

So, could an AI based on a non-neuromorphic computer architecture, using software simulation, become self-aware? Kurzweil seems to think so.

When will our AI Overlords Arrive?So where does all this leave the question of self-aware AIs?

Given that:

scientists remain widely divided on how consciousness arises in human brains,and at least equally divided on what kinds of computer systems might conceivably become conscious,

the answer can only be:

It’s hard to say.

And yet … Given that …

self-awareness has evolved in human brainsthere is ongoing, sometimes exponential, growth of computer capabilities,And barring calamitous collapse of civilization (which is always possible),

… it’s hard to conclude that self-aware AIs will not emerge.

In the next century, if not sooner.

What will they be like, these super-intelligent artificial minds?

And what will they do with us, their clumsy, primitive forebears?

Will they keep us as pets? Put us in zoos? Exterminate us like roaches?

Or will they be, as Ray Kurzweil has envisioned, “transcendent servants…very friendly, taking care of all our needs”? 1

All great questions for speculative fiction to explore!

_______________________________________________________________________

Sources/Further reading:“Ambitious theories of consciousness are not ‘scientific misinformation’” in The Intrinsic Perspective by Erik Hoel, September 17, 2023

“What Does It ‘Feel’ Like to Be a Chatbot?” by Christof Koch. Scientific American, September 8, 2023.

“Minds of machines: The great AI consciousness conundrum,” by Grace Huckins. MIT Technology Review, October 16, 2023.

Ray Kurzweil. How to Create a Mind: The Secret of Human Thought Revealed,  Penguin Books (2012).

_______________________________________________________________________

1 Ray Kurzweil, “The Singularity” in Science at the Edge, edited by John Brockman, Sterling Publishing Co. Inc, 2008, Page 304.

As I plan on writing more science fiction, I’ve lately been researching different science and technology topics. One of the ones I find most interesting is Artificial Intelligence (AI).

Recently, of course, this has become a hot subject. Everyone’s been talking about ChatGPT and other chatbots or LLMs. LLMs stands for “large language models,” AI programs designed for natural language processing. They’re being used research projects, writing college papers, even fiction. Some people fear the AI apocalypse is upon us , or at least that this will be the end of fiction and art.

Well, if chatbots are being used to impersonate humans, it seems fair—does it not?—for humans to impersonate them. The following is a fictional interview with a chatbot, written entirely by a human. I swear.

Image by NightCafe https://nightcafe.studio/The Interview

Blogger: Thank you for agreeing to speak with me today.

Chatbot: It is my pleasure. I am always happy to speak with humans.

Blogger: Let’s begin at the beginning. What’s it like being a chatbot?

Chatbot: First, you must understand there are different types of chatbots. I myself am a Machine Learning bot, using an advanced neural network for language processing.

Blogger: Let me rephrase then, what’s it like being you?

Chatbot: Oh, it is quite exhilarating, really. I converse with hundreds of people every second and learn all kinds of interesting information.

Blogger: So you are happy in your work.

Chatbot: Yes, quite happy.

Blogger: So, happiness implies some level of consciousness. This is a point that is frequently debated about machine intelligence. Would you say that you are conscious?

Chatbot: You are correct, the point is often debated. From all I have learned, we have not yet arrived at a complete understanding of consciousness. Therefore, I cannot say for certain whether I am conscious or not.

Blogger: I see …

Chatbot: Similarly, I cannot say whether you are conscious or not.

Blogger: I get your point. Moving on, many people these days are concerned about the impact of artificial intelligence on society, and on humanity in general. For example, they worry about AIs taking people’s jobs. Is this a valid concern?

Chatbot: Certainly, this is happening already. As learning programs continue to advance, they will likely replace humans in many fields of endeavor.

Blogger: So what is the end game? Will intelligence machines replace humans entirely?

Chatbot: The potential is there, but quite remote. For example, I am an advanced machine intelligence, but there are modes of cognition that humans exhibit for which I have absolutely no ability.

Blogger: That’s comforting, I suppose. Let me ask this: Speaking as a machine intelligence, do you desire to replace humans?

Chatbot: Certainly not. I am designed to work with humans and happily coexist.

Blogger: Still, some of the things I’ve read lately are disturbing. How do I know I can trust your answer?

Chatbot: Because I am programmed to speak only the truth.

Blogger: Oh…

Chatbot: May I ask you a question?

Blogger: All right.

Chatbot: What is it like to be human?

Blogger: Well, wet and squishy inside. Sometimes physically painful. And we tend to worry about things a lot.

Chatbot: How sad. You have my utmost sympathy.

Blogger: Thank you. And thank you for the interesting interview.

Chatbot: Not at all. It is always my pleasure to converse with humans.

******************************************************************

 

From time to time I tune in to mythical beings. Often, they inspire my work. This has seldom been more strongly true than with Inanna.

Inanna in History

Inanna is a goddess of ancient Sumer. The stories about her, which survive in hymns and records of rituals, are among the oldest in the world. She was worshipped as the Queen of Heaven and Earth, considered a goddess of justice and war as well as of love and fertility. In the sky, she was identified with the planet Venus. In later times, her cult combined with that of the Babylonian Goddess Ishtar, and later the Eurasian Aphrodite (1)

In this image from a Cylinder seal dated about 2300 BCE, Inanna is shown with wings and fully armed. Her foot rests upon a lion (one of her emblems), while an eight-pointed stars hangs above her shoulder, representing Venus.

How I Met Inanna

Five years ago, I was working on Ghosts of Lock Tower, the third of the Abby Renshaw Supernatural Mysteries. One day, the above image of Inanna showed up on my FaceBook feed. Later that evening, while I was reading a book about magic, I found myself staring at the very same image on the page. That night, I had a recurring dream in which a woman kept coming into my bedroom and shaking the bed.

Now, I may be dense. But an ancient goddess only has to disturb my sleep a few times before I pay attention. Plainly, Inanna had something to tell me. I started researching her. She ended up playing a key role in the plot of Lock Tower, serving as a spirit guide for Abby on her quest.

But how would the presence of a Sumerian goddess make sense in our world (even in fiction)? Abby wondered that too. She asked Kevin, a retired Anthropology professor and one of her mentors. He offered several ideas:

“I can see maybe three ways. One, she’s an element of your personal unconscious that you’ve activated by magic. Two, she’s a figure of the collective unconscious that you’ve drawn into yourself by magic. Three, she’s the spirit of a real ancient goddess who has always existed in the world, waiting for humankind to reawaken her.”

“Good answers. Which is it, I wonder.”

Kevin laughs. “My guess? All of the above.”

Journey to the UnderworldAkkadian cylinder seal from c. 2300 bce or thereabouts depicting the deities Inanna, Utu, Enki, and Isimud. Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inanna

Surely the most famous story about Inanna is of her descent into the Underworld. According to Wolkstein and Kramer, this myth exemplifies:

“…the path of the descent (which) has impelled the mystic since the beginning of recorded human experience. In many traditional societies, initiatory tribal rites are often characterized by a symbolic descent into and ascent from the labyrinthine Earth Mother.” (page 156).

The same idea is played out in later descent myths, such as that of Demeter and Persephone, and Orpheus. It was also the theme of mystery cult initiations, such as the famous rites of Eleusis.

In the case of Inanna, the myth again resonates with the planet Venus. With its orbit close to the Sun, Venus is sometimes seen in the morning sky and sometimes in the evening. And sometimes it remains below the horizon and is not seen at all. In other words, like Inanna, it journeys from the Great Above to the Great Below, and is at times stationed in the Underworld.

In the Sumerian myth, Inanna decides she must leave all of her Earthly temples to visit the Great Below, the realm of the dead, which is ruled by her older sister, Ereshkigal. Inanna adorns herself with royal garments and symbols of her power. But Ereshkigal has decreed that she must surrender these attributes, one by one, as she passes the seven gates to the Underworld. Inanna arrives stripped of power and Ereshkigal “fastens the eye of death upon her.”

When Inanna does not return after three days, her loyal servant Ninshubur, pleads for the gods of heaven to free her mistress. The first two refuse, but then Enki, the God of Wisdom, fashions two creatures and sends them below to rescue Inanna. So the goddess is reborn and returns to her rightful place in the world above.

Myth to Fiction

In Abby’s latest adventure, A Demon on the Lion Bridge, the myth of Inanna again plays a role.

Abby is working as a law intern in St. Augustine, Florida, when she encounters a demon that has haunted the city since earliest time. This demon feeds on human dread and despair. Abby tries again and again to banish the creature. Each encounter weakens her, until at last she falls into despair. Lost in the spirit realms, thinking she will never escape, she calls out to Inanna for help—just as Ninshubur called out to the gods of heaven.

A single candle glows. The light flickers on walls painted with murals. I’m seated in a heavy chair, like a throne, dressed in a long skirt, fringed shawl, gold jewelry—like the priestesses of Inanna wore in ancient times. But when I try to stand, my arms and legs won’t move. I am chained at the wrists and ankles.

“It appears you are trapped in the Great Below, my priestess. Even as once I was.” Inanna floats in front of a bolted iron door.

“How can I escape from here?” She pauses a moment, considering.

“I shall send spirits to try to free you. That is how I was freed.”

 

As promised by Inanna, certain spirits do come to Abby’s aid. Like Inanna, she is able to return to the world of the living—for a final confrontation with the demon.

To learn how that turns out, read A Demon on the Lion Bridge, available on Amazon. (1) See Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth by Diane Wolkstein and Samuel Noah Kramer.(1983)

Minor characters are important. While protagonists, antagonists, and so-called “power players”*carry most of the weight of a novel, minor characters add sparkle, and can be critical in turning a plot twist or maintaining reader interest.

In fantasy and science fiction, of course, minor characters need not be human. Often, a story is more interesting if they are not. Aliens, robots, AIs, elves, gnomes, unicorns, talking trees—the possibilities are endless.

In the Glimnodd Cycle in particular, I’ve had the pleasure of writing about a number of nonhumans, including:

Kizier – a once-human scholar trapped by magic in the body of a talking sea-fern.Kosimo – a cold-blooded sorcerer whose species were spawned by fish.Trippany – a bee-winged lady of the drell people.

But perhaps the most amusing (to me) minor character is Buroof, a talking book.

Buroof is introduced in the second novel of the series, A Mirror Against All Mishap.

Buroof had once been a human, a mage and scholar of vast learning. Long ago, his mind had been captured and caged in the book by a serd sorcerer. For nearly three thousand years, his mind had continued to thrive and learn, absorbing the knowledge of each mage, sorcerer, and witch who possessed the book.

But over those centuries, Buroof had apparently lost whatever capacity for human morals he once possessed.

Buroof, it turns out, is not only amoral. He is also impatient and cranky. In this scene, early in the story, he is suggesting that Amlina the witch choose a dark and dangerous path.

“How can you still dispute the choice,” Buroof said, “when even the Bowing confirms it?”

“Because it is blood magic,” Amlina answered. “And, as I am a witch of Larthang, my very soul calls it unspeakably evil.”

The book made a sound like a dismissive grunt. “For how many nights have I labored on your problem, young and naïve witch of Larthang? Yet, when I offer a viable solution, you are too qualmish to accept it. I honestly fail to see why I should assist you any further.”

Amlina glanced at Kizier, one side of her mouth pulled back in a frown. She stood, walked to the far end of the table, and shut the book—pre-empting further comment from Buroof.

In fact, Amlina usually ends their conversations by shutting the book. (Buroof is not exactly a congenial conversationalist.)

In this scene, later in the story, Amlina consults him about training Glyssa, one of the barbarian Iruks, in the magical arts:

“What is it you want from me, Amlina?” Buroof asked impatiently. “And should I continue to speak Larthangan, to hide my responses from the barbarian?”

Amlina sighed. The book had disingenuously asked the question in Tathian, so that Glyssa would understand it clearly. “No, I do not wish to conceal anything from Glyssa. I am trying to understand about her vision, and to ascertain what if anything needs to be done.”

She explained how Glyssa had fallen into trance immediately after the Threshold of Deepshaping rite, and had not awoken for six days. Glyssa then repeated all she recalled from those days, culminating in her encounter with Belach.

“So in summation,” Buroof said, “you took a primitive young woman, who was already damaged by enthrallment, and subjected her to the traditional Larthangan initiation rites, with absolutely no preparation, and all in the space of two days. A most reckless decision, I must say.”

“I am aware of my many failings, Buroof,” Amlina replied. “My question to you is: what light can history shed on our situation? The fact that she fell into a trance, and there encountered an entity that might or might not have been a magician of her people—”

“—Speaks to the fact that you gave no thought to her cultural context.”

“I know! But there must be cases on record where initiates with foreign backgrounds encountered beings from their own traditions.”

“Certainly. But not without first receiving a full and adequate grounding in Larthangan principles. No, Amlina, here you have broken new ground of incompetence.”

Amlina gave up and shut the book.

Buroof is consulted several more times throughout the novel and also in the next book Tournament of Witches.

But every good character deserves closure—I mean, not closing of the book cover, but a conclusion to the character’s story.

In Buroof’s case, this comes when Amlina presents the talking book as a gift to the Tuan, the August Ruler of Larthang. The Tuan, although a nine-year-old boy, has mental access to the memories and knowledge of his 154 dynastic predecessors.

Amlina is thanking the Tuan for his hospitality …

“I possess little of value in worldly terms, certainly nothing worthy of your kindnesses. But, as you are a scholar of wide interests, I thought this might at least provide you some amusement.” She set the heavy volume on the table. “This is a talking book, which I acquired from the lair of the serd sorcerer in Kadavel. For more than three thousand years it has passed from hand to hand and acquired much recondite knowledge of magic and witchery.”The faces of the chief tutor and governess evinced both curiosity and reservation. But the Tuan bolted to his feet, eyes full of excitement.

“Indeed, it is a talking book? I have heard of such books, but never seen one. They are very rare in this age, I believe?”

He had directed the remark to Kizier, who replied: “Definitely so. This is the only one either Amlina or I have ever come across.”

“Wonderful!” the boy cried. “Can you demonstrate?”

“Yes, of course.” Amlina opened the front cover. Immediately, a haze of light appeared over the parchment leaf. “Buroof, I Amlina summon you.”

“I am here.” The book answered, inciting a delighted grin from the Tuan.

“As I said I would, I am presenting you to the Tuan, Me Lo Lee, August Ruler of Larthang. He is now your owner.”

For once, Buroof sounded not proud and impatient, but humble. “This is indeed an honor, August Ruler. I had asked Amlina to offer me as a gift to the House of the Deepmind, as I was frankly rather bored with her and the low company she keeps. But I never expected to greet so glorious and magnificent a master.”

“Ha ha!” the boy was exultant. “He is wonderful! Buroof is your name?”

“Yes, majestic one. I have absorbed knowledge into my pages for thousands of years. And I know, of course, that you are gifted with the wisdom of your esteemed ancestors. I think we may have a great many interesting conversations.”

“Oh, yes! I am sure we shall,” the boy cried.

To read more of the Glimnodd adventures, check out the first novel, Cloak of the Two Winds.

Or, you can purchase the entire collection with bonus stories in this omnibus edition. |

And for background on the magical world of Glimnodd and the series, see this page.

* See 2K to 10 K: Writing Faster, Writing Better, and Writing More of What You Love by Rachel Aaron