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Prism: The Strange Planets We Settle
Journey to Prism, a planet settled from Earth, a planet that vacillates in color and where native life communicates by light, not sound. We soon find out that the colors are more than just beauty, they have meaning, a meaning that humans must solve to be able to remain on the planet where they have lived for over fifty years. The solution may require help of the native life. But, how can humans communicate with creatures that cannot speak?
227 pages, Kindle Edition
Published September 8, 2023
1 person is currently reading
About the author
Jack Verson
3 booksComputer software by education, I started my first company in 1981 writing computer games for the Atari. I then ran a software company for 30 years before retiring. Looking for something to do, I wrote my first book at age 74. A true story about life on other planets humanity has settled. (Not true yet, but it might be one day.) All this for fun, and I hope my books present this underlying theme and are fun for you to read.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
January 8, 2026
Prism is a science fiction novel that follows Vernon Vining, an investigator with an unusual sensitivity to the natural world, as he’s sent to a distant planet called Prism to solve a life-or-death mystery. The planet is a technicolor ecosystem where everything shifts through endless shades. The local life communicates by flashing patterns of light instead of sound, and the human settlers, who initially thrived, now face a frightening problem after a worker dies from a catastrophic and inexplicable internal breakdown. Vernon and his longtime partner Sam are sent across light-years to figure out what Prism is trying to say and how to stop the danger before the entire colony must be evacuated.
Vernon’s voice is warm and wandering in a way that makes even technical explanations feel personal. He reflects on childhood, on breezes and falling leaves, and somehow those memories fold into his ability to understand alien worlds. I liked that. It made the story feel grounded even while describing shimmering forests and oceans that blink like jewels. The author leans into color as a living force, almost a language, and that choice gives the book a dreamy undercurrent. The pacing sometimes slows, but the wandering feels intentional, as if we’re supposed to drift a little so Prism’s strangeness can seep in. I didn’t always know where the story was taking me, but I didn’t mind being led.
What surprised me most was how gently the book handles first contact without making it sentimental. The native creatures don’t speak. They glow. They flash warnings or greetings that humans barely know how to read. When Vernon and Sam try to interpret those signals, the book plays with the idea that meaning might hide in anything. A ripple in water. A field shifting from green to gold. Even a sudden, planet-wide burst of color that feels like a greeting from the world itself. I found myself wondering, along with the characters, whether we’d notice such messages on Earth, or whether we’ve forgotten how. The mystery at the heart of the plot gives the story momentum, but it never overshadows the quieter reflections about perception, patience, and what it takes to truly listen.
By the end, I felt like I’d spent time in a place that was oddly soothing despite the danger. The book is science fiction, but it carries the tone of a field journal mixed with a travel diary. I’d recommend Prism to readers who enjoy reflective sci-fi, worldbuilding built around sensory detail, and stories where the “alien problem” is really a communication problem at heart. If you like stories that move with curiosity and a steady, thoughtful rhythm, you’ll probably enjoy settling into Prism for a while.
Vernon’s voice is warm and wandering in a way that makes even technical explanations feel personal. He reflects on childhood, on breezes and falling leaves, and somehow those memories fold into his ability to understand alien worlds. I liked that. It made the story feel grounded even while describing shimmering forests and oceans that blink like jewels. The author leans into color as a living force, almost a language, and that choice gives the book a dreamy undercurrent. The pacing sometimes slows, but the wandering feels intentional, as if we’re supposed to drift a little so Prism’s strangeness can seep in. I didn’t always know where the story was taking me, but I didn’t mind being led.
What surprised me most was how gently the book handles first contact without making it sentimental. The native creatures don’t speak. They glow. They flash warnings or greetings that humans barely know how to read. When Vernon and Sam try to interpret those signals, the book plays with the idea that meaning might hide in anything. A ripple in water. A field shifting from green to gold. Even a sudden, planet-wide burst of color that feels like a greeting from the world itself. I found myself wondering, along with the characters, whether we’d notice such messages on Earth, or whether we’ve forgotten how. The mystery at the heart of the plot gives the story momentum, but it never overshadows the quieter reflections about perception, patience, and what it takes to truly listen.
By the end, I felt like I’d spent time in a place that was oddly soothing despite the danger. The book is science fiction, but it carries the tone of a field journal mixed with a travel diary. I’d recommend Prism to readers who enjoy reflective sci-fi, worldbuilding built around sensory detail, and stories where the “alien problem” is really a communication problem at heart. If you like stories that move with curiosity and a steady, thoughtful rhythm, you’ll probably enjoy settling into Prism for a while.
June 16, 2025
An alien world of dazzling hues challenges a perceptive investigator in Verson’s philosophical sci-fi debut in The Strange Planets We Settle series. A human settler on the color-shifting planet of Prism has died mysteriously, and the solution may lie not in science or force, but in the ability to truly observe. Vernon Vining, a quiet investigator for the Extraterrestrial Settlement Commission, approaches problems by listening to nature. Paired with his analytical partner Sam, he’s sent to Prism—a world where everything flickers and pulses with changing hues, where native lifeforms “speak” in bioluminescent patterns rather than sound. Their mission is to determine whether the planet is dangerous, or simply misunderstood.
Verson writes with a quiet intensity, favoring close observation over action. As the protagonists move through Prism’s world, the focus stays on how they see, feel, and interpret what surrounds them. Rather than over-explaining Prism’s oddities, the book lets them stand, strange and unresolved. That ambiguity is part of its charm. Time itself bends: travel takes 52 years but arrives overnight, mirroring the disorienting blend of immediacy and distance that defines the pair's work.
The novel’s emotional center lies in the bond between Vernon and Sam. Their partnership anchors the story, proving that understanding can arise from listening as much as analysis. The novel resists genre convention. There are no battles, no villains. Only the question of whether humans can comprehend a world that doesn’t speak their language. In doing so, Verson delivers a patient, thought-provoking meditation on what it means to see, to know, and to coexist. A gently thrilling, idea-rich story where survival hinges not on strength, but perception.
Verson writes with a quiet intensity, favoring close observation over action. As the protagonists move through Prism’s world, the focus stays on how they see, feel, and interpret what surrounds them. Rather than over-explaining Prism’s oddities, the book lets them stand, strange and unresolved. That ambiguity is part of its charm. Time itself bends: travel takes 52 years but arrives overnight, mirroring the disorienting blend of immediacy and distance that defines the pair's work.
The novel’s emotional center lies in the bond between Vernon and Sam. Their partnership anchors the story, proving that understanding can arise from listening as much as analysis. The novel resists genre convention. There are no battles, no villains. Only the question of whether humans can comprehend a world that doesn’t speak their language. In doing so, Verson delivers a patient, thought-provoking meditation on what it means to see, to know, and to coexist. A gently thrilling, idea-rich story where survival hinges not on strength, but perception.
September 18, 2023
love this book!!!
The plot and characters could be from science-fiction and/or fantasy. I loved the concepts, the characters and the ending.
The book isn’t long, but it’s filled with action and ideas. I have to say that I love Thalia.
I hope for a sequel.
The plot and characters could be from science-fiction and/or fantasy. I loved the concepts, the characters and the ending.
The book isn’t long, but it’s filled with action and ideas. I have to say that I love Thalia.
I hope for a sequel.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews