Karma Mars

Karma Trilogy #3

by Jude Fawley

Mars. The ruler of the solar system sits in his castle, in a world of his own. Billions of people are starving and his public image is failing--in response, he decides to have his official biography written and distributed to improve morale.

Back on Earth, Salvor Hardin, a socially inept prodigy, is trying desperately to get to Mars. Unable to get a job, he ties his fate to New Karma, one of the many societies that have established themselves in the absence of Earth's ruler.

Caught in his gravity, the people of New Karma have no choice but to follow Hardin on his mission. Although his intentions are shrouded in mystery, one thing about Hardin is clear--his unwavering hatred for Charles Darcy. When Karma is reborn, who will fate choose?

Human or Machine.

176 pages, Paperback

First published September 13, 2015

About the author

When I first started writing, my mother told me, "Jude, that's not what an A is shaped like." And she was right, or at least it wasn't shaped like everyone else's. And the rest of the alphabet—similar problems, similar criticisms. But when you're a four year old, that kind of truth is much harder to swallow, and since I was obstinate my As were malformed for many years to follow.

What I would have argued, if I had my current perspective those many years ago, is that the shape of the letters never really mattered. The people that spent years practicing their penmanship, with their protractors and their rulers, never really had anything better to say. An A is nothing if it isn't in a word, a word is nothing if it doesn't have the context of thought, and a thought is nothing if it's coming out of stupid people.

So it came to be that the rest of my life, from the age of four to now, I've dedicated to the avoidance of becoming stupid, at the expense of my handwriting. It is my hope, then, that this will give context to my thoughts and meaning to my letters. With these thoughts I sit at a computer, using a keyboard rather than a pen, and string thousands and thousands of these letters together, so that they become books. It is up to you whether they have meaning. And if you find the font disagreeable, the medium by which these thoughts become accessible to you, it won't be my handwriting to blame, but rather some seventeenth century typographer who was just trying to make a living and is now dead. You can blame him, you have my permission.