Ken Liu (http://kenliu.name) is an American author of speculative fiction. A winner of the Nebula, Hugo, and World Fantasy awards for his fiction, he has also won top genre honors abroad in Japan, Spain, and France.
Liu’s most characteristic work is the four-volume epic fantasy series, The Dandelion Dynasty, in which engineers, not wizards, are the heroes of a silkpunk world on the verge of modernity. His debut collection of short fiction, The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories, has been published in more than a dozen languages. A second collection, The Hidden Girl and Other Stories, followed. He also penned the Star Wars novel, The Legends of Luke Skywalker. His latest book is All That We See or Seem, a techno-thriller starring an AI-whispering hacker who saves the world.
He’s often involved in media adaptations of his work. Recent projects include “The Regular,” under development as a TV series; “Good Hunting,” adapted as an episode in season one of Netflix’s breakout adult animated series Love, Death + Robots; and AMC’s Pantheon, with Craig Silverstein as executive producer, adapted from an interconnected series of Liu’s short stories.
Prior to becoming a full-time writer, Liu worked as a software engineer, corporate lawyer, and litigation consultant. He frequently speaks at conferences and universities on a variety of topics, including futurism, machine-augmented creativity, history of technology, bookmaking, and the mathematics of origami.
In addition to his original fiction, Liu also occasionally publishes literary translations. His most recent work of translation is a new rendition of Laozi’s Dao De Jing.
Liu lives with his family near Boston, Massachusetts.
This was a deeply disappointing collection for Ken Liu. Most of the strongest stories included here were ones I had already read; as for many of the rest, I wish I hadn’t.
Part of what has always drawn me to Ken Liu is that, as a male writer, his work often feels refreshingly free of the gendered habits that weigh down so much contemporary fiction. His relationships rarely reduce women to narrative devices, and his writing has consistently shown a thoughtful engagement with colonialism, migration, and cultural memory.
Here, however, many of the stories stand out only for their conceptual ingenuity or philosophical premise. Those qualities are certainly valuable, but they are also the baseline I expect from good science fiction, not what makes a work truly memorable.
What struck me most was how unconvincing many of the romantic relationships felt. They often seemed unnecessary, as though they had been included because a story was expected to have one rather than because it genuinely needed one. In hindsight, it’s almost possible to see Liu recognizing this limitation himself. His later work increasingly shifts its emotional center toward family, or toward forms of love that emerge through familial bonds.
Perhaps that’s simply part of a writer’s evolution. Looking back, it’s striking to realize that this, too, was something he had to learn.