In the late 80s authors Sharon Lee and Steve Miller wrote a series of three novels set in a galaxy far far away called Agent of Change, Conflict of Honors, and Carpe Diem. And then no one read them… or so they were told.

Their publisher claimed the series was a flop and so it seemed as though it would die right there. Enter the internet where, one day, Miller and Lee stumbled onto a Usenet group flush with fans who, all but demanded more in the series. The surprised authors went back to work and the series now spans more than ten books with more on the way.

Make it a point to read them all.

The Liaden Universe, the name most commonly used to encompass their work, is unlike anything you’ve read before. What’s most impressive about the Liaden books is the variety of settings and styles in which they take place. Agent of Change for instance, is an intimate spy novel focused on a small handful of characters engaged in a complex game of cat and mouse which is confined primarily to a single planet. Balance of Trade is the story of the crew aboard a massive, intergalactic merchant ship, making their way from one planet to the next. Local Custom is almost a romance novel, set amongst the complex politics of an honor driven society. The series contains massive war stories, smuggler runs, psychic warfare, and nearly every kind of science fiction you can imagine, but all in one universe. Best of all, it fits together. They aren’t random stories but larger parts of the same whole, each told in their own way and from their own angle. more...

I’ve been an avid Lost watcher since the first plane crash (I think I've counted at least 4 so far). I’ve stayed tuned in through the ups and downs. The frustrating finales, the endless third season full of questions which we all knew deep down that they had no intention of ever answering. A few months ago though, midway through season 5 I made a decision: Enough. I finally jumped ship. I still remember the Lost moment which did it. Sun receives a phone call, and rather than just tell us who’s on the other end Lost plays it’s trademark “whaaa?” music and flashes to something else, deliberately obscuring the identity of the person on the other end, and leaving us wondering for nearly sixty minutes just who the heck it is. When that question was finally answered, it turned out not be a question worth answering. The person on the other end was the Lost equivalent of Sun’s drycleaner. There was no mystery, Lost had, as it so often does, simply created drama and tension around nothing. Lost had once again jerked me around and I finally said forget it.

But nobody ever really leaves the island. A couple of weeks ago the season ended and the verdict from my friends was that the finale, which I’d boycotted since I’d missed all of the last half of the season and was now out of the loop, was fantastic. Still I resisted, until this weekend, when Lost sucked me back in.

This weekend I watched Lost the way it’s always been meant to be watched. All at once, in heavy doses, as if there were a cable protruding from my brain and pouring polar bear filled episodes directly into my cerebral cortex. In one day I knocked out ten episodes, back to back to back. It’s the way Lost must be watched. Suddenly all the annoying mystery phone calls to Sun’s drycleaner no longer mattered. Those silly attempts to create mystery out of nothing become mere footnotes when you’re watching it all at once, with one episode flowing into the next and connecting right into one another. They try to duplicate the effect of watching the entire series as one long endeavor, with those little “previously on Lost” montages before each episode… but it just doesn’t cut it. more...

Why aren’t you watching Torchwood? Because it’s buried at the bottom of your cable dial on BBC America, most likely. But whether you simply didn’t know it exists or because you dismissed it as a lame, Doctor Who spin-off: reconsider. In a post-Battlestar Galactica world it just may be the best science fiction on television. It’s everything shows like Fringe wish they could be, but can’t under America’s restrictive environment of censorship.

The premise is familiar. A team of professionals work for an organization which investigates alien activity on Earth. Their goal is to protect and prepare. You never know when some half-crazed, energy-based psycho from outer space might decide she’d like to dine on Earthings by using sexual orgasms to suck people dry. From the premise you’re probably ready to dismiss it as CIS meets the X-Files, but Torchwood is so much more than it’s find the paranormal clues premise. You’ve never seen anything on network television like this.

It stars a bi-sexual immortal who dresses like a dashing, off duty Civil War cavalry officer. It tackles any and all issues with unflinching zeal and when called for isn’t afraid to drench them in sex just for the hell of it. The show’s female cast members for instance, regularly find themselves lured into lesbian make-out sessions, yet somehow it’s never gratuitous. How can so much lesbian fucking actually work within the context of a great plot? It just does. It works when a hot lesbian alien and Torchwood’s awkward, straight female computer geek fall totally in love.

Most importantly every episode has consequences and impact. Torchwood cuts right to the heart of even the most bizarre and terrifying circumstances. A lesbian mind-reader who rips out hearts is someone you can, surprisingly, identify with. When people die, it hurts. When the cast gets in trouble, the danger feels real because you never know when one of them might end up really and truly dead. There are victims. There is pain. There is no magic button at the end of every hour which someone pushes to put it all back to normal. Every moment has meaning, emotion, and tears are not uncommon. It’s science fiction for adults. How much of that’s left?

It’s sleek, it’s sexy, and it’s unlike anything else you’re wasting time with. Do yourself a favor and try out Torchwood. You’re missing the best science fiction left on television.