Paul Di Filippo
Paul Di Filippo is the author of hundreds of short stories, some of which have been collected in these widely-praised collections: The Steampunk Trilogy, Ribofunk, Fractal Paisleys, Lost Pages, Little Doors, Strange Trades, Babylon Sisters, and his multiple-award-nominated novella, A Year in the Linear City. Another earlier collection, Destroy All Brains, was published by Pirate Writings, but is quite rare because of the extremely short print run (if you see one, buy it!).
The popularity of Di Filippo’s short stories sometimes distracts from the impact of his mindbending, utterly unclassifiable novels: Ciphers, Joe’s Liver, Fuzzy Dice, A Mouthful of Tongues, and Spondulix. Paul’s offbeat sensibility, soulful characterizations, exquisite-yet-compact prose, and laugh-out-loud dialogue give his work a charmingly unique voice that is both compelling and addictive. He has been a finalist for the Hugo, Nebula, BSFA, Philip K. Dick, Wired Magazine, and World Fantasy awards.
Despite his dilatory ways, Paul affirms that the sequel to A Year in the Linear City, to be titled A Princess of the Linear Jungle, will get written in 2008. He has two books forthcoming from PS Publications: the collection entitled Harsh Oases and the novel titled Roadside Bodhisattva. His 2008 novel Cosmocopia is graced by Jim Woodring illustrations.
Paul lives in Providence, Rhode Island.
“The emotional tone or affect of the tale should be hot and engaged, not remote and dispassionate.”
“As many authors have said, if the writer is not surprised by events, then chances are that the reader will not be either, and grow bored.”
“That was asking a lot of my readers, I realized, but I was trying to write the novel I would most enjoy decoding.”
“Science fiction at its best should be crazy and dangerous, not sane and safe.”
“The clock indicates the moment-but what does eternity indicate?”
“Madam, I assure you that you are dealing with two gentleman of the highest propriety and social standing.When one contemplates the deeds that are daily done in society's name, such a description is no high recommendation.”
“It was as unsatisfying as a handjob from someone wearing an oven mitt.”
“Gaia giveth even as she taketh away.The warming of the global climate over the past century had melted permafrost and glaciers, shifted rainfall patterns, altered animal migratory routes, disrupted agriculture, drowned cities, and similarly necessitated a thousand thousand adjustments, recalibrations and hasty retreats. But humanity's unintentional experiment with the biosphere had also brought some benefits.Now we could grow oysters in New England.Six hundred years ago, oysters flourished as far north as the Hudson. Native Americans had accumulated vast middens of shells on the shores of what would become Manhattan. Then, prior to the industrial age, there was a small climate shift, and oysters vanished from those waters.Now, however, the tasty bivalves were back, their range extending almost to Maine.The commercial beds of the Cape Cod Archipelago produced shellfish as good as any from the heyday of Chesapeake Bay. Several large wikis maintained, regulated and harvested these beds, constituting a large share of the local economy.But as anyone might have predicted, wherever a natural resource existed, sprawling and hard of defense, poachers would be found.”
“What had happened was this. When still young, I had gotten the idea from somewhere that I might be able to write... Maybe the deadly notion came from liking to read so much. Maybe I was in love with the image of being a writer. Whatever. It had been a really bad idea. Because I couldn't write, at least not by the bluntly and frequently expressed standards of anyone in a position to offer any encouragement and feedback.”