Eco-Fiction As Hyperobject: Defining the Undefinable…

January 18, 2026January 9, 2026 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

In two excellent articles in Climate Cultures entitled “A History of Eco-fiction, Part 1 and 2”, eco-fiction author and critic Mary Woodbury starts out with several rather long definitions of eco-fiction—one provided by Jim Dwyer in his 2010 book Where the Wild Books Are: A Field Guide to Eco-Fiction.

She also includes simpler descriptions. For instance, Ashland Creek Press calls it “fiction with a conscience,” and co-founder John Yunker insightfully labelled it a super-genre.

Woodbury then muses: “I think of eco-fiction as not so much a genre than as a way to intersect natural landscape, environmental issues, and wilderness—and human connection to these things—into any genre and make it come alive.” Not a fan of labels, she argues that eco-fiction is broad and has a rich history (of existence long before its label was coined in 1971 in the preface to an anthology by Washington Square Press) and brings up examples such as The Stolen Child by Victorian author and poet WB Yeats. “Eco-fiction has no boundaries in time or space,” argues Woodbury. “It can be set in the past, present, or future. It can be set in other worlds…I think of eco-fiction as a way to bring alive the wild in any genre, whether romance, adventure, mystery, you name it.”

Eco-fiction—like climate change—is a hyperobject. In his 2014 book Hyperobjects, Timothy Morton explains that hyperobjects are immense, non-local entities that challenge our traditional understanding of objects; things so massively distributed in time and space that they defy human perception, given they exist beyond our immediate sensory grasp yet affecting us profoundly. Examples include anthropogenic global warming / climate change, but also pervasive phenomena, like plastic and oil, that have far reaching impacts beyond their simple physical presence.

My own definition (from a previous article in Solarpunk Magazine) embraces the hyperobject nature of eco-fiction: eco-fiction (short for ecological fiction) is a kind of fiction in which the environment—or one aspect of the environment—plays a major role in story, either as premise or as character. For instance, several of my eco-fiction stories give Water a voice as character. In my latest novel, A Diary in the Age of Water, each of the four women characters reflects on her relationship with water and, in turn, her view of and journey in a changing world.

Through its vision of our future, eco-fiction encourages conversations and an outward perspective. Eco-fiction can trigger a sense of wonder about the natural world; it may connect with our sense of loss or mourning—our solastalgia—for our changing home. Cautionary tales may nudge people to action and encourage alternative futures. By encouraging empathy and imagination, eco-fiction reaches deep into our souls, where we care. It is only when we care that we act.

A recent survey conducted by Woodbury revealed that, “Fiction exploring humanity’s impacts on nature is becoming more popular [and] has the distinct ability to creatively engage and appeal to readers’ emotions.” Woodbury’s 2020 survey showed that “88% of its participants were inspired to act after reading ecological fiction.”

A few years ago, I wrote an article entitled “Why Ecofiction Will Save the World” which appeared in Issue #1 of Solarpunk Magazine. In it, I mentioned how I’d noticed in my university science fiction course that more and more students were bringing in WIPs on ecological and global environmental issues. Many of the stories involved a premise of environmental calamity, but not in the same vein as previous environmental disasters that depict “man” against Nature. Instead, these works gave the Earth or Nature (or an aspect of Nature) an actual voice—as a character—and had a protagonist who learns to interact with the Earth/Nature character, often cooperatively. This represents a palpable and gestalt cultural awakening of what eco-feminists have called the “feminine archetype” by providing a voice for “the other” in story.

This shift reflects what lies at the heart of eco-fiction.

Eco-fiction explores the world and the consequences of humanity’s actions on the environment and ourselves (by inference) through dramatization. The stories that stir our hearts come from deep inside, through symbols, archetypes and metaphor, where the personal meets the universal. In my short story “The Way of Water” (“La natura dell’acqua”), water’s connection with love flows throughout the story:

They met in the lobby of a shabby downtown Toronto hotel. Hilda barely knew what she looked like but when Hanna entered the lobby through the front doors Hilda knew every bit of her. Hanna swept in like a stray summer rainstorm, beaming with the self-conscious optimism of someone who recognized a twin sister. She reminded Hilda of her first boyfriend, clutching flowers in one hand and chocolate in the other. When their eyes met, Hilda knew. For an instant, she knew all of Hanna. For an instant, she’d glimpsed eternity. What she didn’t know then was that it was love.

In a world of severe water scarcity through climate catastrophe and geopolitical oppression, the bond of these two girls—to each other through water and with water—is like the shifting covalent bond of a complex molecule, a bond that fuses a relationship of paradox linked to the paradoxical properties of water. Just as two water drops join, the two women find each other in the wasteland of environmental intrigue. Hilda’s relationship with Hanna—as with water—is both complex and shifting according to the bonds they make and break. Hilda navigates her dystopia by learning meaningful lessons—lessons that pertain directly to our reader in their current world. This is because the premise of a dystopia lies squarely in the present world. Good dystopias enlighten and suggest possibilities; they can warn and herald. At the very least, they incite the necessary conversation.

Our capacity—and need—to share stories is as old as our ancient beginnings. From the Paleolithic cave paintings of Lascaux to our blogs on the Internet, humanity has left a grand legacy of ‘story’ sharing. By providing context to knowledge, story moves us to care, to cherish, and, in turn, to act. What we cherish, we protect. It’s really that simple.

“Morton’s book is a queasily vertiginous quest to synthesize the still divergent fields of quantum theory (the weirdness of small objects) and relativity (the weirdness of big objects) and insert them into philosophy and art, which he notes are far behind ontologically speaking (page 150). Morton’s wager is that for the first time, we in the Anthropocene are able to see snapshots of hyperobjects, and that these intimations more or less will force us to undergo a radical reboot of our ontological toolkit and (finally) incorporate the weirdness of physics”—Cara Daggett

*Hirtle Beach, Nova Scotia (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Nina Munteanu is an award-winning novelist and short story writer of eco-fiction, science fiction and fantasy. She also has three writing guides out: The Fiction Writer; The Journal Writer; and The Ecology of Writing and teaches fiction writing and technical writing at university and online. Check the Publications page on this site for a summary of what she has out there. Nina teaches writing at the University of Toronto and has been coaching fiction and non-fiction authors for over 20 years. You can find Nina’s short podcasts on writing on YouTube. Check out this site for more author advice from how to write a synopsis to finding your muse and the art and science of writing.

On Writing: Defending the Em-Dash

January 11, 2026January 7, 2026 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

I love using the em dash. Along with the semi-colon, it’s my go-to punctuation. And before you ask—no, I don’t use AI in my writing.

Lately, I’ve discovered that use of the em dash has come under criticism by writers and discerning readers, given its apparently overwhelming use by AI. The appearance of em dashes in script is now considered a “tell” that a written work was AI-generated.

I’m told that em dashes were deeply embedded in the AI learning algorithms—they were everywhere in human-generated training data such as books, articles, essays because we used them so often. Because they weren’t flagged as risky during training, they became a default. AI learns through pattern mimicry by sifting through massive text datasets (that have included my own works of fiction and non-fiction;by the way, I use the em dash a lot because I love what it does for a sentence). One theory suggests that em dashes are preferred by autoregressive models for waving tokens or providing structural breaks. Its use has its own name: the “ChatGPT hyphen.” The discussion alone has brought more attention to the em dash, mostly negative attention.

As a result of em dash’s association with LLM-generated text, some writers have started avoiding the use of em dashes altogether to prevent their work from being labelled fake—despite its legitimate appearance in human writing for centuries.

This is a real shame.

Because, the em dash is a visual and versatile tool to achieve an emphasized pause, the equivalent to a raised eyebrow, a dramatic mid-sentence shift in thought, or a noteworthy point to consider. Used correctly and with intention, the em dash provides depth, contextual complexity and three dimensionality within an otherwise unidirectional sentence. The em dash singles out a thought, raises it above the script to show its merit amid the greater sentence concept. What is often achieved is more complex and layered with additional meaning and clarity. The visual nature of the em dash—how it looks in a sentence—is also important. Because, as writer Bill Zinsser says, “Writing is visual—it catches the eye before it has a chance to catch the brain.” There’s a kind of aesthetic nature to how writing sits on a page; this is also why paragraphing—breaking up long text into shorter paragraphs on a page—is so important. The white space created by these breaks subliminally signals the reader, giving them a chance to breathe as they read. The presence of an em dash similarly signals the reader to read the enclosed phrase apart—yet remaining an important part—of the sentence.

Here’s how The Chicago Manual of Style explains it:

“The em dash has several uses. It allows, in a manner similar to parentheses, an additional thought to be added within a sentence by sort of breaking away from that sentence—as I’ve done here. Its use or misuse for this purpose is a matter of taste, and subject to the effect on the writer’s or reader’s “ear.” Em dashes also substitute for something missing. For example, in a bibliographic list, rather than repeating the same author over and over again, three consecutive em dashes (also known as a 3-em dash) stand in for the author’s name. In interrupted speech, one or two em dashes may be used: “I wasn’t trying to imply—” “Then just what were you trying to do?””

After announcing that the em dash is their favourite punctuation, Bavesh Rajaraman listed the several ways you can use this punctuation:

1. use it like how I regularly do, with bridging sentences, kind of like a longer comma, or a semicolon.

2. use it like a colon: “Some examples of transition metal atoms are — Co, Ni, Fe”

3. use it like a parenthesis, to add extra detail, or clarify. “The Wheel of Time has been an incredibly strong fantasy series — till book 6 where I’m currently at — with size and scope incomparable to its contemporaries”

4. use it to interrupt a speaker: “Melissa, I’m gonna be leaving for work, make sure to keep the door — “ as Klein heard the door thud, “I guess she understood the assignment,” he lampooned as he headed for work.

5. use it as something more important than demarcated in parenthesis. Here’s a snippet from Brandon Sanderson’s Essay “Outside”: “When you’re very young, it’s proximity — not shared interests — that makes friends. This often changes as you age. By fourteen, John had found his way to basketball, parties, and popularity. I had not.”— Brandon Sanderson, 2023

Celebrated poets and writers—including Emily Dickinson, Henry James, Virginia Woolf, and Stephen King—have used the em dash for emphasis, as bridge or interruption, or to set off parenthetical thoughts, create unique rhythms and cadence in their writing. The poet Emily Dickinson was known to use dashes instead of commas or periods to create pauses, express emotion and link ideas in her poetry. These celebrated authors used the em dash for emphasis and interruption, drawing attention to a phrase or to intentionally break a sentence’s flow. They used the em dash as appositives, to set off additional information with more impact. They used the em dash to create rhythm and pacing. They used the em dash to create a unique voice and style. The em dash is an uber-punctuation! And it’s been around since the early 1800s, adding style, pizazz, rhythm and depth to all types of writing.

I wish I had this quote from Rajaraman when I was submitting my fiction to editors, who seemed to like to remove most of my em dashes and replace them with boring commas:

“The em dash is a fiction writer’s spell-casting focus, it’s their ultimate pacing tool; used to fix the flow of a sentence. There’s no such thing as too many em dashes in literature.”

Canadian journalist Clive Thompson wrote, “Writers worry they overuse it. They shouldn’t—it’s awesome.”

All to say forget the internet conspiracy theories that em dashes are a telltale sign of AI writing; forget that ChatGPT can’t stop using them even when users tell it to stop. The em dash is not a sign of AI, but that AI was trained on good writing—good human writing. FVR at WellVersed.com adds that it’s “not a robot glitch—it’s a writer’s signature.”

So, I for one, will continue using the em dash liberally, as I have for the past forty years—long before ChatGPT hiccupped into our writing lives and long after.

References:

Csutoras, Brent. 2025. “The Em Dash Dilemma: How a Punctuation Mark Became AI’s Stubborn Signature.” Medium, April 29, 2025.

Rajaraman, Bavesh. 2025. “An Era to its Knee: An Em-dash Retrospective.” The Jabber Junction, July 29, 2025.

*Robot reading a book* (image by Science Friday)

Nina Munteanu’s ‘The Way of Water’ Is Focus of Thesis on Canadian Eco-Stories

December 28, 2025December 31, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

In her masters thesis published in November 2025 at the University of Graz, Austria, Şeyma Yonar uses my short story The Way of Water, along with several others to explore and discuss the importance of eco-literature in establishing ecological awareness and ultimately ecological and sustainable action.

*Ice-covered bay, Otonabee River, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Yonar draws on the work of Maria Löschnigg to argue that “as the environmental crisis encompasses not just physical challenges but also a crisis of imagination, posing questions about life in severely degraded environments, it becomes crucial to examine how literature can inspire interest in ecological issues and foster a deeper environmental awareness.” Yonar further draws on the works of Serpil Oppermann and Susan O’Brian to note that ecocriticism tends to neglect less conventional but equally meaningful speculative or experimental fiction in its critical gaze of relevant eco-literature and to question whether realism should be the dominant mode for ecological discourse.

*Ice-bubbles in a stream, Jackson Creek, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

“The Way of Water is a strong eco-story that possesses many layers and elements that strengthen its narrative while encouraging readers to engage with its world…The notion what water constitutes the essence of life is the central theme of the story … Munteanu’s knowledge as a scientist enables her to create a convincing scientist protagonist whom she embeds into a powerful fictional story. Water, particularly in this eco-story acts not only as a symbolic entity but also as a body of force…the agency of water is presented as a dynamic, living entity, central to the narrative’s ecological themes.”

“Munteanu’s impactful storytelling highlights her significant contribution to Canadian literature, particularly through her engagement with pressing environmental issues and her commitment to fostering ecological awareness through fiction.”

*Ice ‘pearls’ in Jackson Creek in winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Yonar draws on the work of Serpil Oppermann, who points out in her book Blue Humanities, that water is deeply connected to social and cultural realities, and stories that highlight its narrative role are both essential and impactful. “Non-human-centred narratives reveal the dynamic and active nature of water, making its agency understandable and natural to the reader.”

Yonar quotes beginning lines of the short story to demonstrate how a powerful metaphor can become surprisingly literal: In this passage the main character Hilda thinks: water is a shape-shifter. It changes yet stays the same, shifting its face with the climate. It wanders the earth like a gypsy, stealing from where it is needed and giving whimsically where it isn’t wanted: “A statement,” Yonar writes, “that initially appears to be metaphorical rather than literal description of water. However, as the story expands, it becomes evident that this ‘shape-shifting’ feature is not an unrealistic trait, but rather a reflection of water’s dynamic and transformative nature.” She adds that, “this characterization of water points out its agency, suggesting its ability to adapt and influence the narrative in ways that transcend traditional understandings.”

*Icy bay, Jackson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Yonar notes that intertextuality used in The Way of Water—such as wCard, iTap and Schrödinger’s Water is a useful way to “foreground notions of relationality, interconnectedness and interdependence in modern cultural life” (Graham Allen). Intertextuality in The Way of Water reflects capitalist industrialism: the monetization, commodification and control of water by national utilities represented by CanadaCorp: the “corporate dominance, digital dependence, and pervasive nature of technology.” Yonar adds pithily, “In a manner analogous to how Apple products have become indispensable instruments in contemporary existence, the iTap within Munteanu’s narrative operates as an emblem of hyper-connectivity and authority, thereby amplifying the novel’s critique of technological dependency in modern society.” Yonar ponders that the thought experiment of Schrödinger’s Cat, reimagined through the element of water as Schrödinger’s Water, “reframes the original paradox within an ecological and environmental context, emphasizing the fluidity and uncertainty of water’s role in shaping human and non-human existence.”

Yonar shares with Meyer and Oppermann “a unified perspective on the collaborative role of writers and scientists in addressing the shared challenge of climate change.” Yonar concludes that The Way of Water introduces a powerful human-made cooperation that is at the same time political, suppresses people, and takes advantage of the scarcity of water. Even “the rain belonged to CanadaCorp,” she quotes from The Way of Water.

*Various publications in which* The Way of Water *appeared*

The Way of Water was first published as a bilingual print book by Mincione Edizioni (Rome) in Italian (La natura dell’acqua, translated by Fiorella Moscatello), and English along with a recounting of what inspired it: The Story of Water (La storia dell’acqua) in 2016. To date, The Way of Water has been published and republished eight times throughout the world and translated into Italian and German. I think this success is less a reflection of my writing than the immediacy and importance of the topic covered: growing water scarcity, its commodification, and its politicization.

I’ve written several articles on how The Way of Water came about. Briefly, it all started with an invitation in 2015 by my publisher in Rome to write about water and politics in Canada. I had long been thinking of potential ironies in Canada’s water-rich heritage. The premise I wanted to explore was the irony of people in a water-rich nation experiencing water scarcity: living under a government-imposed daily water quota of 5 litres as water bottling and utility companies took it all.

Latest publication of The Way of Water in Nova 37, translated into German as Der Weg des Wassers

The Way of Water, in turn, inspired my dystopian novel A Diary in the Age of Water (Inanna Publications, 2020), which chronicles the lives of four generations of women and their relationship to water during a time of severe water restriction and calamitous climate change. The novel features the main character Hilda from The Way of Water and her limnologist mother; A Diary in the Age of Water is essentially the mother’s diary embedded in a larger story. Through a series of entries, the diarist reflects on the subtle though catastrophic occurrences that will eventually lead to humanity’s demise.

*Jackson Creek in the fall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

References:

Löschnigg, Maria. 2014. “The Contemporary Canadian Short Story in English: Continuity and Change.” Cultures in America in Transition, vol. 7, WVT.

Munteanu, Nina. “The Way of Water” Mincione Edizioni, Rome. 113pp.

Munteanu, Nina. “A Diary in the Age of Water.” Inanna Publications, Toronto, ON. 328pp.

Meyer, Bruce. 2017. “Introduction to “Cli Fi: Canadian Tales of Climate Change“

Fi: Anthology #14. Edited by Bruce Meyer. Exile Editions, Toronto.304pp.

O’Brian, Susan. 2001. “Articulating a World of Difference: Ecocriticism, Post colonialism and Globalization.” Canadian Literature vol. 170-171: 140-158.

Oppermann, Serpil. 2023. “Blue Humanities.” Cambridge University Press.

Yonar, Şeyma. 2025. “Short Texts—Long Term Effects: The Canadian Eco-Story.” Masters Thesis, University of Graz, Austria. 70pp.

*Jackson Creek partially iced in winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Author Interview: Terry Birdgenaw Talks About Insects, Climate Change and his Latest Book

December 21, 2025December 15, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

It was several years ago, in 2020, that Terry Birdgenaw approached me as a writing coach to look at his first novel. When he described its premise, I was hooked right away and agreed to give it an editorial review. It was the beginning of a wonderful and rich experience with Terry’s books, now a series entitled The Antunite Chronicles. From the start, I was impressed and fascinated with his imagination and accurate use of science to produce a diverting allegorical CliFi series about cyborg insects on a far-away planet that serves as metaphor to developing autocracies on Earth.

Terry has three books out, with a fourth upcoming. The three books in this YA series take place on a far-away planet and moon, serving as a political and environmental allegory of an evolving technological society and failed democracy. They include: Antuna’s Story; The Rise and Fall of Antocracy; and Antunites Unite. The theme of induced climate change and environmental destruction runs deeply through the first three books. The fourth book, soon to release, is Cyborg Contact, which returns us to Earth. I’ll let Terry describe the series in the following interview I conducted with him on November 26:

Nina: Your background and expertise is in neuroscience and psychology with over 150 scientific publications. You are Harold Griffith Professor of Anesthesia Research at McGill University in Montreal and your main research focus is on the mechanisms underlying neuroplasticity and its influence on the perception of pain. What got you started writing this incredible series, an adventure story that embraces ecology and entomology? What gave you the idea to create this imaginative modern allegory on the evolution of a technological society using insects as your main characters?

Terry: Oddly enough, I was not originally planning to write fiction. My inspiration came from my school librarian wife, Ann Birdgenaw, when she began writing the second book of her children’s chapter book series, Black Hole Radio. Her series features fifth-grade kids who travel through a wormhole to different planets, aiding the inhabitants they discover. She was considering what kind of planet and civilization her explorers would encounter, and I gave her some ideas about a giant cyborg-insect world that she ran with. Having some skin in the game, I participated beyond my welcome, offering plotlines that were far too advanced for her 7- to 11-year-old readers. Graciously, Ann suggested I take my ideas and write the backstory for her book, Black Hole Radio – Bilaluna, but target my book at young adults and adults. Thus began my fiction writing adventure. It was a rough start, but with the help of a tolerant book coach, my planned novella rapidly expanded to a trilogy. Perhaps a quick study because of years of scientific writing, I still credit Nina with opening in me an imaginative creativity I never knew I possessed.

Nina: The narrative of your stories is from the POV of various insects and in some way, the stories are dramatizations of real and accurate ecological relationships of insects with their environment and each other. How did you prepare for this—both in relaying accurate ecologies and in realizable dramatization and characterization of your main characters—all insects? How did you avoid what I would call the Disney-effect: anthropomorphising insect characters into human archetypes to achieve reader engagement? How did you create that balance between realistic representation and empathic portrayal?

Terry: Although my books are parodies with characters who face political and ecological problems and anthropomorphise human dilemmas, I did not want them to be simply furry or slimy stand-ins for the humans they satirize. Thus, I drew on my long-standing expertise as a scientific researcher to delve deeply into entomology, ecology and environmental science. Fascinated by the richness of insect activities and interactions and the similarity between insect and human behaviour, I endeavoured to exploit my newly acquired knowledge within the pages of my story. I was inspired both by Orwellian dystopias and works such as Bernard Werber’s Empire of the Ants and Laline Paull’s The Bees. But more than that, I learned to let myself be taken into the world my insects lived in, experiencing both their instinctive realities and the human predicaments I intended to lampoon in equal measure.

Nina: I noticed some fun metaphoric descriptions and expressions that incorporated insect terms to represent human counterparts. Did these come to you easily or were they a lot of work over time? Can you describe the process you used? For instance, did you spend a lot of time watching ants on the sidewalk?

Terry: Some phrases like ‘she shook her antenna to tune her attention’, ‘I took that as a back-clawed compliment’, or ‘he is such a hindgut hole’ came easily to me as differences in insect and human anatomy necessitated them. Others, like the expressions explained in my dictionary of pheromonal insect emotions, took much more reflection. This literary technique was inspired by your writing guide, The Fiction Writer, when you described how to add colour to one’s writing by using word pairings that mix up the senses, like the well-known one ‘biting cold’. This excellent advice led me to develop an extensive lexicon of insect emotions/non-verbal speech, including word combinations such as abrasive aroma, bitter bouquet, frosty fragrance, and vacillating vapour. They were not all alliterations, but some, like ‘she emitted an effervescent essence, were clearly intended to be. I didn’t watch ants walking, but I thought a lot about how they might communicate their emotions pheromonally.

Nina: One of the things I enjoyed throughout your series is how you seamlessly imparted interesting facts about insects on our planet in the storytelling. I learned a lot about various insects! Tell us a little about the process you used to achieve this so effectively.

Terry: As a long-time researcher, I have learned how to find and use facts from scientific literature and reliable web-based information on many subjects within and outside my scientific field. Insect behaviour is little known, but often fascinating, and I enjoyed both discovering many details and incorporating them into fiction scenes. Sometimes I was required to dig even deeper than I initially expected to make my stories scientifically accurate. One of these cases had a very significant impact on a critical component of my book’s key plot. In Antunites Unite, ants are separated into a hierarchy of castes based on exoskeleton colour. Although clearly an anti-racism story, I originally wrote it with black ants as oppressors of both brown and red ants. Perhaps influenced by previous literature and movies, where the bad guys are often dressed in black, I had a feeling that some readers might interpret my choice as having a racist underpinning. I convinced myself that readers would not take the colour choice as representative of human ethnicity. However, the last beta reader to comment on the book made such an interpretation and confirmed my fear that some readers might see it as the opposite of my intention. So, while I debated altering the colour schemes, I dug deeper into the entomological discovery of a phenomenon my story paralleled, involving what entomologists call slave-maker ants. When my extensive research confirmed that red ants are more often the ants using raids to steal the eggs of other ants to be raised as slave-like workers for the dominant reds, I knew I had to reverse the colours. And this was no easy task, because all the characters in each caste took names that reflected their colour, like Ruby and Obsidiant. There were also many humorous references to colour, such as black widow spiders and lava fields, that needed to be reworked. It was an editing nightmare: Rose became Raven, and Raven – Rose, while Cole gave way to Clay, and Jett morphed to Jasper, etc., etc., etc. But in the end, it was true to nature and avoided any unwanted racial interpretations.

Nina: In your first three books—a political modern satire on developing autocracies and human-induced climate change—you explore the technological and biological evolution of an insect exo-community in which certain species—ants for instance—acquire the ability to become cyborgs, ANTs, growing in size and abilities to navigate their world more effectively with related achievements—and consequences. As an ecologist, I was fascinated by how you portrayed the changing relationship of these beings to their environment as they evolved. Do you see a parallel with human society? Can you elaborate on this?

Terry: Yes, on a macro level. That is, technology can benefit society immensely, but it can also cause significant harm when coupled with greed, wilful ignorance of scientific warnings, and leaders misleading the public. I highlight one line of poetry written by my narrator in The Rise and Fall of Antocracy: “Like Peter and the crows, tis science, truth and reality denied ere climate is crucified.” Cyborg insects were created to enhance the production of honey, which was their currency. Cyborg ants, who most craved both power and honey, deceived the public to the detriment of the environment and ignored the science that provided evidence of environmental changes, which most insectoids on the planet denied. Perhaps an obvious cataclysmic message to those in our world, but many on this Earth apparently need to be hit over the head to see where this all may lead.

Nina: Tell us about your latest book, the fourth in the series, Cyborg Contact, in which one of the cyborg ANTs returns to Earth through a wormhole with an important mission. I found that, while the first three books served as satirical allegory to a developing technological society through the evolving insect communities, the fourth book—being a first contact—shifts into more of an exploration of ‘the other,’ its perception and treatment by humans and their civilizations. Can you expand on this? How does humanity’s perception and treatment of the ‘other’ factor into our treatment of our environment and the growing phenomenon of climate change?

Terry: I might disagree and point out that ‘exclusion of the other’ is a dominant theme in all four books. The difference is that in Cyborg Contact, the main character embodies ‘the other’, so it hits home more strongly. What could be more ‘otherly’ than an alien (from another planet) who is treated like an illegal alien and hunted by ICE agents? And, too, aside from being hunted, many other dangers the alien experiences on Earth, including hurricanes, droughts, mudslides, and forest fires, are all caused by climate change, which has accelerated in the near-future North America our hero traverses. It seems that for some world leaders, a lack of empathy for others is paired with a disregard for the environment.

Nina: Who is reading your books? And who should be who isn’t?

Terry: They are read by both young adults and adults; sometimes by parents reading to their pre-teens. They are not New York Times best sellers, but are highly celebrated by those who have read them. They should be read by all sci-fi and fantasy readers aged 13 and up who enjoy a thought-provoking read, except those who support fascism.

Nina: How have your books been generally received? I understand that your trilogy has won the Firebird Book Award. Congratulations! What are people saying about your books?

Terry: Editorial reviews have been stellar, and the books have received awards from most of the contests to which they have been entered. Awards for all three books include Gold Medal/Badge (Readers’ Favourite, Literary Titan), First Place Prize (Firebird, Entrada Incipere), Silver & Bronze Medal (Firebird, Bookfest), Honourable Mention (Readers’ Favourite), and Finalist (American Writing Awards, Chanticleer, The Wishing Shelf). Most notable review comments describe the books as: “soon-to-be a bestseller”, “takes speculative fiction to a new level”, “fantastical to a degree not seen elsewhere in any Sci-Fi dystopian fiction”, “as big in spirit as any literary giant in the genre” and “holds its ground next to Brave New World, Dune, Animal Farm, and 1984”. These reviews have “blown me away”, like an enthusiastic reader’s comment on Antuna’s Story.

Nina: What’s next for Terry Birdgenaw?

Terry: Finish editing Book 4 and writing a dystopian novel featuring humans for a change.

Nina: That sounds very intriguing! Thanks for coming out for the interview, Terry.

Terry: My pleasure, Nina.

*The first three books of the Antunite Chronicles series by Terry Birdgenaw*

You can find Terry’s books all over the place, including Amazon. Find out more about Terry on his website and check out Terry’s interview on SF Canada in which he talks more about his heritage and interests.

Terry Birdgenaw and one of his fans

*Terry Birdgenaw with Narrant* at award ceremonies

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Exploring “The Law of Attraction for Writers” Podcast with Suzanne Lieurance & Simon Rose

December 14, 2025December 16, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Today, I’m sitting down with authors and writing coaches Suzanne Lieurance and Simon Rose to talk about their brand-new YouTube series, The Law of Attraction for Writers Podcast, which you can find at: https://www.youtube.com/@LawofAttractionforWritersPodca.

The show blends mindset, creativity, and practical writing advice — a combination that’s resonating with writers who want to manifest success and write with more ease.

Nina: Welcome, both of you!

Suzanne: Thank you! We’re so excited to finally share this project.

Simon: Yes, it’s been in the works for a while, and we’re thrilled to see writers already responding so positively.

Nina: Let’s start with the big question. Why create a Law of Attraction for Writers podcast?

Suzanne: Well, over the years, I’ve coached so many writers who say things like, “I’ll feel successful when I get an agent,” or “I’ll write when I have more time.” But the Law of Attraction teaches us it works the other way around — you become the person who already feels successful, and the opportunities follow. I wanted to create a podcast that helps writers understand how their thoughts, emotions, and energy shape their writing lives.

Simon: Exactly. So much of writing is mental. You can have the best outline and still feel blocked if your energy is off. We wanted to show that aligning your mindset with your goals isn’t mystical — it’s practical. You’re essentially training your brain to focus on what you want instead of what you fear.

Nina: How would you describe the podcast to someone who hasn’t tuned in yet?

Simon: Each episode focuses on one key aspect of the Law of Attraction and how it connects to the writing process. We might explore a concept like visualization, vibration, or inspired action — and then show writers how to apply that directly to their writing routines.

Suzanne: We wanted to make it accessible. It’s not just theory or motivation. We give writers clear steps they can take right away — ways to shift their thinking, attract new ideas, or rekindle their excitement for a project.

Simon: We also share personal stories. Between the two of us, we’ve seen these principles in action — in publishing, in teaching, and even in everyday creative decisions.

Nina: I love that you connect mindset with the craft of writing. Can you say more about how that works?

Suzanne: Sure. A lot of writers separate the two — mindset on one side, writing craft on the other. But they’re intertwined. You might know every writing technique out there, but if you’re doubting yourself or constantly telling yourself you’re behind, you’ll block the creative flow.

Simon: That’s why the Law of Attraction is so powerful for writers. It’s not just about “thinking positive.” It’s about intentionally setting the tone for your writing sessions, deciding what kind of writer you believe yourself to be, and letting that belief guide your actions.

Suzanne: In one episode, we talk about “energetic alignment” — how your emotional state affects the words you put on the page. When you write from frustration, the writing feels heavy. But when you write from joy or curiosity, the story expands.

Nina: You’ve both been writing coaches for years. How has it been working together on this project?

Simon: It’s been wonderful. Suzanne brings a very intuitive approach to writing and mindset, while I tend to look at things through a more analytical lens. Together, we strike a balance between the spiritual and the practical.

Suzanne: Yes! We complement each other well. Simon often grounds the big ideas in real-world examples, and I love exploring how energy and focus shape results. It’s a true partnership — and we both learn from each other in every episode.

Nina: Without giving too much away, what are some of the themes or takeaways that keep coming up in your discussions?

Suzanne: One theme that runs through everything is trust — trusting yourself, your ideas, and the timing of your success. The Law of Attraction reminds us that everything unfolds when you’re ready to receive it.

Simon: Another recurring idea is momentum. Writers often stop when things get tough, but energy builds through consistent action. You don’t have to write for hours every day — just focus on showing up with intention. That small shift can open the door to much bigger results.

Suzanne: We also talk about how to handle resistance. Every writer faces doubt or creative slumps. The podcast offers ways to turn those moments into opportunities instead of roadblocks.

Nina: You’ve chosen YouTube as your main platform. Why that format?

Simon: We wanted to make it easy and engaging. YouTube allows us to connect visually and energetically with our audience. Writers can listen while they work, which adds a more personal connection.

Suzanne: And YouTube’s format fits how writers consume content today. Many of them already use it to learn about craft and publishing. This podcast adds another layer — the inner work behind writing success.

Nina: What’s ahead for the Law of Attraction for Writers Podcast?

Suzanne: We’ll keep releasing new episodes every Tuesday. Each one will build on the idea that your energy, focus, and beliefs create your writing experience.

Simon: We’re also exploring live Q&A sessions, where writers can ask questions and share how they’ve applied the principles we discuss. It’s exciting to see a community forming around these ideas.

Suzanne: Ultimately, we want every writer to realize they’re not powerless. They can create not only their stories but also their success.

Nina: That’s such an inspiring message. Any final thoughts for writers who might be hesitant to explore this side of writing?

Suzanne: Just start listening with an open mind. You don’t have to “believe” in anything right away — just try applying one idea and see what shifts.

Simon: Yes. Writing is already an act of creation — you’re manifesting something that didn’t exist before. This podcast helps you see that same creative power working in every area of your writing life.

Nina: Beautifully said. Thank you both.

Watch: New episodes of The Law of Attraction for Writers Podcast drop every Tuesday on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/@LawofAttractionforWritersPodca

Follow Suzanne Lieurance and Simon Rose for practical, inspiring ways to align your mindset, energy, and creativity — and manifest the writing life you’ve always imagined.

Book Review: “The Greenling”—When Nature Uses Biosemiosis To Change the World

November 2, 2025November 6, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

The Greenling by David Booram is an exploration of an intriguing ‘Nature evolving’ premise, told through a coming-of-age narrative.

Responding to continued human tampering, a growing sentient Nature calls a young environmental activist to action in a planetary reset. The main character is Noah, ostracized by her peers due to her unique perspective on the world and her activism for Nature. This makes her a candidate for Nature’s planetary reset.

While I felt that the story used over-simplified fantasm and eco-terrorism in a way not to my liking, I found most intriguing Booram’s use of biosemiosis, the notion that all life finds meaning.

Coincidently, I had agreed to read Booram’s eco-fiction novel (without knowing much about it) after a social media conversation we’d had during a time when I was working on my most recent novel, tentatively called (Re)Genesis. My novel relied heavily on the concept of biosemiosis. Its premise of dark karma—when Nature learns to reflect back what we send out—made use of real examples of learning, pattern recognition, anticipation and adaptation in non-human life. (Another coincidence at this same time occurred when another author approached me to read their work on coincidence, which I am currently reading).

In the 1930s, Jakob von Uexküll coined the term Umwelt (species-specific reality or subjective environment) to define a life process that involved semiotic interactions. He argued that an organism’s behaviour results from activity that attributes meaning to the world around it, rather than merely mechanically reacting to stimuli. Building on this notion, Friedrich S. Rothschild coined the term “biosemiosis” in 1962 to postulate that life has its subjective interpretation of the world around it (its Umwelt), a segment of the world that has significance and meaning based on that life’s biology and needs. Developing biosemiosis further, Thomas Sebeok later contended that all organisms are enveloped in a cloud of messages about themselves and their situation, which they constantly transmit, receive, and interpret. Life itself is a process of signification and meaning-making, from bacteria and plants to mammals and birds. Biosemiosis involves pattern recognition, anticipation, flexibility, goal-directed movement, memory, and learning.

Perhaps most intriguing is how The Greenling touches on humanity’s growing zeitgeist of not just planetary awareness but of sensibility, a sense that we are interlinked with all other life and nonlife, that we are all more than the sum of our parts. And only then—when we make meaning of our Umwelt—can we transcend from our toxic insecurities and bullying ways.

The Greenling is worth reading for how it weaves climate facts into compelling personal story. I also find refreshing that Booram gives full agency to the environment, Nature, and its nonhuman representatives.

I have been writing, reading, and studying eco-fiction for several decades and what I found noteworthy is how agency of the environment, as character, has changed over the years and how Nature’s portrayal has evolved from ‘other’ with little agency to ‘not other’ with much agency. For more on this concept and change, I urge you to read my two essays on this evolution:

“The Use of Character-Coupling in Eco-Literature to Give Voice to the Other, Part 1: Introduction”

“The Use of Character-Coupling in Eco-Literature to Give Voice to the Other, Part 2: Types of Character-Coupling in Seven Examples of Eco-Literature”

David Booram is the cofounder and director of Fall Creek Abbey, an urban retreat center in Indianapolis, where he and his wife Beth lead The School of Spiritual Direction and offer individual and group spiritual direction. He is the founder of Direction 4 Life Work, through which he is a career counselor.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Returning Home…

October 19, 2025October 20, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / 2 Comments

*Nina stands next to a giant redcedar, BC (photo by Anne Voute)*

It’s been a few months since I moved back to British Columbia from Ontario.

I don’t have a place to live yet (currently crashing at a friend’s place, thanks to her kindness), but it feels right. And, more importantly, it feels like home.

*Nina, early days in BC (photo H. Klassen)*

I first came to BC over five decades ago, shortly after I graduated from Concordia University in Montreal. I started my first teaching job at the University of Victoria on Vancouver Island, first worked as an environmental consultant in Richmond, met my husband-to-be in Vancouver, wrote and published my first novel in Delta and raised my son in the village of Ladner, overlooking the Fraser River Estuary. I have deep nurturing roots here with family and friends. And wonderful memories.

*Various winter scenes in Ontario (photos by Nina Munteanu)*

*Nina ‘snowbear’ enjoys a winter storm, ON (photo by M. Cox)*

*Hayes Line Road in the colours of autumn, ON (photo by NIna Munteanu)*

As the seasons progress, I find that I do miss aspects of Ontario. I left behind a rich environment that closely reflected where I’d grown up as a kid, in the Eastern Townships of Quebec: the cold crisp snowy winters and colourful windy autumns of maple-beech forests. These feel like home too. I spent many days driving the country roads of the Kawarthas without a map, looking for adventure and a cup of good coffee at the end of it. In winter, I daily walked through knee-deep snow in magical forests, snow glinting under the moonlight. I frequented several favourite forests over the seasons, some old-growth like the Catchacoma old-growth hemlock forest, the Mark S. Burnham Maple-Beech-Hemlock-Cedar forest, the pine-cedar mixed forest of Jackson Creek, the Trent Nature Sanctuary cedar-pine mixed forest and the South Drumlin Maple-Beech forest. These, I will miss. They were a life-line to a sacred and holy part of my existence.

Nina studies a lilac bush, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I am building new memories of this new-old home, with more mature eyes and mind. When I left BC 15 years ago after my divorce, and son studying at university, to seek adventure across Canada (I spent several years on the east coast in Nova Scotia), I finally settled in Ontario, where I found fulfillment teaching at the University of Toronto. It was there, in Ontario, where I honed my ecological knowledge and rekindled my love for lichen and fungi. I immersed myself in their study and rediscovered a fascinating miniature world. I studied trees with more diligence, identifying virtually all the key species in the Carolinian forests I visited—and the fungi and lichens that grew on them and around them. I’ve become something of an expert in lichenology, able to identify many of the species I encounter, and also to understand their complex and fascinating ecology.

*Various lichens, from top left*: Punctellia reducta, Xanthoria elegans, Rizocarpon geographicum, Cladonia uncialis, *and* Cladonia pyxidata *(photos by Nina Munteanu)*

I now bring that new knowledge and appreciation back to coastal BC—my old and new home— with an excitement for more adventure in its magnificent rainforests, its small rural communities and coastal villages—and the cup of coffee at the end of it.

Port Renfrew, BC (photo by Nina Munteanu)

*Nina checks her camera, Highland Creek, ON (photo by M. Cox)*

p.s. When you know what to look for, you will see it; not before. That’s likely a tautology; but I found that it has applied to me over the years. And nowhere has it been more obvious to me than in my travels across Canada. My first trip across Canada was five decades ago, as a young sprite, heading west to do my PhD. I went by train and, though I saw much beauty, it passed me at speed. When I drove east to the coast, I recall lots and lots of trees, little else. But, my recent trip west from Ontario was landmarked with a new knowledge and appreciation for so many more layers of my environment; it became eye-opening. What I’d only remembered in the past as “so many trees”, became a fractal journey through boreal layers. I saw so much! I discovered so many ‘friends’: lichens, trees, rock formations, environments that I’d identified in my previous adventures. I became excited by it all. I was in a constant state of wonder. This was how I needed to see Canada. With a wide-open mind and the spirit of adventure.

I look forward to re-immersing myself in these coastal BC ecosystems with that same new understanding, and better informed eyes and mind.

Let it be.

*Heron oversees activities in Ladner Marsh, BC (photo by NIna Munteanu)*

Nina walks Highland Creek, ON (photos by M. Cox)

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her latest novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Nina Munteanu Identified as a Leading Voice in Eco-SciFi Fiction

September 7, 2025June 11, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Inventor/author Kyo Hwang Cho recently identified Nina Munteanu, Kim Stanley Robinson, Jeff VanderMeer, and Richard Powers as Leading Voices in Eco-Science Fiction in an article on the LinkedIn Skyhome Newsletter.

Cho wrote:

Kim Stanley Robinson: Robinson is renowned for integrating ecological themes into his narratives. His works like The Ministry for the Future and the Mars Trilogy explore climate change, sustainability, and alternative socio-economic systems. His stories often centre around scientists striving for environmental reform.

Jeff VanderMeer: Best known for the Southern Reach Trilogy, beginning with Annihilation, VanderMeer delves into a nature-reclaimed mystery zone called Area X. His work blends ecological concerns with surreal and speculative storytelling, offering a unique lens on environmental collapse.

Richard Powers: While not strictly a science fiction author, Powers’s novels such as The Overstory and Playground revolve around nature’s impact on human lives and vice versa. His writing emphasizes the deep interconnectedness of species and ecosystems.

Nina Munteanu: A Canadian ecologist and writer, Munteanu’s stories explore how humans interact with the environment. Her narratives often examine the intersection of science, climate crisis, and spiritual transformation.

Cho included the following Noteworthy Eco-Science Fiction Works:

“The Ministry for the Future”: A speculative exploration of global climate crisis responses through policy, activism, and emergent technology.
“Annihilation”: A surreal expedition into a wilderness zone that defies scientific explanation, echoing the unpredictability of nature itself.
“The Overstory”: A web of interconnected lives bound by trees, showing how the natural world can act as both witness and protagonist. [Inclusion of this book in the eco-SciFi subgenre is a stretch: however, like my own book, there are elements of speculation, and some subtle fantastical elements that one can argue place it in a scifi setting]
“A Diary in the Age of Water”: A dystopian look at a future shaped by water scarcity, societal collapse, and ecological memory.

Cho defines Eco-SciFi this way: “Eco-SciFi is a subgenre of SciFi that foregrounds ecological consciousness, blending speculative fiction with climate science, ethics, and planetary survival.” He includes a table that distinguishes Eco-SciFi from traditional Sci-Fi in several core areas from core theme, tone and motivation to protagonists and ‘message.’

Through the Portal Anthology Wins BC Writers Award

August 28, 2025August 26, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / 2 Comments

On August 23, 2025, Through the Portal: Tales for a Hopeful Dystopia, edited by Lynn Hutchinson Lee and Nina Munteanu for Exile Editions, won the BC Sunshine Coast Award for 2025.

The fiction prize was award to Exile Edition’s 20^th anthology along with three other fiction works that include Blackheart Man by Nalo Hopkinson, The Cipher by Genni Gunn, and Inside Outside by Faye Arcand.

Here is what the judges said about Through the Portal:

“Every story in here is a delicious short gem.”

“An ambitious project with an unusual slant of positivity in the face of a dystopian future has turned into a solid piece of work, incorporating a good range of stories, some very literary and abstract, others simple tales of destruction and regrowth or the hope of regrowth.”

“Characters and situations in the selected stories show optimism and the power of the human spirit across a wide array of possible near- and far-term futures.”

“Most of the situations are inherently believable based on what we know about climate, industry, and the powerful politics of denialism.”

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

My Short Story “The Polywater Equation” (Die Polywasser-Gleichung) in “Tales of Science II” Anthology

July 13, 2025June 5, 2025 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Author Nina Munteanu holding copy of Tales of Science II (photo by Jane Raptor)*

A few weeks ago, I looked into my mail box and found my contributor’s copy of “Tales of Science II” Anthology (edited by Marianne Labisch & Kiran Ramakrishnan) with my short story Die Polywasser-Gleichung (“The Polywater Equation”) inside. Beaming, I did a little dance because the anthology was marvelous looking! And it was all in German! (My mother is German, so I could actually read it; bonus!).

This science-fiction anthology, for which I was invited to contribute, collected seventeen short stories, all based on sound science. Here’s how the book jacket blurb (translated from German) describes the anthology:

It’s all just fiction. Someone made it up; it has nothing to do with reality, right? Well, in this anthology, there’s at least a grain of truth in all the stories, because scientific sponsors collaborated with authors. Here, they looked into the future based on current research What does such an experiment look like? See for yourself what the authors and scientific sponsors have come up with: about finding a way to communicate with out descendants, finding the ideal partner, conveying human emotions to an AI, strange water phenomena [that’s my story], unexpected research findings, lonely bots, and much more. The occasion for this experiment is the 20^th anniversary of the microsystems technology cluster microTEC Südwest e. V.

(cover image and illustrations by Mario Franke and Uli Benkick)

In our initial correspondence, editor Marianne Labisch mentioned that they were “looking for short stories by scientists based on their research but ‘spun on’ to create a science fiction story;” she knew I was a limnologist and was hoping I would contribute something about water. I was glad to oblige her, having some ideas whirling in my head already. That is how “The Polywater Equation” (Die Polywasser-Gleichung) was born.

I’d been thinking of writing something that drew on my earlier research on patterns of colonization by periphyton (attached algae, mostly diatoms) in streams using concepts of fluid mechanics. Elements that worked themselves into the story and the main character, herself a limnologist, reflected some aspects of my own conflicts as a scientist interpreting algal and water data (you have to read the story to figure that out).

The *Diatom Forest, (illustration by Nina Munteanu used in Dutch journal H2O)*

My Work with Periphyton

As I mentioned, the short story drew on my scientific work, which you can read about in the scientific journal Hydrobiologia. I was studying the community structure of periphyton (attached algae) that settled on surfaces in freshwater streams. My study involved placing glass slides in various locations in my control and experimental streams and in various orientations (parallel or facing the current), exposing them to colonizing algae. What I didn’t expect to see was that the community colonized the slides in a non-random way. What resulted was a scientific paper entitled “the effect of current on the distribution of diatoms settling on submerged glass slides.”

A. Distribution of diatoms on a submerged glass slide parallel to the current; treated diatom frustules are white on a dark background. B. diagram of water movement around a submerged glass slide showing laminar flow on the inner face and turbulent flow on the edges (micrograph photo and illustration by Nina Munteanu)

For more details of my work with periphyton, you can go to my article called Championing Change. How all this connects to the concept of polywater is something you need to read in the story itself.

The Phenomenon of Polywater

The phenomenon started well before the 1960s, with a 19^th century theory by Lord Kelvin (for a detailed account see The Rise and Fall of Polywater in Distillations Magazine). Kelvin had found that individual water droplets evaporated faster than water in a bowl. He also noticed that water in a glass tube evaporated even more slowly. This suggested to Kelvin that the curvature of the water’s surface affected how quickly it evaporated.

*Soviet chemist Boris Deryagin peers through a microscope in his lab*

In the 1960s, Nikolai Fedyakin picked up on Lord Kelvin’s work at the Kostroma Technological Institute and through careful experimentation, concluded that the liquid at the bottom of the glass tube was denser than ordinary water and published his findings. Boris Deryagin, director of the Institute of Physical Chemistry in Moscow, was intrigued and his team confirmed that the substance at the bottom of the glass tube was denser and thicker than ordinary water and had additional anomalous properties. This phase of water had a thick, gel-like consistency; it also had a higher stability, like a polymer, over bulk water. It demonstrated a lower freezing point, a higher boiling point, and much higher density and viscosity than ordinary water. It expanded more than ordinary water when heated and bent light differently. Deryagin became convinced that this “modified water” was the most thermodynamically stable form of water and that any water that came into contact with it would become modified as well. In 1966, Deryagin shared his work in a paper entitled “Effects of Lyophile Surfaces on the Properties of Boundary Liquid Films.” British scientist Brian Pethica confirmed Deryagin’s findings with his own experiments—calling the odd liquid “anomalous water”—and published in Nature. In 1969, Ellis Lippincott and colleagues published their work using spectroscopic evidence of this anomalous water, showing that it was arranged in a honeycomb-shaped network, making a polymer of water—and dubbed it “polywater.” Scientists proposed that instead of the weak Van der Waals forces that normally draw water molecules together, the molecules of ‘polywater’ were locked in place by stronger bonds, catalyzed somehow by the nature of the surface they were adjacent to.

This sparked both excitement and fear in the scientific community, press and the public. Industrialists soon came up with ways to exploit this strange state of water such as an industrial lubricant or a way to desalinate seawater. Scientists further argued for the natural existence of ‘polywater’ in small quantities by suggesting that this form of water was responsible for the ability of winter wheat seeds to survive in frozen ground and how animals can lower their body temperature below zero degrees Celsius without freezing.

When one scientist discounted the phenomenon and blamed it on contamination by the experimenters’ own sweat, the significance of the results was abandoned in the Kuddelmuddel of scientific embarrassment. By 1973 ‘polywater’ was considered a joke and an example of ‘pathological science.’ This, despite earlier work by Henniker and Szent-Györgyi, which showed that water organized itself close to surfaces such as cell membranes. Forty years later Gerald Pollack at the University of Washington identified a fourth phase of water, an interfacial water zone that was more stable, more viscous and more ordered, and, according to biochemist Martin Chaplin of South Bank University, also hydrophobic, stiffer, more slippery and thermally more stable. How was this not polywater?

The Polywater Equation

In my story, which takes place in Berlin, 2045, retired limnologist Professor Engel grapples with a new catastrophic water phenomenon that looks suspiciously like the original 1960s polywater incident:

The first known case of polywater occurred on June 19, 2044 in Newark, United States. Housewife Doris Buchanan charged into the local Water Department office on Broad Street with a complaint that her faucet had clogged up with some kind of pollutant. She claimed that the faucet just coughed up a blob of gel that dangled like clear snot out of the spout and refused to drop. Where was her water? she demanded. She’d paid her bill. But when she showed them her small gel sample, there was only plain liquid water in her sample jar. They sent her home and logged the incident as a prank. But then over fifty turbines of the combined Niagara power plants in New York and Ontario ground to a halt as everything went to gel; a third of the state and province went dark. That was soon followed by a near disaster at the Pickering Nuclear Generating Station in Ajax, Ontario when the cooling water inside a reactor vessel gummed up, and the fuel rods—immersed in gel instead of cooling water—came dangerously close to overheating, with potentially catastrophic results. Luckily, the gel state didn’t last and all went back to normal again.

If you read German, you can pick up a copy of the anthology in Dussmann das KulturKaufhaus or Thalia, both located in Berlin but also available through their online outlets. You’ll have to wait to read the English version; like polywater, it’s not out yet.

References:

Chaplin, Martin. 2015. “Interfacial water and water-gas interfaces.” Online: “Water Structure and Science”: http://www1.lsbu.ac.uk/water/interfacial_water.html

Chaplin, Martin. 2015. “Anomalous properties of water.” Online: “Water Structure and Science: http://www1.lsbu.ac.uk/water/water_anomalies.html

Henniker, J.C. 1949. “The depth of the surface zone of a liquid”. Rev. Mod. Phys. 21(2): 322–341.

Kelderman, Keene, et. al. 2022. “The Clean Water Act at 50: Promises Half Kept at the Half-Century Mark.” Environmental Integrity Project (EIP). March 17. 75pp.

Munteanu, N. & E. J. Maly, 1981. The effect of current on the distribution of diatoms settling on submerged glass slides. Hydrobiologia 78: 273–282.

Munteanu, Nina. 2016. “Water Is…The Meaning of Water.” Pixl Press, Delta, BC. 584 pp.

Pollack, Gerald. 2013. “The Fourth Phase of Water: Beyond Solid, Liquid and Vapor.” Ebner & Sons Publishers, Seattle WA. 357 pp.

Ramirez, Ainissa. 2020. “The Rise and Fall of Polywater.” Distillations Magazine, February 25, 2020.

Szent-Györgyi, A. 1960. “Introduction to a Supramolecular Biology.” Academic Press, New York. 135 pp.

Roemer, Stephen C., Kyle D. Hoagland, and James R. Rosowski. 1984. “Development of a freshwater periphyton community as influenced by diatom mucilages.” Can. J. Bot. 62: 1799-1813.

Schwenk, Theodor. 1996. “Sensitive Chaos.” Rudolf Steiner Press, London. 232 pp.

Szent-Györgyi, A. 1960. “Introduction to a Supramolecular Biology.” Academic Press, New York. 135 pp.

Wilkens, Andreas, Michael Jacobi, Wolfram Schwenk. 2005. “Understanding Water”. Floris Books, Edinburgh. 107 pp.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.