Why Writing and Reading Eco-Fiction Will Save the World—From CliFi to Solarpunk

August 25, 2024August 28, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Fence and post at marsh during a rain, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

The Universe is made of stories, not atoms—Muriel Rukeyser

Canadian writer Mary Woodbury tells us 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. In fact, it can stir environmental action.” A survey she took in 2020 showed that “88% of its participants were inspired to act after reading ecological 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, either as premise or as character. “Principled by real science and exalting our planet’s beauty, these stories are works of art. They live within classic modes of fiction exploring the human condition, but also integrate the wild,” writes Woodbury. At the heart of eco-fiction are strong relationships forged between the major character on a journey and an aspect of their environment and place. Environment and place can illuminate through the sub-text of metaphor a core aspect of the main character and their journey.

*Green architecture design by Vincent Callebaut*

All great literature distills its art form through the exploration of relationship: our relationship with technology, with science, Nature, God, our children, each other, our history. Science fiction illuminates our history and our very humanity by examining our interaction with “the other”—the unfamiliar, the feared, the often downtrodden, the invisible, the ignored. This is the hero’s journey. And it is through this journey relating to the “other” (whether it’s Earth or an alien planet, its water, environment and issues, and its varied peoples and cultures) that our hero discovers herself and her gift to the world. When will we stop portraying Nature as “other”?…

*Green neighbourhood design by Vincent Callebaut*

We currently live in a world in which climate change and associated water crisis pose a very real existential threat to most life currently on the planet. The new normal is change. And it is within this changing climate that eco-fiction is realizing itself as a literary pursuit worth engaging in. The emergence of the term eco-fiction as a brand of literature suggests that we are all awakening—novelists and readers of novels—to our changing environment. We are finally ready to see and portray environment as an interesting character with agency and to read this important and impactful literature.

*Lavender farm and house design by Vincent Callebaut*

Many readers are currently seeking fiction that describes environmental issues but also explores a successful paradigm shift: fiction that accurately addresses our current issues with intelligence and hope. This is reflected in the growing popularity of several emerging sub-genres of fiction such as solar punk, optimistic climate fiction, clifi, eco-lit, hope punk, and others. The power of envisioning a certain future is that the vision enables one to see it as possible. Eco-fiction—and all good science fiction—uses metaphor to study the world and the consequences of humanity’s actions through microcosmic dramatization. What makes this literature particularly exciting is: 1) its relevance to our current existential situation; and 2) that it often provides a way forward.

*Solarpunk world imagined (image by Imperial Boy)*

The Way Forward with Solarpunk

In his 2014 article “Solarpunk: Notes toward a manifesto” in Hieroglyph Adam Flynn writes of under-30 futurists: “Many of us feel it’s unethical to bring children into a world like ours. We have grown up under a shadow, and if we sometimes resemble fungus it should be taken as a credit to our adaptability.”

“We’re solarpunks because the only other options are denial or despair.”
ADAM FLYNN

Solarpunk, says Flynn, “is about finding ways to make life more wonderful for us now, and more importantly for the generations that follow us—i.e., extending human life at the species level, rather than individually.” Our future, asserts Flynn, “must involve repurposing and creating new things from what we already have (instead of 20^thcentury “destroy it all and build something completely different” modernism).” Solarpunk futurism “is not nihilistic like cyberpunk and it avoids steampunk’s potentially quasi-reactionary tendencies: it is about ingenuity, generativity, independence, and community.”

*“Hydrogenase” algae-powered airships by Vincent Callebaut*

The ‘punk’ suffix comes from the oppositional quality of solarpunk; opposition that begins with infrastructure as a form of resistance. Flynn tells us that solarpunk draws on the ideal of Jefferson’s yeoman farmer, Ghandi’s ideal of swadeshi, and countless other traditions of innovative dissent.

*“Hyperion” eco-neighbourhood design by Vincent Callebaut*

“Solarpunk is a future with a human face and dirt behind its ears.”
ADAM FLYNN

In response to Flynn’s article, Bob Vanderbob writes, “going solar is a deep mental shift: it will be the central metaphor of our future civilization.”

*Green Paris design by Vincent Callebaut*

Musician photographer Jay Springett calls solarpunk, “a movement in speculative fiction, art, fashion, and activism that seeks to answer and embody the question ‘what does a sustainable civilization look like, and how can we get there?’… At once a vision of the future, a thoughtful provocation, and an achievable lifestyle.” Jennifer Hamilton observes in The Conversation that “as a category of fiction, solarpunk remains a fringe dweller…Nevertheless, the aesthetic sensibilities of the subculture are starting to emerge.” Hamilton asserts that “the focus on the cultural change that will necessarily accompany the full transition to renewable energy is the defining feature of solarpunk.” She adds, “we usually ask ‘can renewables replace fossil fuels?’ … solarpunks ask ‘what kind of world will emerge when we finally transition to renewables?’ and their [works] are generating an intriguing answer.”

*Beach house design by Vincent Callebaut*

How Eco-Fiction Inspires and Galvanizes

Readers responded to Mary Woodbury’s survey question “Do you think that environmental themes in fiction can impact society and if so, how?” with these observations:

Environmental fiction encourages empathy and imagination. Stories can affect us more than dry facts. Fiction reaches us more deeply than academic understanding, moving us to action.

Environmental fiction triggers a sense of wonder about the natural world, and even a sense of loss and mourning. Stories can immerse readers into imagined worlds with environmental issues similar to ours.

Environmental fiction raises awareness, encourages conversations and idea-sharing. Fiction is one way that helps to create a vision of our future. Cautionary tales can nudge people to action and encourage alternative futures. Novels can shift viewpoints without direct confrontation, avoid cognitive dissonance, and invite reframed human-nature relationships through enjoyment and voluntary participation.

Environmental themes can reorient our perspective from egocentrism to the greater-than-human world.

*Dirt road in Kawarthas during a misting rain, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Why Our Stories Are Important

We are all storytellers. We share our curiosity with great expression; our capacity and need to tell stories is as old as our ancient beginnings. From the Palaeolithic cave paintings of Lascaux to our blogs on the Internet, humanity has left a grand legacy of “story” sharing. Evolutionary biologist and futurist Elisabet Sahtouris tells us that, “whether we create our stories from the revelations of religions or the researches of science, or the inspirations of great artists and writers or the experiences of our own lives, we live by the stories we believe and tell to ourselves and others.”

Compelling stories resonate with the universal truths of metaphor that reside within the consciousness of humanity. According to Joseph Campbell, this involves an open mind and a certain amount of humility; and giving oneself to the story … not unlike the hero who gives her life to something larger than herself. Fiction becomes memorable by providing a depth of meaning. Stories move with direction, compel with intrigue and fulfil with awareness and, sometimes, with understanding. The stories that stir our hearts come from deep inside, where the personal meets the universal, through symbols or archetypes and metaphor.

Ultimately, we live by the narratives we share. “What you think, you become,” said Buddha.

In my writing guidebook The Ecology of Story: World as Character, I write: “When a writer is mindful of place in story and not only accurately portrays environment but treats it as a character, then her story will resonate with multilayers of meaning.”

*Poplar stand in the Kawarthas, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Changing the Narrative…

I was recently interviewed by Forrest Brown on Stories for Earth Podcast in which we discussed the need to change our narrative (particularly our colonial neoliberal capitalist narrative) and various ways to do this, taking into account the challenges posed by belief and language. Lessons from our indigenous wise elders will play a key role in our change toward genuine partnership with the Earth.

“We need to have a whole cultural shift, where it becomes our culture to take care of the Earth, and in order to make this shift, we need storytelling about how the Earth takes care of us and how we can take care of her.” ― Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, All We Can Save: Truth, Courage, and Solutions for the Climate Crisis

“This world, in which we are born and taken our being, is alive. It is not our supply house and sewer; it is our larger body. The intelligence that evolved us from stardust and interconnects us with all beings is sufficient for the healing of our Earth community, if we but align with that purpose. Our true nature is far more ancient and encompassing than the separate self defined by habit and society. We are as intrinsic to our living world as the rivers and trees, woven of the same intricate flows of matter/energy and mind. Having evolved us into self-reflexive consciousness, the world can now know itself through us, behold its own majesty, tell its own stories–and also respond to its own suffering.”
JOANNA MACY and CHRIS JOHNSTONE, “Active Hope”

*Swamp forest in Kawartha region, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

References:

Campbell, Joseph, Bill Moyers. 1991. “The Power of Myth.” Anchor. 293pp.

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

Munteanu, Nina. 2019. “The Ecology of Story: World as Character.” Pixl Press, Delta, B.C. 200pp.

Sahtouris, Elisabet. 2014. “Ecosophy: Nature’s Guide to a Better World.” Kosmos, Spring/Summer 2014: 4-9pp.

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.

H2O Publishes my Illustration of the Diatom Forest

August 11, 2024August 30, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

*My original Diatom Forest illustration in my article “Diatom Spring” in The Meaning of Water*

This past spring, Dutch scientist Herman van Dam (Consultancy for Water and Nature) approached me for permission to use my illustration of the diatom forest in a paper he and co-authors were preparing for the Dutch journal H2O. He explained that they wanted to help familiarize water managers who read the journal with the underwater biodiversity for which my illustration would be helpful.

The Illustration

He’d seen my illustration in my article “A Diatom Spring” in The Meaning of Water. Below is a summary of my article about the diatom forest:

Attachment and colonization starts with a ‘clean’ unpopulated surface (usually scoured by turbulence in a storm or some other event or a new surface tumbled into the water). Several stages of succession take place, starting with early colonizers. The adnate Cocconeis placentula, whose frustules attach directly to the substrate, is an example of an early colonizer. When they attach to a substrate they form a biofilm (think moss in a terrestrial forest). Adnate species are eventually overgrown by taxa that produce a mucilaginous pad (e.g. Synedra) or stalk (e.g. Gomphonema). The understory layer is typically occupied by diatoms such as Fragilaria vaucheriae and Synedra radians that attach to the surface at one end (apical) of their rod-shaped frustules using a mucilaginous pad to form “rosettes” that resemble spiky understory shrubs. This allows them to protrude above the adnate taxa and take advantage of more light.

*SEM of* Synedra radians and Fragilaria vaucheriae that form rosettes as they apically attach to substrate (image by Roemer et al., 1984)

The diatoms Cymbella and Gomphonema produce long stalks that attach directly to the surface, allowing them to form a swaying canopy over the lower tier of cells of Fragilaria vaucheriae, Synedra radians and early colonizer Cocconeis placentula whose frustules attach directly to the substrate (think overstory and understory of a terrestrial forest or a marine kelp forest).

The Diatom Forest Structure

Just like trees, the canopy-forming stalked diatoms effectively compete for available light and nutrients in the water with their vertical reach. They provide the ‘overstory’ of the diatom forest’s vertical stratification. These tree-like diatoms also provide an additional surface for other diatoms to colonize (e.g. tiny epiphytic Achnanthes settle on the long stalks of Cymbella, just as lichen does on a tree trunk).

*SEM of three-week colony of* Cymbella affinis (larger diatoms on left) and Gomphonema olivaceum attached via stalks (image from Roemer et al., 1984)

The stalked diatom forest acts like a net, trapping drifting-in euplankton, such as Pediastrum sp. andFragilaria spp., which then decide to stay and settle in with the periphyton community. The mucilage captures and binds detrital particles in both lower and upper stories of the diatom forest; these, in turn, provide nutrients for the diatom forest and additional surfaces for colonization. In their work with periphyton communities, Roemer et al. (1984) found several diatoms (e.g. Diatoma vulgare, Fragilaria spp. Stephanodiscus minutula) entangled in the complex network of cells, stalks, and detritus of the diatom forest’s upper story. They also found rosettes of Synedra radians—like jungle orchids—attached to large clumps of sediment caught by the net of mucilage.

Eventually, ‘overgrowth’ occurs as the periphyton colony matures and grows ‘top-heavy’ with all this networking. The upper story of the community simply sloughs off—usually triggered by turbulence in a river from rains, storms, or dam release. This is similar to a forest fire in the Boreal forest, which creates space and light for new colonization and growth. The dislodged periphyton ride the turbulent flow, temporarily becoming plankton, and those that survive the crashing waters provide “seed” to colonize substrates downstream. Others may get damaged and form the ‘dish soap’ like suds or foam you often see in turbulent water. The proteins, lignins and lipids of the diatoms (and other associated algae) act as surfactants or foaming agents that trap air and form bubbles that stick to each other through surface tension.

*Diatoms, organics and associated detritus forms foamy ‘crema’ on the river (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*Fragmented diatoms and organic material create a surface foam on the river (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

The Paper

The paper was published June 13, 2024, in H2O, written by Jako van der Wal, Joep de Koning and Herman van Dam, and entitled “Snel inzicht in de ecologische waterkwaliteit met diatomeeën” (Quick insight into ecological water quality with diatoms). This paper was right up my alley! As a diatom specialist and limnologist who studied them in relation to environmental conditions and perturbations, I was intrigued by the paper and gained some additional insight on diatom ecology.

Van der Wal et al. cited recent advances in DNA-based identification methods that provide fast and cheap diatom identification over the traditional method of using an optical compound microscope to observe morphological characteristics such as size, shape and ornamentations of the silicified cell wall. I can attest that this is a labour-intensive process in which I spent many hours and days hunched over a microscope during my masters research at Concordia University. This efficient DNA-identification has seen a resurgence of using diatoms as a valuable tool for water quality managers, with applications providing insight into both current and historical water conditions. The authors argue that benthic diatoms or periphyton (living on substrates such as plants, rock, sand and artificial surfaces) have been since the 1980s used as indicators of saproby, trophy, acid and salt character in, among other things, ditches and canals. For every type of water and water quality, there are diatoms that have their habitat there, write the authors. They argue that, unlike phytoplankton, fish and macrofauna, periphyton attach to a surface and hardly move; this means that effects of water quality can be demonstrated locally. Because many diatom species tolerances and intolerances are known and they reproduce quickly (over days), diatoms respond quickly to changes in the environment—much faster (often within weeks) than other ecological indicators.

Scientists and water technicians can use diatom species composition to measure perturbations by organic material, low oxygen content, eutrophication, and toxicity. Given that diatoms colonize and develop quickly, this includes unstable and damaged habitats where other indicators cannot develop, such as shipping traffic, waves or where cleaning or dredging is carried out regularly. Historical insight can be provided by diatoms, given that their silica frustules are naturally preserved in sediment.

My Own Work with Turbulence

*Periphyton biofilm (of mostly diatoms) on microscope slides left in a stream*

During my masters research in several streams in the Eastern Townships, I examined how diatoms colonized artificial substrates; how they formed productive biofilms that sustained an entire periphyton community of attached aquatic life and discovered that their pattern of colonization related to current speed and direction. I submerged glass slides (the kind people use to look at critters under the microscope) in a device in the stream and oriented them parallel or perpendicular to the current.

There are two ways an algal community grows in a new area: (1) by initial colonization and settling; and (2) by reproduction and growth. I studied both by collecting slides exposed for differing lengths of time (collecting young and mature communities) in different seasons.

I discovered that the diatoms colonized these surfaces in weird ways based on micro-turbulence. Early colonizers, like Achnanthes and adnate Cocconeis preferred to settle on the edges of the slides, where the chaos of turbulence ruled over the sheer of laminar flow. They colonized by directly appressing to the substrate, making them the first photosynthetic taxa to establish a biofilm on a clean substrate. Vadeboncoeur and Katona (2022) write that “in waved-washed surfaces, these taxa may be the only algae that persist.” I postulated that the drift velocity was reduced on the slide’s edge, where turbulence was greatest, giving drifting algae a greater chance to collide and settle on the slide over the more shear laminar flow along the slide’s central face.

Once settled, the community was more likely to grow with turbulence. Greater turbulence decreases the diffusion gradient of materials around algal cells, with a higher rate of nutrient uptake and respiration. Turbulence provides greater opportunity to an existing colony by increasing “chaotic” flow, potential collision and exchange. Turbulence is a kind of “stable chaos” that enhances vigor, robustness and communication.

Using Diatoms in Water Quality Assessments

In their paper Van der Wal et al. argued that in environmental assessment the DNA-identification is just one step in a process that looks a population structure and health. Diatoms are already used in 21 of the 27 EU countries as part of a Water Framework Directive (WFD) quality index for flowing waters and in nine EU countries for standing water. Example conditions and associated perturbations where diatoms are a particularly useful indicator include: salinity, acidity, oxygen saturation, organic load (saproby), nutrient richness (trophy), temperature, and toxicity.

Diatom Growth Forms & Deformities

Van der Wal et al. argued that in addition to the different species compositions and the related ecological indices, growth forms and deformations of diatoms are useful indicators of water quality, particularly in relation to specific toxins.

*My illustration adapted for the van der Wal et al. paper in H2O*

Growth forms of diatoms can be described as attached, short-stalked, long-stalked, mobile and living in mucous tubes (Figure 3, van der Wal et al., 2024). Each growth form has advantages and disadvantages. For example, short-stalked diatoms are more difficult to graze and long-stalked diatoms come into contact with more water, from which they can then absorb substances. Long-stalked diatoms can also absorb more light if there is a lot of competition. Mobile diatoms can adapt to changing conditions by, for example, migrating from surface to subsurface and vice versa. Diatoms in slime tubes are more difficult to prey on and respond more slowly to environmental changes.

Two frustules of Navicula *sp; the one on the right shows obvious deformities in the striations of its silica frustule (photo by van* der *Wal, H2O, June 13, 2024)*

According to Van der Wal et al., scientistis (Rimet & Bouchez) noted that long-stalked diatoms declined in waterbodies subjected to various pesticides. Falasco et al. observed diatom deformities when exposed to various toxic substances. Heavy metals were observed to cause deformities in Navicula. Nitrogen toxicity was also implicated in diatom deformities.

*Froth from diatoms and organics on the Otonabee river, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

References:

Falasco, E., Ector, L., Wetzel, C.E., Badino, G. & Bona, F. (2021). “Looking back, looking forward: a review of the new literature on diatom teratological forms (2010-2020).” Hydrobiologia 848: 1675-1753.

Munteanu, N. 2022. “When Diatoms Create a Forest.” https://themeaningofwater.com. December 18, 2022.

Munteanu, N. 2023. “When Diatoms Bloom in Spring.” https://themeaningofwater.com. May 14, 2023.

Munteanu, N. 2023. “A Diatom Spring.” https://themeaningofwater.com. April 16, 2023.

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.

Poikane, S., Kelly, M., & Cantonati, M. (2016). ‘Benthic algal assessment of ecological status in European lakes and rivers: challenges and opportunities’. Science of the Total Environment 568: 603-613.

Rimet, F. & Bouchez, A. (2011). ‘Use of diatom life-forms and ecological guilds to assess pesticide contamination in rivers: Lotic mesocosm approaches’. Ecological Indicators 11: 489-499.

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.

Serôdio, J. & Lavaud, J. (2020). “Diatoms and their ecological importance”. In: Leal Filho, W. et al. (eds). Life below water. Encyclopedia of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (pp.1-9). Springer Nature.

Smolar-Zvanut, Natasa and Matjaz Mikos. “The impact of flow regulation by hydropower dams on the periphyton community in the Soca River, Slovenia. Hydrological Sciences Journal 59 (5): 1032-1045.

Wal, J. van der, Joep de Koning and Herman van Dam. 2024. “Snel inzicht in de ecologische waterkwaliteit met diatomeeën” H2O, 13 June, 2024.

Wood, Allison R. 2016. “Attached Algae as an Indicator of Water Quality: A Study of the Viability of Genomic Taxanomic Methods.” Honors Theses and Capstones. 306. University of New Hampshire Scholars’ Repository.

Zuilichem, H. van, Peeters, E. & Wal, J. van der (2016). “Diatomeeën als indicator voor waterkwaliteit nabij rwzi’s”. H2O-Online, 9 december 2016. https://edepot.wur.nl/401202

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.

Crossing into the Ecotone to Write Meaningful Eco-Fiction

July 21, 2024July 6, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

“If you have an apple and I have an apple and we exchange apples then you and I will still each have one apple. But if you have an idea and I have an idea and we exchange these ideas, then each of us will have two ideas.”—George Bernard Shaw

At Calgary’s When Words Collide some years ago, I moderated a panel on Eco-Fiction with publisher/writer Hayden Trenholm, and writers Michael J. Martineck, Sarah Kades, and Susan Forest. The panel was well attended; panelists and audience discussed and argued what eco-fiction was, its role in literature and storytelling generally, and even some of the risks of identifying a work as eco-fiction.

Someone in the audience brought up the notion that “awareness-guided perception” may suggest an increase of ecological awareness in literature when it is more that readers are just noticing what was always there. Authors agreed and pointed out that environmental fiction has been written for years and it is only now—partly with the genesis of the term eco-fiction—that the “character” and significance of environment is being acknowledged beyond its metaphor; for its actual value. It may also be that the metaphoric symbols of environment in certain classics are being “retooled” through our current awareness much in the same way that Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World or George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty Four are being re-interpreted—and newly appreciated— in today’s world of pervasive surveillance and bio-engineering.

I would submit that if we are noticing it more, we are also writing it more. Artists are cultural leaders and reporters, after all. I shared my own experience in the science fiction classes I was teaching at UofT and George Brown College, in which I noted a trend of increasing “eco-fiction” in the works in progress that students were bringing in to workshop in class. Students were not aware that they were writing eco-fiction, but they were indeed writing it.

I started branding my writing as eco-fiction a few years ago. Prior to that—even though my stories were strongly driven by an ecological premise and strong environmental setting—I described them as science fiction and many as technological thrillers. Environment’s role remained subtle and—at times—insidious. Climate change. Water shortage. Environmental disease. A city’s collapse. War. I’ve used these as backdrops to explore relationships, values (such as honour and loyalty), philosophies, moralities, ethics, and agencies of action. The stuff of storytelling.

Environment, and ecological characteristics were less “theme” than “character,” with which the protagonist and major characters related in important ways.

Just as Bong Joon-Ho’s 2014 science fiction movie Snowpiercer wasn’t so much about climate change as it was about exploring class struggle, the capitalist decadence of entitlement, disrespect and prejudice through the premise of climate catastrophe. Though, one could argue that these form a closed loop of cause and effect (and responsibility).

The self-contained closed ecosystem of the Snowpiercer train is maintained by an ordered social system, imposed by a stony militia. Those at the front of the train enjoy privileges and luxurious living conditions, though most drown in a debauched drug stupor; those at the back live on next to nothing and must resort to savage means to survive. Revolution brews from the back, lead by Curtis Everett (Chris Evans), a man whose two intact arms suggest he hasn’t done his part to serve the community yet.

Minister Mason (Tilda Swinton), an imperious yet simpering figure who serves the ruling class without quite being part of it, reminds the lower class that:

“We must all of us on this train of life remain in our allotted station. We must each of us occupy our preordained particular position. Would you wear a shoe on your head? Of course you wouldn’t wear a shoe on your head. A shoe doesn’t belong on your head. A shoe belongs on your foot. A hat belongs on your head. I am a hat. You are a shoe. I belong on the head. You belong on the foot. Yes? So it is. In the beginning, order was prescribed by your ticket: First Class, Economy, and freeloaders like you…Now, as in the beginning, I belong to the front. You belong to the tail. When the foot seeks the place of the head, the sacred line is crossed. Know your place. Keep your place. Be a shoe.”

Ecotones are places where “lines are crossed,” where barriers are breached, where “words collide” and new opportunities arise. Sometimes from calamity. Sometimes from tragedy. Sometimes from serendipity.

When environment shapes a story as archetype—hero, victim, trickster, shadow or shape shifter—we get strong eco-fiction. Good eco-fiction, like any good story, explores the choices we make and the consequences of those choices. Good eco-fiction ventures into the ecotone of overlap, collision, exchange and ultimate change.

In my non-fiction book Water Is… I define an ecotone as the transition zone between two overlapping systems. It is essentially where two communities exchange information and integrate. Ecotones typically support varied and rich communities, representing a boiling pot of two colliding worlds. An estuary—where fresh water meets salt water. The edge of a forest with a meadow. The shoreline of a lake or pond.

For me, this is a fitting metaphor for life, given that the big choices we must face usually involve a collision of ideas, beliefs, lifestyles or worldviews: these often prove to enrich our lives the most for having gone through them. Evolution (any significant change) doesn’t happen within a stable system; adaptation and growth occur only when stable systems come together, disturb the equilibrium, and create opportunity. Good social examples include a close friendship or a marriage in which the process of “I” and “you” becomes a dynamic “we” (the ecotone) through exchange and reciprocation. Another version of Bernard Shaw’s quote, above, by the Missouri Pacific Agriculture Development Bulletin reads: “You have an idea. I have an idea. We swap. Now, you have two ideas and so do I. Both are richer. What you gave you have. What you got I did not lose. This is cooperation.” This is ecotone.

I think we are seeing more eco-fiction out there because ecosystems, ecology and environment are becoming more integral to story: as characters in their own right. I think we are seeing more eco-fiction out there because we are ready to see it. Just as quantum physics emerged when it did and not sooner, an idea—a thought—crystalizes when we are ready for it.

Don’t stay a shoe … go find an ecotone. Then write about it.

*Thirty-Six Eco-Fiction Books Worth Reading…*

Movie Review: The Pandemic of “World War Z”

July 14, 2024July 14, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

I don’t watch zombie movies.

I steer away from them. I find them generally tasteless, unimaginative and lacking anything remotely connected to “story”. Most appear, at least from their trailers, to focus on violence and gore with little interest in anything else (what could be more gruesome than a person stalking then eating another?).

*Zombies form an ‘ant hill’ as they climb the wall into a* *captive city*

As a writer of science fiction and fantasy and avid fan of this genre in motion pictures, I lamented that zombies had become the “in thing” in stories and film these days. We’d just gotten over werewolves and vampires. Now I felt doomed by an infestation of the “undead”. I mean, how many ways can you portray such listless deadbeats?

then there’s the action thriller “World War Z”. Despite my intrigue with the trailer, it took my trusted friend’s insistence for me to go see it.

I was vindicated in my trust of her good taste.

“World War Z” is not your typical zombie movie. In fact, to call it a zombie movie is to fail to acknowledge the deeper thematic reflections portrayed. What struck most was that this action thriller focused less on what zombies did (all that missing blood and gore that some reviewers lamented over gave me relief and gratitude) than on the effect of a plague that turned most of humanity into them. It actually had a story! While the motion picture apparently honoured the iconic lore and criteria established in the zombie mythos, director Marc Forster and screen writers J. Michael Straczynski and Matthew Michael Carnahan (based on the book by Max Brooks) cleverly did not let themselves be limited by it. In fact, zombies per se serve more as plot tools in a far more interesting and deeper story arc and theme.

I’m referring to the subtle notes of ecology, biology and co-evolution interlaced throughout this visually stunning and rather disturbing film. What happens when you disturb Nature? The opening titles and scenes show a montage of curious and subtly dark reflections on the consequences of our general indifference to Nature and her growing unbalanced ecosystems. “Mother Nature is a serial killer,” virologist Andrew Fassbach tells our hero during his first—and last—ten minutes on screen. During that short time they spend together, Fassbach shares some key insights into how Gaia plays. And she doesn’t always play “fair”. Fassbach also tells us that this zombie plague started with a virus. Which brings up some interesting questions. Was it an “intelligent virus”, manufactured and introduced? Did the virus co-evolve with some organism as an aggressive symbiont and was spontaneously triggered by a disturbance? What was that disturbance and was it an accident or a mistake? How did it come to be?

In a 2020 interview with Yahoo Entertainment, Max Brooks (the author of the bestselling book of the same name) shared how uncannily similar the WWZ was to the Corona Virus (COVID-19) outbreak:

“Similarities between Brooks’s imagined outbreak, a virus called solanum (first introduced in 2003’s Zombie Survival Guide) and the coronavirus are uncanny. Never mind that Brooks has said he was using the novel to generally comment on government ineptitude and U.S. isolationism.

Patient Zero was in China. The virus is eventually nicknamed “African Rabies,” which sounds an awfully lot like “The Chinese Virus.” The U.S. greatly downplayed the severity of its threat and reacted too slowly, likely in part because it was an election year. Check. There was a much hyped-treatment that was ultimately ineffective (hello, hydroxychloroquine).”

“I was just being historically accurate,” says Brooks. “I wasn’t looking forward, I was looking back. Everything that’s happening today has already happened throughout history. Pandemics tend to come in very predictable cycles. And everything that is happening today happened with SARS, happened with AIDS, even happened with Ebola.”

I also didn’t fail to notice the reference to swarming ant colonies in the title montage that foreshadowed a later scene of zombies piling onto each other on the walls of Jerusalem in a frenzied search for warm bodies to eat. This is clearly a film about Nature’s powers and mysteries. You can be sure that questions about what triggered and defined the zombie plague will be addressed in the sequel, already scheduled. Because, like any serial killer, Mother Nature wants to be caught, says Fassbach.

*Swarming zombies form ‘ant hill’ as they climb a walled city*

Co-Evolution & Symbiogenesis

Which brings me to what this film really touches on: how Mother Nature takes care of herself and her own… whether we like it or not. The key is evolution and something called co-evolution: this is when two normal aggressors cooperate in an evolutionary partnership to benefit each other. Ehrlich and Raven coined co-evolution to explain how butterflies and their host plants developed in parallel. I wrote about it in an earlier post called “Co-evolution: Cooperation & Aggressive Symbiosis”

Virologist Frank Ryan calls co-evolution “a wonderful marriage in nature—a partnership in which the definition of predator and prey blurs, until it seems to metamorphose to something altogether different.” Co-evolution is now an established theme in the biology of virus-host relationships. The ecological “home” of the virus is the genome of any potential host and scientists have remained baffled by the overwhelming evidence for ‘accommodation’.

*Brad Pitt’s character running with soldiers from zombie onslaught*

“Today…every monkey, baboon, chimpanzee and gorilla is carrying at least ten different species of symbiotic viruses,” says Ryan.

“Why,” asks Ryan, “is co-evolution [and its partner, symbiosis] such a common pattern in nature?” Ryan coined the term “genomic intelligence” to explain the form of intelligence exerted by viruses and the capacity of the genome to be both receptive and responsive to nature. It involves an incredible interaction between the genetic template and nature that governs even viruses. Symbiosis and natural selection need not be viewed as mutually contradictory. Russian biologists, Andrei Famintsyn and Konstantine Merezhkovskii invented the term “symbiogenesis” to explain the fantastic synthesis of new living organisms from symbiotic unions. Citing the evolution of mitochondria and the chloroplast within a primitive host cell to form the more complex eukaryotic cell (as originally theorized by Lynn Margulis), Ryan noted that “it would be hard to imagine how the step by step gradualism of natural selection could have resulted in this brazenly passionate intercourse of life!”

*Brad Pitt’s character fighting for his life*

Aggressive Symbiosis

In his book, “Virus X” Dr. Frank Ryan coined the term “aggressive symbiont” to explain a common form of symbiosis where one or both symbiotic partners demonstrates an aggressive and potentially harmful effect on the other’s competitor or potential predator. Examples abound, but a few are worth mentioning here. In the South American forests, a species of acacia tree produces a waxy berry of protein at the ends of its leaves that provides nourishment for the growing infants of the ant colony residing in the tree. The ants, in turn not only keep the foliage clear of herbivores and preying insects through a stinging assault, but they make hunting forays into the wilderness of the tree, destroying the growing shoots of potential rivals to the acacia. Viruses commonly form “aggressive symbiotic” relationships with their hosts, one example of which is the herpes-B virus, Herpesvirus saimiri, and the squirrel monkey (the virus induces cancer in the competing marmoset monkey). Ryan suggests that the Ebola and hantavirus outbreaks follow a similar pattern of “aggressive symbiosis”. All you need is a perceived hostile trigger. A disturbance in an otherwise balanced ecosystem, for instance.

Aggressive Symbiosis & Human History

The historian, William H. McNeill, suggested that a form of “aggressive symbiosis” played a key role in the history of human civilization. “At every level of organization—molecular, cellular, organismic, and social—one confronts equilibrium [symbiotic] patterns. Within such equilibria, any alteration from ‘outside’ tends to provoke compensatory changes [aggressive symbiosis] throughout the system to minimize overall upheaval.”

So…what triggered the zombie plague of “World War Z”? And how will humanity prevail in this new paradigm of nature? The sequel (which I haven’t watched) may provide some answers. Check out author Max Brooks’s interview with Yahoo (link above) for some ideas.

Sound & Fury Reviews “A Diary in the Age of Water” by Nina Munteanu

July 7, 2024June 8, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

I recently came across this beautiful Instagram post by TinasAlwaysReading, and was reminded of a wonderfully in-depth review of my eco-fiction novel A Diary in the Age of Water that Tina did on Sound & Fury Book Reviews.

You can watch the review below:

Sound & Fury reviews “A Diary in the Age of Water” by Nina Munteanu

My Journey with Water: Nina Munteanu Talks to the Toronto Probus Group

June 23, 2024June 25, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*People reading “Water Is…”* *in Vancouver and Toronto*

Margaret McCaffery, chair of the PROBUS Toronto Speakers Committee invited me some time ago to speak to their club in June of 2024 on my experience with water: as scientist, mother, and environmentalist. The audience was mostly retired professional and business people with enquiring minds. I gave my Powerpoint talk in the Holy Rosary Parish Hall on St. Clair West and then enjoyed a vigorous session of challenging and interesting questions to which I responded with equal vigour.

Here is the blurb for the presentation:

Canadian limnologist Nina Munteanu explores the many dimensions of water through her journey with water as mother, educator, and scientist. She describes an emotional connection with nature that compels us to take care of our environment with love versus a sense of duty.

Nina’s talk draws on her book Water Is… The Meaning of Water, part history, part science and part philosophy and spirituality. The book examines water’s many anomalous properties and what these meant to us. In sharing her personal journey with this mysterious elixir, Nina explores water’s many ‘identities’ and, ultimately, our own. Water Is… was Margaret Atwood’s first choice in the 2016 New York Times ‘Year in Reading.’ Water is… will be available for sale at the talk.

*I started with my story as a child, growing up in the Eastern Townships of Canada*

*I defined “limnology” and talked about my career as a limnologist* *and environmental consultant*

*I discussed some of water’s anomalous properties, all life-giving*

*I brought in some interesting things about water…*

*I tied my journey with water to family and friends and my watershed*

*I ended my talk with a discussion of the Watermark Project to catalogue significant stories to water bodies all over the world*

I also brought my latest eco-clifi novel A Diary in the Age of Water for sale. It interested quite a few people and generated several wonderful discussions.

*Nina Munteanu and her latest eco-novel*

“Robin’s Last Song” at Climate Imaginarium in New York City’s Governor’s Island

May 16, 2024May 16, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

My short story Robin’s Last Song was selected by the NYC Climate Writers Collective as part of an exhibition in the Climate Imaginarium on Governors Island in New York. The exhibition, starting May 18, will run throughout the summer of 2024.

Robin’s Last Song

Robin’s Last Song first appeared in the #128 Issue of Apex Magazine in 2021. It tells the story of Robin, a blind elder whose digital app failed to warn the world of the sudden global loss of birds with disastrous ecological consequences. After years of living in self-exile and getting around poorly on sight-enhancing technology, a discovery gives her new hope in rekindling her talents in the field of Soundscape Ecology.

In a recent interview with writer Simon Rose, I described my thoughts in writing Robin’s Last Song:

I wanted to make “Robin’s Last Song” a realizable work of fiction in which science and technology play both instigator of disaster and purveyor of salvation. Our biogenetic technology comes to us as a double-edged sword in the form of gene-editing, proteomics, DNA origami, and CRISPR—just to name a few. These biotechnological innovations promise a cornucopia of enhancements: from increased longevity and health in humans to giant disease-resistant crops. But, for every ‘magic’ in technology, there is often unintended consequence. Unforeseen—or even ignored—casualties and risks. I suppose my ultimate question with this story is: will synthetic biology redesign Nature to suit hubris or serve evolution? Science doesn’t make those decisions. We do.

You can read my interview with Rebecca E. Treasure at Apex Magazine (where Robin’s Last Song first appeared) about the greater implications of the story and my other eco-fiction. You can also read the story on Metastellar Speculative Fiction and Beyond.

Climate Imaginarium

Anyone living in or visiting the NYC area is welcome to the Climate Imaginarium launch on May 18 on Governor’s Island. Check this Eventbrite link for details. The exhibition will continue throughout the summer of 2024 and will include: climate storytelling and poetry by Climate Café, the Sixth Festival, and the Climate Writers Collective; opening exhibition of “What is Environmental Art?” by Forest for Trees; artwork from the Climate Imaginarium community and Climate Writers exhibition; “Eye of Flora” virtual reality exhibition by Synphisica Collective; and more.

Here’s what they say:

Come to Governors Island for the grand opening of our Climate Imaginarium house! The Climate Imaginarium will serve as a community center for climate and culture, with galleries and spaces for exhibitions, performances, film screenings, and events that respond to the climate crisis with solutions and visions for hope and justice. Join us at Building 406A on Colonels Row for a lively celebration of climate art, storytelling, and community.

Exhibitions will be open to the public at noon, and the party will officially start at 2pm. All donations will support programming in our community space.

How Climate Change Is Altering My Winter

January 28, 2024February 28, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Cedar-pine forest covered in new snow of winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I’m Canadian, and I love the snow. When I grew up in the Eastern Townships of Quebec, we enjoyed a brisk cold winter with deep snow for a good six months of the year. I’ve since lived in Vancouver, British Columbia, which experiences a milder regional climate; I now live in the Kawarthas of Ontario, which has a similar regional climate to what I experienced growing up in Quebec. Living in the Kawarthas reminds me of my childhood days with winter snow.

*Heavy snowfall in Trent Nature Sanctuary, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I love how the first snow of the season often comes from the sky in a thick passion. Huge flakes of unique beauty would settle on my coat sleeves and within minutes I’d be covered in snow. I would stand enraptured, arms out to catch snowflakes, and study each individual with admiration.

*Farm and road in winter in Kawarthas, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

*Young locust trees covered in new snow, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Snow wraps everything in a blanket of soft acceptance. It creates a dazzling face on a dark earth. It refuses to distinguish between artificial and natural. It covers everything—decorated house, shabby old car, willowy trees, manicured lawn—beneath its white mantle. It quiets the Earth.

*Trees and shrubs covered in new soft snow* *during snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I often walk a trail through the forest after a fresh snow has fallen and the sun reveals itself on a crisp day. Like a balancing tightrope walker, the snow piles itself on everything, from fat fir branch to thin black locust twig. The snow then gives itself to the vagaries of a playful wind. Occasionally, a gust would send a shower of glitter snow dust raining down on me.

*Snow-covered branches overlook path in show, ON* *(photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

*Twigs piled with snow on a calm morning, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I particularly enjoy walking a trail in the evening light after a fresh snow. Boots crunch on the fresh crisp snow that glistens in the moonlight. Each step is its own symphony of textured sound. A kind of collaboration with the deep of the night and Nature’s own whisperings.

*Jackson Creek after a snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Since moving to the Kawarthas, close to the Otonabee River, I walk daily along the river and its riparian forest. Winters here have graced us with a variety of typical winter morphology: thick and copious snowfall, enduring fog, imaginative ice formations on the river, and glittering hoarfrost and rime everywhere else. The first snowfall can come in November, large flakes falling on still fully-clothed shrubs and trees, creating a painter’s landscape of reds, yellows, and greens dusted in a white blanket. This is when, some mornings, mist will rise like a cold breath from the river or flow and pool in depressions of the rolling Kawartha drumlins.

*Thick first snowfall on Thompson Creek marsh in early winter, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

On cold nights in December, hoarfrost will form filigreed ‘leaves’ over everything—ground, sticks, ice and even snow. For a brief magical moment, this miniature crystal forest glitters like a field of jewels in the morning sun before vanishing by coffee break time. The river ices up in December, first with frazil that froths and fizzes as it coagulates into grease ice then shuga and finally to ice pancakes that crowd the shore, nudging each other like suburban women at a sale, then stitching themselves together into solid ice sheets attached to shore. By January and February, all is in place and the deep winter is upon us until ice break up and snow melt in late April into May. The river ice extends out from the bays in vast thick sheets where people can skate. The snow forms deep banks and drifts everywhere through which only snowshoes or skis can penetrate.

*Mist off the river rises like steam on a cold day in winter,* *ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*Old shed by the Otonabee River during a snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Lately (in the past few years) I’ve noticed that this pattern has become interrupted by extremely mild weather throughout the winter season. January can look like November, with the exception of the absence of leaves on trees and shrubs; the greens and browns of other vegetation such as grasses, forbs and forest litter can still be revealed. The fogs of early winter may also return. The river ice sheets may fragment and flow downstream, only to reform as waters refreeze. The formerly uninterrupted reign of winter is waning and this saddens me with feelings of solastalgia. The Kawarthas still get good dumps of snow and magical frost. But for each champagne powder snow day, and hoarfrost glitter, there is a melt day, when snow melts and it rains, turning the parking lot into a skating rink as temperatures plummet with nightfall.

*Snow melt on the side of a country road, ON (photo and* *rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I grew up in a part of Canada that experienced four distinct seasons. While spring and fall exemplify transition into and out of the two stable seasons of summer and winter, this is no longer the case in many parts of Canada, where formerly well-defined and uninterrupted winters and summers could be predicted. Now all the seasons experience transition and unpredictable phenomena. Winter temperatures in the Kawarthas were often stable at just below zero Centigrade to minus 20°; they now fluctuate more highly from minus 20° to +10.

*Author’s car parks on a country road after a snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

A report by NASA’s Goddard Institute for Space Studies released in 2022 confirmed that global temperatures in 2022 were 1.6 degrees Fahrenheit above the average baseline period of 1951 to 1980 and 2 degrees warmer than the late 19th century average. They reported that the past nine years have been the warmest since modern record keeping began in 1880.

*Teenagers walk the Rotary Trail after a snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by* *Nina Munteanu)*

The winter that I grew up with is changing into something else. It, like the changing world, is in transition. There is no denying that global warming is upon us and each region is uniquely experiencing its effects. Climate is changing and the environment is adapting to that change.

*Thompson Creek after a snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

While solastalgia creeps into my psyche at times, I am assiduously learning to pace myself with my changing environment. As the regional weather adapts to the warming climate, I am learning to adapt too. One way is through the equipment I use: I still use my snowshoes (a recent gift from my son) in winter; but, more often, I use snow/rain boots with crampons for terrain that includes wet snow, slush, and ice. Being prepared for change allows me to accept it with grace. I have learned to cherish those moments when fresh snow falls from the heavens like confetti. I charge outside in my snow gear and enjoy it while it’s there. I have learned to live in discovery and to thrill in the unpredictable. Each day is a gift of unknown and thrilling surprise.

*First snow in early winter at Thompson Creek, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

I have learned to live in the moment and to cherish that moment as a gift.

Because, even change is a gift.

*Partially iced over Otonabee River, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Article originally published January 2023 in Rewilding Our Stories (edited by Mary Woodbury) then January 2, 2024 on Dragon.eco.

*Trees and dogwood shrubs in winter by the Thompson Marsh, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

*Woman and her dog walk among giant cedars after a snowfall, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

Nina Munteanu’s “Robin’s Last Song” in Metastellar Magazine

January 21, 2024May 9, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

I rock on the cedar swing on my veranda and hear the wind rustling through the gaunt forest. An abandoned nest, the forest sighs in low ponderous notes. It sighs of a gentler time. A time when birds filled it with song. A time when large and small creatures — unconcerned with the distant thrum and roar of diggers and logging trucks — roamed the thick second-growth forest. The discord was still too far away to bother the wildlife. But their killer lurked far closer in deadly silence. And it caught the birds in the bliss of ignorance. The human-made scourge came like a thief in the night and quietly strangled all the birds in the name of progress.
excerpt from “Robin’s Last Song” by Nina Munteanu

My short story Robin’s Last Song was republished recently in the superlative online magazine Metastellar. The story was first published in 2021 in Issue 128 of Apex Magazine and an earlier version of the story called Out of the Silence appeared in the literary magazine subTerrain Magazine Issue 85 in 2020.

*Left, “subTerrain” Issue 85 carries “Out of the Silence”; right, “Apex Magazine” issue 128 carries “Robin’s Last Song”*

I raced up the stairs to the auditorium then quieted my breath and listened at the door, heart thumping like a bird trying to escape. Professor Gopnik was ten minutes into his lecture; I could hear his commanding voice: “… estimates that the entire number of birds have been reduced by a third in five decades—I mean common birds like the robins, sparrows, warblers, and even starlings…”

He was talking about Rosenberg’s paper in Science. The study shocked the scientific community; but I had already observed the decline of the house sparrow around my aunt and uncle’s house near the Old Mill. And the robin—my namesake, whose song heralded spring for me—had grown quiet.

I imagined Gopnik waving the journal at the class in his typical showman style. He had a habit of wandering the stage like an evangelist, fixing each student with intense blue eyes as if challenging them to believe. I thought him an over-confident condescending prig. But for someone who looked as young as the students he was teaching, Gopnik was brilliant. And what he was doing was so important. I wanted so badly to work under him as a grad student. But he terrified me.
Excerpt from “Robin’s Last Song” by Nina Munteanu

The Story Behind the Story

It all began with my discovery of an emerging bioacoustic tool, soundscape ecology, that measures biodiversity and ecosystem functionality. I’d just read the disturbing 2019 Science article by Rosenberg and team who determined that our slow violence of habitat degradation and toxic pollution has reduced the world’s bird population by a third in just five decades. I was devastated; I could not imagine a world without the comforting sound of birds. What would it be like if all the birds disappeared?

*Map and chart of bird decline since 1970*

Already primed with research into genetic engineering for the sequel to my 2020 eco-novel, A Diary in the Age of Water, my muse (often delightfully unruly) played with notions of the potential implication of gene hacking in ecological calamity and how this might touch on our precious birds: when nature “is forced out of her natural state and squeezed and moulded;” her secrets “reveal themselves more readily under the vexations of art than when they go their own way.”

Robin’s Last Song is a realizable work of fiction in which science and technology are both instigators of disaster and purveyors of salvation. Today, gene-editing, proteomics, and DNA origami—to name just a few—promise many things from increased longevity in humans to giant disease-resistant crops. Will synthetic biology control and redesign Nature to suit hubris or serve evolution? What is our moral imperative and who are the casualties? As Francis Bacon expressed in Novum Organum, science does not make that decision. We do.

You can read an Interview on Writing Robin’s Last Song that Alberta author Simon Rose did with me recently.

I also recently sat down with Rebecca E. Treasure of Apex Magazine for a conversation about story, ecology, and the future. Here’s how it begins:

Apex Magazine: The Way of Water in Little Blue Marble is such a powerful piece touching on water scarcity and friendship, a dry future and the potential for technology to overtake natural ecology. Robin’s Last Song explores extinction, human fallibility, friendship, and again, that conflict between technology and nature. Do you think we’re heading toward the kind of dystopia shown in these stories?…

For more about bird declines around the world see my articles: “What if the Birds All Die?” and “Birds are Vanishing.”

“Over increasingly large areas of the United States, spring now comes unheralded by the return of the birds. The early mornings are strangely silent where once they were filled with the beauty of bird song”
Rachel Carson, Silent Spring

*Discarded robin’s egg in the forest in spring, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Read my other stories in Metastellar here: Nina Munteanu in Metastellar Speculative Fiction and Beyond.

p.s. May9: I just learned that Robin’s Last Song was selected by the NYC Climate Writers Collective as part of an exhibition in the Climate Imaginarium on Governors island. The exhibition, starting May 18, will run throughout the summer of 2024.

*Fledgling robin rests on a patio chair in spring, ON (photo by Merridy Cox)*

When Water Speaks: quotes from A Diary in the Age of Water

December 31, 2023February 2, 2024 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

“There is no depression more debilitating than knowing that you cannot go back home, even though you’re already there.”
Lynna Dresden

“This is a significant book for our times … creative, inventive, and possibly prescient.”
DAVID CAMERON, Amazon Review

“Profound and brilliant. Scary and comforting at the same time. Life will go on. Water will go on.”
NINA DARRELL Amazon Review