I’ve read a lot of manuscripts over the years. At Clarion I read 4 or 5 stories a day for six weeks, and did a critique on each one. Before and after that I’ve read and critiqued stories for friends, for relations, and for members of critique groups. Reading as an editor is a completely different thing.

Reading for critique means reading to figure out how to make the story better. Part of it is looking for mistakes, but not just any mistakes.

I mean, many writers are happy to get a line-edit of a story. (I mentioned to one of the other people at Clarion that I appreciated the line-edit he had provided. He said, “Oh, if that was useful, I’ll do more of it on your future stories.” And he did, which over the course of the next six weeks meant I learned most of what I should have learned in 12 years of school, about what errors I was prone to in grammar, punctuation, spelling, sentence construction, etc.) But a line-edit is primarily useful as part of a critique if the story is nearly perfect except for a few typos. (Or if, like me, you didn’t pay attention in high school and need to back up and learn some of that stuff.)

James Patrick Kelly talked about about the three kinds of critiques that are useful. It depends on the kind of story you have in your hand.

Jim’s talk at the beginning today was about the kinds of stories that get workshopped. He said you can workshop a story that is:

  • broken
  • finished
  • ready to submit

His point was that the critique needs to be done differently, depending on where the story is. For a broken story, you might suggest major changes to the story structure, major cuts or expansions, changes in direction, etc. For a finished story you wouldn’t suggest those things, but you might suggest a way to improve the twist at the ending or to raise the stakes a bit before the climax or a way to bring out the subtext a bit better. For a ready-to-submit story you might just suggest a bit of polish and point out things like awkward sentences or bits that were unintentionally funny.

— my Clarion journal: https://www.philipbrewer.net/Journal/2001/2001-06-19.php.)

What I (and my brother) have been doing for the past five or six weeks is reading as slush readers. It’s a completely different exercise. The question is not “How to make the story better.” For me, the question is more like, “Will this story, with minimal editing, delight the readers of Elegant Lich magazine?”

Of course, there’s a lot of territory beyond that question. Our first issue isn’t out yet. We’ve talked about what we want to produce, but we haven’t been doing this long enough to have much of a joint vision at all—neither of the magazine, nor of the slush reading process.

I started this post several weeks ago, wanting to say, “Well, the first week or two it was taking me forever to read a story, but now I think I’ve got it,” but that turned out to be premature, which is part of the reason this post is only going up now.

I do think I’ll be able to do the slush-reading part more quickly, next time we open to submissions. My brother will be at least as happy about that as I am.

I’m not so sure that there isn’t some hay to be made around insisting that AI firms should be distributing half their profits to the writers whose works they stole to train their models, but I also agree with Cory that it’d be a mistake to do that in a way that broke using the internet to provide citations for dictionaries.

If you’re interested, like I am, in how and why copyright might not be the best tool for helping writers make a living writing, you’ll definitely want to read Cory’s latest at Pluralistic:

The AI copyright fight isn’t being fought to protect your wages – it’s being fought to see whether your lost wages end up in the pockets of a tech boss or a media boss.

Source: Pluralistic: IP can’t save you from AI (18 Aug 2026) – Pluralistic: Daily links from Cory Doctorow

AI generated image from the prompt Make an image to suggest "immanentizing the eschaton?”

My brother asked me today, “Which author do you think best immanentizes the eschaton?”

Not being a moron, I immediately replied, “Obviously it’s Charlie Stross.”

Before I could finish typing that, he suggested a Mastodon poll to ask people, to which I replied, “The poll should be ‘After Charlie Stross, what author next best immanentizes the eschaton?'”

We speculated a bit, throwing out names like William Gibson, Bruce Stirling, Neal Stephenson, and Cory Doctorow.

I assume this was all prompted by the most recent Pluralistic, in which Cory Doctorow says, after explaining why, if their AI is so close to having god-like powers, anyone would be asking for money for their AI, when they could just be using the AI to make money for them, says:

So it’s not surprising that we don’t ask why these AI god-botherers need our stupid money while they’re immanentizing the eschaton. Why would they operate a hospital if they could go meta and sell the doctorbots to the MBAs running the hospital?

Source: https://pluralistic.net/2026/07/13/go-meta-meta/#meta-meta-meta

Anyway, at this point I put the question to confer.to (so I don’t know which AI model responded), but it gave me a great reply:

The Core “Eschaton Immanentizers” (Closest to Stross)

1. Vernor Vinge ⭐

  • Why: He literally coined the term “technological singularity” in his 1993 essay. Stross stands on Vinge’s shoulders.
  • Key Works: A Fire Upon the Deep (zones of thought = different physical laws based on intelligence density), A Deepness in the Sky, Marooned in Realtime.
  • Vibe: More optimistic than Stross, but equally committed to the idea that superintelligence changes everything, including physics.

2. Greg Egan ⭐⭐

  • Why: If Stross is the journalist of the singularity, Egan is the mathematician. He goes harder into the ontological breakdown. His characters upload, fragment, merge, and cease to be human in ways that make Stross look cozy.
  • Key Works: Permutation City (simulated reality, consciousness as substrate-independent), Diaspora (post-human civilization across dimensions), Quarantine (reality modification).
  • Vibe: Colder, more rigorous, less humor. The eschaton isn’t just immanentized; it’s proven.

3. Hannu Rajaniemi

  • Why: Writes about societies that already live in the post-singularity world Stross describes arriving.
  • Key Works: The Quantum Thief trilogy (solar system transformed by post-human technologies, memory as currency, gogolized consciousness).
  • Vibe: Dense, playful, requires work—but depicts the aftermath of eschatonization brilliantly.

4. Ken MacLeod

  • Why: Stross’s contemporary and friend; they share a intellectual milieu (Edinburgh SF scene). MacLeod explores similar themes but often from a more political/ideological angle.
  • Key Works: The Fall Revolution series (The Star Fraction, The Stone Canal), The Execution Channel.
  • Vibe: More focused on how ideologies (libertarianism, socialism, etc.) interact with singularity tech.

I mean, really, I don’t know why we didn’t have Verner Vinge in mind, or Greg Egan. I’ve read both, and I’m sure Steven has as well. They’re obviously on top.

I don’t know if Steven has read Hannu Rajaniemi, but I’ve at least read The Quantum Thief, and, yes, I’d put him on this list.

The AI also rather dismissed our guesses:

Your Guesses, Evaluated

AuthorVerdictNotes
William GibsonAdjacentCyberpunk is pre-singularity. His later work (The Peripheral) touches on it, but he’s more about near-future tech’s social impact than ontological rupture.
Bruce SterlingAdjacentSame as Gibson—cyberpunk pioneer, but more interested in design, aesthetics, and near-term futures than the actual singularity event.
Neal StephensonPartialThe Diamond Age and Snow Crash have elements, but he’s more interested in memes and social structures than the hard break of singularity. Anathem gets closer.
Cory DoctorowPartialWrites about these themes (especially in Walkaway and Makers), but with a more accessible, activist, optimistic lens. Less “reality breaks,” more “how do we organize after tech changes?”

The AI actually goes on a bit, mentioning several other authors including Richard Morgan, Ted Chiang, and others, but I’ll just go hang my head in shame rather than copy and paste more AI output.

(Normally my posts are entirely my own writing. This post is an exception, in that it includes a bunch of copy/pasted AI output. I think it’s adequately tagged, though, and it’s clear that I’m not trying to pass off AI output as my own writing. Because I thought it was funny, I also generated an AI image to be the “featured image” for this post. Once again, I hope it’s clear that I’m not trying to pass off AI output as my own.)

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I’d made two changes to my morning routine: I had quit wearing my earbuds (and listening to podcasts) during my first two walks in the morning, and had started sitting down to write as soon as I got home from the second walk.

I am pleased to report that these changes are working great. I’ve done at least some fiction writing every single day for over three weeks now. Most of it was on a long-form project that I’m pressing ahead with, but I briefly paused to work on a short story (a flash piece?), that made use of one idea from my long-form project that I really liked, but that wasn’t working in the story.

I’ve gotten back to writing regularly, for the first time in too long. I’ve made two changes to my daily routine to make this happen.

The first is that I’m avoiding listening to podcasts during my first two dog walks. This lets me use that time walking outdoors to get into the headspace of whatever story I’m working on.

The second is that I’m going ahead and sitting down to write, right after the second dog walk. I’ve known for a very long time that I have to get started writing early, if I’m going to be successful. After second walk is perhaps not idea—earlier might be better—but it’s been working these past few days.

A dog lying in unmowed grass with her tongue slightly out. She is not writing.

I had been using that time to get started on my morning exercises. But that leads into doing a workout, and by the time I’m done with that the dog is ready for her third walk, and then it’s time for lunch. And that is why I hadn’t been getting any writing done.

Slotting in a session of writing before I exercise is cutting into my exercise time, but maybe that’s okay. Delaying my workout for an hour (or, hopefully soon, an hour and a half) is certainly okay occasionally, and so far I’ve been getting in a reasonable amount of exercise anyway.

Okay, this is really, really good. About writers and writing (via @doctorow).

Makes me want to write some proletarian literature.

Characters in proletarian literature are often misled into believing that their individual flaws account for their miserable conditions, but then encounter a union organizer or a wise old Wobbly who tells them the truth, setting fictional men and women on the revolutionary path.

Source: Go Left, Young Writers!

Yesterday was a serious-thinking day on my novel, rather than fingers-on-keyboard day. I got zero words, but I figured out who the antagonist is. (I’d thought I had one already, but I’d realized he wasn’t going to work. I needed someone further away, and someone more. . . not more formidable, because the guy I’d been thinking of is plenty formidable, but more. . . Dangerous.

Anyway, after yesterday’s thinking, I got a good bit of writing done today.

It’s nice to be here, because I think I can see several more days of cranking out prose based on what I’ve just figured out, whereas for a couple of days there I was just creeping along, making little tweaks around the edges, because I didn’t know where it was going to go next. Now I do.

One of the flaws of my fiction writing is that my heroes tend to be quiet people, eking out a meager existence during hard times. This is largely due to my perspective on the future, which is that hard times are very likely coming, combined with my own cautious nature, projected onto my heroes.

The problem is that quietly eking out a meager existence in the face of hard times doesn’t really make for an exciting story.

What tends to make for an exciting story is a hero trying to achieve great things.

So, for my novel, I’m trying to lean into this idea. As this is not my natural inclination, I hadn’t really laid the groundwork for this in my first few thousand words, but I have now gone back and layered in a tiny bit of backstory that shows the hero as someone who has tried to achieve great things in the past, and as the sort of person who might do so again in the future.

And I think I did it without violating the rule about minimizing rewriting. During a November novel-writing month you want to move forward as fast as possible, leaving any rewriting for after there’s a first draft. Essentially everything I did was adding new scenes between existing scenes that advanced the action while providing a bit of backstory.

The writing isn’t going very fast. I’ve been averaging a bit under 700 words a day, which is a bit less than half of what I’d need to hit 50,000 by the end of the month. Which is okay, because hitting 50,000 words is a goal, not a moral committment. And I’m thinking things will pick up, once the “striving to achieve great things” mojo starts working.

Full moon rising above trees on the other side of a pond, with a ripple visible in the foreground
Today’s supermoon rising above the detention pond I often walk Ashley around. Just right of center in the water you can see a V-shaped ripple that is the wake of a muskrat swimming along.

Sundays are the day I still manage to do some HEMA training. I used to go three times a week, but had to cut way back after I hurt my elbow. Now it’s just Sundays, because Sunday is the day my group does a sword-in-one-hand class, which is gentler on my elbow. We usually train dussack or rapier.

My plan for today was to get as much writing done in the morning as I could, then go train sword fighting, and then squeeze in a bit more writing in the late afternoon or evening. But, as often happens, things happened. My brother invited me to attend the kick-off meeting for SFWA’s Winter Worlds of Giving event, so that was most of an hour on zoom. Then my usual cocktail hour with my brother and my mom. Then walking the dog. Then an episode of The Diplomat with Jackie. Then another episode of The Diplomat with Jackie. And now I’m just too tired to get any more writing done.

So, it’s a good thing I got in that morning session, which got me 551 words.

Tomorrow I’ll be back at it.

Invited by my brother (SFWA’s board secretary), I just attended the kick-off meeting for SFWA’s Winter Worlds of Giving.

If you’re a writer, and especially if you’re a SFWA member, check out that link! They’re asking writers to make a public statement of their “creative interests, and the broad strokes of what you’ve got on the go.” Doing so will put you in a group of people who are going to be doing some pretty cool stuff over the next three months.