literature

Science fiction's most popular literary writers from Isaac Asimov to Stephen King and Frank Herbert, and the rising stars of today.

Brutalist Stories #11
“We’ll get married then, shall we?” She whispered to him in the dark, his arm coming in around her waist and pulling her into him, his cheek touching hers, his tears rolling onto her face.
By Brutalist Stories9 years ago in Futurism
Outrun Stories #10
“You can walk away from all this,” he told himself as he watched the sea roll. The white horses of the huge waves crashed over themselves in the distance, dissipating gradually, until their faint remnants washed up against his toes.
By Outrun Stories9 years ago in Futurism
Brutalist Stories #10
He had decided the previous night that they were guilty. There was no future here, a finger tapping an ivory key on an out of tune piano, forever. Nothing could sync in this place, always it resonated with wrongness.
By Brutalist Stories9 years ago in Futurism
The Thousandth Happy Haunt
They say that Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth. Even the ghosts in the Haunted Mansion are happy, being called the “happy haunts”. According to the ghost host, the disembodied narrator of the attraction, there are nine-hundred and ninety-nine of them in residence, but he assures everyone, day after day, that there is room for a thousand – he even asks for volunteers. Paul Frees provided the voice of the Ghost Host, delivering dialog such as, “Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding,” which many agree could only have been written by legendary Imagineer X. Antencio. An unintended consequence of his writing, however, is that since November 2, 1986, the Haunted Mansion's Ghost Host truly became a voice from the beyond, with the death of Paul Frees.
By L. Christopher Bird9 years ago in Futurism
10 Things the New 'Dune' Movie Needs to Include
Frank Herbert's Dune is one of the greatest science fiction novels ever written. Many say it is the Lord of the Rings of science fiction. It has inspired story tellers ever since its release over fifty years ago. Without it, we wouldn't have Star Wars.
By Anthony Gramuglia9 years ago in Futurism
Outrun Stories #9
“What have you got to be afraid of?” She said to herself, pulling off her helmet, stepping up to the warehouse door turning and watching the mist of her breath glitter for a moment in the headlight of her motorcycle.
By Outrun Stories9 years ago in Futurism
Brutalist Stories #9
“Do you confess? That all this is too much for you? That you do not understand?” He raised his head and caught her line of sight as she was turning away, but all he needed was that flash, that millisecond of contact to know what she saw. Him, and all that he had promised her, all that he had tried to do for her, all that he had failed at.
By Brutalist Stories9 years ago in Futurism
Outrun Stories #8
The helicopter’s lights probed the 23rd floor of the downtown skyscraper. Piercing through the office blinds and cutting across the deserted workspace, hoping to catch a shadow, some flicker of life from those that had been captured.
By Outrun Stories9 years ago in Futurism
Brutalist Stories #8
There’s the person that he was, and the person that he is. There’s the memories of the Brutopolis that tear through him, and the memories that float above and around him, coating him in a warm light.
By Brutalist Stories9 years ago in Futurism
In the Author’s Universe: Interview with Sci-Fi Author Hugh Howey
Hugh Howey is an author of science fiction, and whatever else he wants to write about; as an independent author he controls his writing career.
By K.E. Lanning9 years ago in Futurism
Brutalist Stories #7
“Here, at the end of all things, and I still feel you. I’ve lost you, over and over again, so many times. Countless faces through the infinite, the same person, the one I was searching for…” he went silent, looking up to the light piercing the crumbling concrete, the sky outside on fire.
By Brutalist Stories9 years ago in Futurism
Brutalist Stories #6
“Isn’t this enough?” he said, holding her ashen hand, her old skin soft to the touch, smooth like leather, a faint pulse whispering to him.
By Brutalist Stories9 years ago in Futurism