Ken Poyner is at it again. No spineless neurotics or lovable sitcom divorcés found here.

I like Ken Poyner's work because he writes about men who don't apologize. His characters don't have bad relationships or mommy issues. There aren't any quasi-metros or neurotics. They aren't spineless twots, or sitcom divorcés "with a heart of gold."

From The May, 2014 issue, Ken Poyner's story, "Snake Oil Rights," has a salesman who sizes up a synthetic human--a female form, his own design:

"...the thunder of her spiked heel nearly touches the floorboard as one blue sensuous snake of a thigh slithers carefully over the other, the lip of her mini-dress folding just a little back. I turn to look over the whole of her, and it takes commitment to this trip’s firm schedule not to stop the truck. But I need to get to wherever this place is. I am the new novelty, straight from the complicated cities. I am bringing progress, modernity, the life folks only see on their quaint hand-held view screens."

He writes beefy characters so that actors like Gene Hackman, Charlton Heston, Eli Wallach, George Kennedy could have played them.

From Poyner's latest coming in October, "Establishment", an android barkeep eyeballs two customers engaged in discourse:

"You hate to see them waste their money on access when they could be wasting their money on maintenance, but I can’t control the bone and protein crowd. I’ve yet to figure out their programming, and I stay out of the mathematics of it when two of them are dealing."

There it is, from both sides. The first, he's acknowledging one of the base motivations for improving technology. The second, from the opposite viewpoint, is a unique combination of man/machine sensibility with genuine AI cynicism on what it is to be a man. He's comfortable in both places.

His characterizations are perfect raw material for classic actors of the sixties and seventies who played some great sonsabitches who didn't give a shit whether they got the girl or just who their ex-wife was tumbling now.

Ken's very low-key about all this and prefers a discussion of "personhood"  but as far as I am concerned his voice is clear. And we don't see enough of this kind of work.

Check out Ken Poyner in the "May, 2014" issue. And get ready to welcome him back in October.

-CTG

May Stories Released~! Online [The Avatar Self and Other Stories]

May Stories Released~!

#Online, #avatar, #rose, #dementia, #clock, #supervillain, #patient, #sexbot, #scifi, #adventure www.bdlit.com  

The Avatar Self

Susan E. Sage We have a room devoted to the avatars in the monastery. People venture here from all over to see the sacred objects — the dolls — that once carried spirits from one body to another. I suppose my avatar is among them, but since they all look pretty much the same, I’ve never tried to figure out the exact vessel. Read More...

Boomtown Guide For The Perplexed Michael Reilly As he and Rose left for Morton’s, he pressed his unruly hair into place with his fingers. The elevator opened, they got on, and they did not talk as they descended. In the dark basement they groped without confidence toward the freight elevator. Charley heard a loud crash and felt Rose’s fingers grab his arm for a second, then she apparently fell. “Oh no!” By her voice, she had started crying. Read More...

Bingo Lela Marie De La Garza Earth had introduced bingo to Orulian, and now the craze was planet wide. Huge bingo complexes were everywhere. Orulian was a large, rich planet, and the prizes were treasures beyond dreams. But there were rules. And getting into a game in the first place was costly. Read More...

Merrows

Alan Bray The clocks held weights in the shape of pine cones and eggs hung from chains. A feeling of expectation came from behind the little shuttered doors, as if ... But the clocks had all been stopped, all at different times.  “Do you restore these?” Sam asked, wondering if clocks that beat and twitched filled another room. The silence was uncomfortable. Read More...

Crucible Invictus Konstantine Paradias We flew across the English Channel in fifteen seconds flat, breaking the sound barrier twice over. I could see the air molecules heating up as they ground against my skin. Behind me, I could imagine teeth gritting together. Thirty seconds more, we were crossing over Rouen, the TGV a trail of mercury on the countryside. Read More...

  Run Dave Morehouse A couple years ago Edna showed me how she could read lips. I promised I wouldn’t tell. “They’ll say more if they don’t know,” she had whispered. “It’s how I hear the voices.” She told me their secrets. They will keep us here forever. Poor Edna ... nowadays she doesn’t hear anything. Read More...

  Snake Oil Rights Ken Poyner I need to get to wherever this place is. I am the new novelty, straight from the complicated cities and now out in the hinterlands. Even people who come in from thirty miles out are seeing progress these days. No matter how badly they want to do it, yokels cannot stay yokels. If they try, their own children abandon them. Read More...

 Woot~!