Hey, Seattle! Just a reminder that I’ll be at the Seattle Public Library tonight at 7PM with my new novel Homeland. Come on down (and bring the kids!)! Portland, you’re next, then San Francisco (and again!). Here’s the whole schedule — 20+ cities!.
Hey, Seattle! Just a reminder that I’ll be at the Seattle Public Library tonight at 7PM with my new novel Homeland. Come on down (and bring the kids!)! Portland, you’re next, then San Francisco (and again!). Here’s the whole schedule — 20+ cities!.
In a couple of hours, I’m getting on a plane from London to Seattle to kick off the tour for Homeland, the sequel to Little Brother. My first stop is tomorrow (Feb 5) night, at the Seattle Public Library, and then I head to Portland for Feb 6, where I’ll be at Powell’s in Beaverton. Then it’s off to San Francisco, where I’ll be at Booksmith on Feb 7, and Borderlands on Feb 9.
There’s a lot more cities on this US tour, mostly in the warm spots (we’re trying to minimize weather delays, because the schedule is so tight). And though it’s not on the calendar yet, I’ll be Lawrence, KS on Feb 28 at the Kansas Union’s Alderson Auditorium at 7:30 and in Toronto on Mar 1 for a presentation at the Merril Collection at 7PM.
If you’re wondering what the book’s all about, The Oregonian ran an interview with me this weekend about the book:
A couple of years ago, it occurred to me that the emergency had become permanent. Declaring war on an abstract noun like “terror” meant that we would forever be on a war footing, where any dissent was characterized as treason, where justice was rough and unaccountable, where the relationship of the state to its citizens would grow ever more militarized.
But this permanent emergency didn’t have any visible battlefront — it was a series of largely invisible crises in the form of brutal prosecutorial overreach, police crackdowns, ubiquitous surveillance, merciless debt-hounding and repossession.
I wanted to write a story that helped kids see this invisible, all-powerful crisis unfolding around them, and helped them see that it didn’t have to be that way, that they could push back.
I’ve heard from thousands and thousands of kids who were influenced by “Little Brother,” kids for whom it was an inspiration to become makers, programmers and activists. I wanted to reach these kids again, and their little sisters and brothers, and show them that the fight goes on and it needs them.
Correction: The Borderlands event is on Feb 7, not Feb 8.
In a couple of hours, I’m getting on a plane from London to Seattle to kick off the tour for Homeland, the sequel to Little Brother. My first stop is tomorrow (Feb 5) night, at the Seattle Public Library, and then I head to Portland for Feb 6, where I’ll be at Powell’s in Beaverton. Then it’s off to San Francisco, where I’ll be at Booksmith on Feb 7, and Borderlands on Feb 8.
There’s a lot more cities on this US tour, mostly in the warm spots (we’re trying to minimize weather delays, because the schedule is so tight). And though it’s not on the calendar yet, I’ll be Lawrence, KS on Feb 28 at the Kansas Union’s Alderson Auditorium at 7:30 and in Toronto on Mar 1 for a presentation at the Merril Collection at 7PM.
If you’re wondering what the book’s all about, The Oregonian ran an interview with me this weekend about the book:
A couple of years ago, it occurred to me that the emergency had become permanent. Declaring war on an abstract noun like “terror” meant that we would forever be on a war footing, where any dissent was characterized as treason, where justice was rough and unaccountable, where the relationship of the state to its citizens would grow ever more militarized.
But this permanent emergency didn’t have any visible battlefront — it was a series of largely invisible crises in the form of brutal prosecutorial overreach, police crackdowns, ubiquitous surveillance, merciless debt-hounding and repossession.
I wanted to write a story that helped kids see this invisible, all-powerful crisis unfolding around them, and helped them see that it didn’t have to be that way, that they could push back.
I’ve heard from thousands and thousands of kids who were influenced by “Little Brother,” kids for whom it was an inspiration to become makers, programmers and activists. I wanted to reach these kids again, and their little sisters and brothers, and show them that the fight goes on and it needs them.
Correction: The Borderlands event is on Feb 7, not Feb 8.
In a couple of hours, I’m getting on a plane from London to Seattle to kick off the tour for Homeland, the sequel to Little Brother. My first stop is tomorrow (Feb 5) night, at the Seattle Public Library, and then I head to Portland for Feb 6, where I’ll be at Powell’s in Beaverton. Then it’s off to San Francisco, where I’ll be at Booksmith on Feb 7, and Borderlands on Feb 8.
There’s a lot more cities on this US tour, mostly in the warm spots (we’re trying to minimize weather delays, because the schedule is so tight). And though it’s not on the calendar yet, I’ll be Lawrence, KS on Feb 28 at the Kansas Union’s Alderson Auditorium at 7:30 and in Toronto on Mar 1 for a presentation at the Merril Collection at 7PM.
If you’re wondering what the book’s all about, The Oregonian ran an interview with me this weekend about the book:
A couple of years ago, it occurred to me that the emergency had become permanent. Declaring war on an abstract noun like “terror” meant that we would forever be on a war footing, where any dissent was characterized as treason, where justice was rough and unaccountable, where the relationship of the state to its citizens would grow ever more militarized.
But this permanent emergency didn’t have any visible battlefront — it was a series of largely invisible crises in the form of brutal prosecutorial overreach, police crackdowns, ubiquitous surveillance, merciless debt-hounding and repossession.
I wanted to write a story that helped kids see this invisible, all-powerful crisis unfolding around them, and helped them see that it didn’t have to be that way, that they could push back.
I’ve heard from thousands and thousands of kids who were influenced by “Little Brother,” kids for whom it was an inspiration to become makers, programmers and activists. I wanted to reach these kids again, and their little sisters and brothers, and show them that the fight goes on and it needs them.
I did a Q&A with The Oregonian to help publicize my stop at the Powell’s Books in Beaverton, OR on Feb 6 at 7PM. It’s the second stop in my 22 city tour.
What prompted you to write “Homeland,” the sequel to “Little Brother,” and what’s the impact of “Little Brother” been, especially among younger readers?
A couple of years ago, it occurred to me that the emergency had become permanent. Declaring war on an abstract noun like “terror” meant that we would forever be on a war footing, where any dissent was characterized as treason, where justice was rough and unaccountable, where the relationship of the state to its citizens would grow ever more militarized.
But this permanent emergency didn’t have any visible battlefront — it was a series of largely invisible crises in the form of brutal prosecutorial overreach, police crackdowns, ubiquitous surveillance, merciless debt-hounding and repossession.
I wanted to write a story that helped kids see this invisible, all-powerful crisis unfolding around them, and helped them see that it didn’t have to be that way, that they could push back.
I’ve heard from thousands and thousands of kids who were influenced by “Little Brother,” kids for whom it was an inspiration to become makers, programmers and activists. I wanted to reach these kids again, and their little sisters and brothers, and show them that the fight goes on and it needs them.
Bookmarks: Q&A with Cory Doctorow, science fiction and Internet activist
I did a Q&A with The Oregonian to help publicize my stop at the Powell’s Books in Beaverton, OR on Feb 6 at 7PM. It’s the second stop in my 22 city tour.
What prompted you to write “Homeland,” the sequel to “Little Brother,” and what’s the impact of “Little Brother” been, especially among younger readers?
A couple of years ago, it occurred to me that the emergency had become permanent. Declaring war on an abstract noun like “terror” meant that we would forever be on a war footing, where any dissent was characterized as treason, where justice was rough and unaccountable, where the relationship of the state to its citizens would grow ever more militarized.
But this permanent emergency didn’t have any visible battlefront — it was a series of largely invisible crises in the form of brutal prosecutorial overreach, police crackdowns, ubiquitous surveillance, merciless debt-hounding and repossession.
I wanted to write a story that helped kids see this invisible, all-powerful crisis unfolding around them, and helped them see that it didn’t have to be that way, that they could push back.
I’ve heard from thousands and thousands of kids who were influenced by “Little Brother,” kids for whom it was an inspiration to become makers, programmers and activists. I wanted to reach these kids again, and their little sisters and brothers, and show them that the fight goes on and it needs them.
Bookmarks: Q&A with Cory Doctorow, science fiction and Internet activist
I did a Q&A with The Oregonian to help publicize my stop at the Powell’s Books in Beaverton, OR on Feb 6 at 7PM. It’s the second stop in my 22 city tour.
What prompted you to write “Homeland,” the sequel to “Little Brother,” and what’s the impact of “Little Brother” been, especially among younger readers?
A couple of years ago, it occurred to me that the emergency had become permanent. Declaring war on an abstract noun like “terror” meant that we would forever be on a war footing, where any dissent was characterized as treason, where justice was rough and unaccountable, where the relationship of the state to its citizens would grow ever more militarized.
But this permanent emergency didn’t have any visible battlefront — it was a series of largely invisible crises in the form of brutal prosecutorial overreach, police crackdowns, ubiquitous surveillance, merciless debt-hounding and repossession.
I wanted to write a story that helped kids see this invisible, all-powerful crisis unfolding around them, and helped them see that it didn’t have to be that way, that they could push back.
I’ve heard from thousands and thousands of kids who were influenced by “Little Brother,” kids for whom it was an inspiration to become makers, programmers and activists. I wanted to reach these kids again, and their little sisters and brothers, and show them that the fight goes on and it needs them.
Bookmarks: Q&A with Cory Doctorow, science fiction and Internet activist
Review:
Washington Post
The question of whether Marcus should release the leaked data is a genuine moral dilemma. The book’s central concern is what civil society should look like in a world where more and more information about citizens is available to the state.
Graham Sleight, Washington Post
I’m excited to see the folks at Law and the Multiverse (a blog that considers legal questions through the lens of comics, movies and fiction) having a look at the legal issues raised in Little Brother. It’s very timely, what with the sequel, Homeland, coming out on Tuesday!
A large portion of the book’s plot rests on the intersection of law and technology. Bruce Schneier thought the technology was handled pretty well, which is a strong endorsement. But what about the law? There are a couple of minor errors (e.g. referring to the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals as the “9th Circuit Appellate Division Court”) that make one wonder about the larger issues. Was it illegal for Marcus and his friends to have been imprisoned at “Gitmo-by-the-Bay” without access to an attorney and without being charged with a crime? And what about the waterboarding? Could the Bay Area Department of Homeland Security be headed by a Major General and staffed by other members of the military? Could the State Troopers have saved the day?
The Law and the Multiverse people wrote a great book that runs through all the high points of US law by examining how it applies to superheros in comic books.
