Tag Archives: dystopian

Shhh… it’s a Library

Yesterday was the launch event for Eating Robots and Other Stories at The Libary Club in central London and what a great evening it was. There’s nothing quite like hearing an audience laugh and gasp at the exact moment you want them to, and they did.

I was really pleased that Christine Aicardi and Laura Prime, both contributors to the expert responses at the back of the book, were able to come along to speak and take questions from the audience. I think there’s something special about collaborating and they epitomised this perfectly.

For me the pinnacle of the evening was Gigi Lynch performing the story US (photo above). It’s not easy to hold an audience for thirty minutes with one story, but she managed it effortlessly.

US was emotional to write and Gigi was brilliant at bringing out the deep sense of loss, loneliness and optimistic hope that I believe is an integral part of the story. In fact she was so good that I was moved to tears (by my own story!) and even people who already knew it came up afterwards to say how captivated they’d been.

You can find out more about the collection at stephenoram.net/eatingrobots


On 22 June 2017, Eating Robots and Other Stories is featured as a part of the Fitzrovia Festival literary event – Collaboration Works

Pumped Up Presidents

I’m making a slight deviation from the usual monthly written story to bring you a video of me reading Pumped Up Presidents as part of the Virtual Futures Near-Future Fictions Series.

The spark for this tale of future presidents was a piece I saw from Futurism on In-Ear Translators.

Take a look – I hope you enjoy it.

 



And, don’t forget…

Eating Robots and Other Stories is out on 31 May 2017.


photo credit: txmx 2 via photopin (license)

Breaking the Rules Is Not Allowed

Screaming white noise. Pitch black darkness.

What a way to be greeted into a new day.

Aiden felt around for the edge of his cardboard mattress. Beyond its frayed borders buried among the food scraps and his few discarded clothes was the nectar he craved. The withdrawal was intense as the nanobots issued their friendly warning that his addiction needed feeding for him to stay alive.

Fumbling around in the detritus of his life he found his last vial of nanobot nectar and gulped it down.

A pinpoint of bright light appeared. Then another. And another. And another. He blinked. The nanobots were working. A gradual shift from the oppressive white noise to the welcoming sounds of a city about its daily business.

As his sight returned he noticed the clock on the house control unit in which his robot waited while he slept.

‘Jessie. Why didn’t you wake me? I told you – 7am.’ Continue reading