So, the neighbor's cat looks up at me and meows.
"What? You want in my house?" I ask, looking into his yellow eyes which are fixed on me, compelling me to interact with him.
He looks 'hopefully' into my eyes.
"You think if you stare at me, I'm gonna get all mushy and gooey and let you enjoy some of this delicious cooked chicken I just bought, and what I plan to put on my plate as soon as I open this door?"
His lower jaw trembles as a pathetic mew stutters from his lips. He winds his black and white fuzzy body around my legs, and then a loud purr bursts from him, vibrating against my calf. He's certain he has won.
You know what? He has. I hold the screen door open for him.
‘Fuzzy Nation’ had me at when the main character: "Holloway stared back at the cat. It took him a second to remember that he didn't own a cat. It took him a second after that to remember that cats didn't usually stand on two legs."
I was squealing like a girl! Wait. That's because I am a girl, even though my hair be sprinkled with grey.
Jack Holloway's personality is best described as having the crust of a 1930's lawless entrepreneur overlying the sophisticated veneer of a lawyer, which is what he was on Earth. He has the mind of a Wall Street quant - able to think three steps ahead in a multidimensional game, but he hides this most valuable asset. Instead, he is playing at the job of land surveyor for a rapacious mining company, which is intent on taking apart a life-filled planet. However, the animals on Zarathustra are not sentient, an important legal certification which allows ZaraCorp's extraction of the planet's mineral wealth.
Jack has a prefabricated tree house he has built on the boundary of one of the forests which mostly cover the raptor populated planet, staying one step ahead of his creditors, ZaraCorp's ruthless contract negotiations with its contractors such as himself, and the law. If he's very good, Holloway could soon be very very rich, having discovered by accident rare jewels when he accidentally blows the face of a cliff off. Or rather, his dog Carl, blows it up, since Holloway has illegally trained his dog to push the button for the explosives to be set off. He's already been in trouble for this and has made enemies. But both he and Carl love it, so he still is having Carl do it secretly. After all, as a contractor, he is mostly on his own flying his skimmer around the land he is contracted to survey on the sparsely populated planet. He is efficient at dealing with the employees of the mining company, never forgetting they are his adversaries, not his friends, intent as they are to hire him for the least money. He is doing well enough.
Until the incredibly cute fuzzy cat thing is looking at him through his window.
When I was 13, my two favorite things was my kitty and a television show called 'The Man from U.N.C.L.E. When my creative writing teacher asked our class to write for our final term paper a thirty page short story, I started on mine right away. I knew what story I had to put down. Hadn't I been writing it in my head already during my daydreaming?
Drum roll please......
Secret Agent KITTY! Talking educated cats! Spy cats with ray guns! Heroic cats who save the Earth from a terrible weapon developed by the evil agency, R.A.T.S.! But never fear, Sweetie will save the day with a swish from her tail and her sidekick, Rascal!
I got an A.
Fortunately, my story has been lost in the mists of time. Whatever my teacher may have actually thought about my silly heroine she never said. If she liked science fiction at all, she must have read the hundreds of excellent books created by my competition, who had the jump on me in age, wisdom and talent.
Not only did the original science fiction authors blow my generation's minds with their never before imagined serious and heart-rending moralistic space adventures, after them were decades of a writer explosion in extrapolated scientific imagination and snarky baby boomer humor that the 'golden' era of science fiction couldn't match. We boomers, as children, actually saw the first human being walk on the moon on live television. The only early movie which initiated what boomer science fiction was to become was 'The Thing from Another World' in 1951. The fast talking smart dialogue of that script has become the staple of most youth-oriented movies, comics and books, with the science fiction genre especially producing blockbuster verbal cleverness.
Now, after 100 years of development (starting with H.G.Wells, IMHO, although I know that can be argued), science fiction has truly entered another era - the fine-tuned HD voice which has assimilated everything from before and is now rebooting it all in extrapolated creativity and knowing mockery, yet underlying it still is a serious moral adventure, in this instance an indigenous species in the way of a for-profit industrial corporation. Mature genres may be finished in saying something new, but now they are having fun reshaping the familiar into exciting new stories.
Take the movie dialogue of 'His Girl Friday' (1940) and 'The Thing from Another World' combine it with comic book angst and urban cynicism, mix it well with quant logic and analytical strategic intelligence and science - and the result is now usually my joy. For me, this book is part of that well-done rebooting of familiar themes. John Scalzi is SO good at this!
I highly recommend this book.