Isaac Asimov Non Fiction Books Novels & Stories

Instead, she spotted a battered cardboard box, which she pulled out by one of its flaps. The box was filled with books similar to the one she found on the floor—tattered and yellowing, adorned with somewhat cheesy cover art. Except for a few classics by authors like Verne and Wells, most of them fell into the sci-fi genre. Cole admitted to losing interest in this type of literature after a few pages of convoluted descriptions. However, she recognized some of the titles because she had been repeatedly told that she should read them: Asimov, Russ, Vonarburg, Bradbury, Heinlein, Bujold, Engh, Le Guin.

It wasn't all Jamal in there. "I used to read a lot of science fiction too, when I was your age. Do you have a favorite author?" I asked. He hesitated, and then said, "I like Isaac Asimov. He writes very smart stories." I nodded, impressed. Isaac Asimov was one of my favorite authors too, and I had read all of his books. "I like him too. He was a genius. Do you know that he wrote over 500 books, on different topics, not just science fiction?" I asked.

It was mine. I knew this because of the round sticker on the keyboard’s cover, of a robot—I think from the cover of an Issac Asimov novel—sitting on a cliff, watching a sky turning purple-orange at sunset. The sticker came in the mail with my subscription to Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine. One of the many speculative magazines I’d consumed during college (along with Cemetery Dance and Twilight Zone Magazine) as I pounded out stories on that gray Texas Instruments 8010 electric word processor in my attempts to become a writer.

Michael leans across to look, shaking his head slightly but also smiling. ".... Asimov's 'The Gods Themselves', 'Fundamentals of Physics: Mechanics, Relativity, and Thermodynamics', 'The Complete Sherlock Holmes', Lovelock's 'Gaia', 'Pride and Prejudice'.... An eclectic mix." He opens a copy of what looks like a volume on astronomy, flicking through the pages and chuckling. "Have you considered specialising?" She snorts. "Specialisation is for insects...." James halts in his examination of the volume in his hand, frowning as he stares into space. "That's a quote, isn't it?"