Similarly, the posts do not represent the publisher’s opinion, except in a deep belief that free speech is worthy in and of itself.Ian Livingstone calls it the “five-fingered bookmark”: that grip known to children of the 80s and 90s. On the Bar, the publisher does not select what is allowed to be posted, and does not hijack an individual’s messages for their own purposes. This applies to posts at the Bar, or on social media, on their own websites, or indeed anywhere else. It is not Baen Books’ policy to police the opinions of its readers, its authors, its artists, its editors, or indeed anyone else. But we will not commit censorship of lawful speech. We take these allegations seriously, and consequently have put the Bar on hiatus while we investigate. That said, it has come to our attention that allegations about the Bar have been made elsewhere.
We have received no complaints about the content of the Bar from its users. We do not endorse the publication of unlawful speech. Some conversations have been gone over so many times, they’ve been retired as simply too boring to contemplate again. The readers, editors, and writers post and interact on the Bar at their own desire. Baen Books continued that tradition with Baen’s Bar, a kind of virtual convention and on-line conversation that has been around in some form for over 20 years. When the modern form of SF began, with Hugo Gernsback and the other pulp magazines of the early 20th century, the publishers fostered that interaction through letter columns in the magazines and by encouraging science fiction readers to organize in clubs and meet in conventions. But those who enjoy it, take great pleasure in the dialogue. Science fiction has traditionally been a unique kind of intellectual pleasure, a process of glorious intercommunication and inspiration, with ideas flowing from scientist and engineer to writer and artist, to reader and viewer, back and forth, in a delightful mélange of shared thoughts, wild speculation, cautionary tales, reality checks, and the sheer fun of playing with boundaries and ideas. What is it we do at Baen Books? We publish books at the heart of science fiction and fantasy.
Thankfully, when Meadow Village had been designed, the buildings had been spaced comfortably apart, oriented on a rounded green from which radiated six streets, each of which were crossed at intervals by another street, so that the village was designed around a series of concentric circles. Once out on the gravel walkway, Leeya dragged Pippea around the cottage as fast as she could, not stopping until they both were clear of anything that could fall on them from overhead.Įarthquakes weren’t precisely common in the vicinity of the Library of the Sapphire Wind, but when one worked for a library dedicated to the magical arts, one learned to take precautions first, ask questions later. Her rounded ursine ears twitched, catching the groan of the cottage’s beams as they complained beneath some uncommon stress.Īnd I was just getting the first peaks, Leeya thought, dropping bowl and whisk on the counter, grabbing Pippea around her trim waist, then swinging them both out the kitchen door into the early evening grey-light. As she did, she became aware that the floor was trembling under her feet. Leeya slowed her own steady assault on the bowl of egg whites she was frothing into meringue.
She ran her free hand over the tips of her newly budding horns in a habitual nervous gesture. Pippea’s enormous, long-lashed brown eyes-set within snow white hair accented by a dark stripe that ran from eyes to mouth-were creased with worry as she stared into her mixing bowl.
Whisk suspended in her upraised right hand, the young apprentice turned her elegant antilopine head toward the senior cook. “Leeya-toh, should the egg whites keep shaking after I stop beating them?” asked Pippea.