The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.

Posted by Athena Scalzi

https://whatever.scalzi.com/2025/06/05/the-big-idea-ryk-e-spoor-11/

https://whatever.scalzi.com/?p=55942

A heart attack, life and all its craziness, and the loss of a close friend certainly threw a wrench (or multiple wrenches) into author Ryk E. Spoor’s life, but it didn’t stop him from writing this novel. Come along in his Big Idea for his newest novel, Fenrir, and read not only a story about perseverance, but a lovely tribute to a friend.

RYK E. SPOOR:

The Final Collaboration

Most of my readers know that I have worked with Eric Flint on multiple books – the Boundary series, the Castaway Planet books, and our first collaboration, Diamonds Are Forever. Most also know that it was through a long process – starting with me insulting his editing skills on Usenet – that led to Eric getting me published at Baen to begin with. Eric Flint was a mentor, a gadfly, a collaborator, and a friend of inestimable value to me. 

When we’d brought the Boundaryverse to a close with Castaway Resolution, we’d already been bouncing around different ideas for another collaboration. There was an odd alternate-universe fantasy concept, a few scattered other ideas, but we both ended up coming back to our successful collaboration in a genre neither of us tackled well alone: hard-edged SF along the lines of Boundary or other people’s work like Weir’s The Martian. 

After a few false starts, and a lot of discussion, we came up with the idea of a First Contact novel which changes up the usual approaches to this. There are a number of stories that have the aliens show up in our solar system for some purpose of their own, and at varying levels of technology (Footfall, The Jupiter Theft, etc.); there are others in which the ship in question is either automated or a derelict (Rendezvous With Rama, All Judgment Fled, etc.). We decided to intersect these by having the alien vessel approach, then experience an unknown accident that turned it into an apparent derelict. 

We created a rough outline, got a contract to write the book, titled Fenrir – and Eric became extremely busy, and then had a number of health issues, which slowed down our collaboration. I was also busy writing other books, and going through my own difficulties, at the time. COVID also intervened to make everything more complicated – and afterward, I had a heart attack of my own. But we did manage to hammer out some details, and I eventually started work on the story itself, with Eric still working on some of the key background and eventual resolution details. Naturally, whenever you’re making a new book in a new universe, you have a lot of worldbuilding to do – and you want the world to support potential sequels, as “get a long-term series” is the holy grail of a would-be professional writer. David Weber has Honor Harrington, Jim Butcher has Harry Dresden, and Eric had 1632. 

Then, one day, I picked up the phone and called Eric with a key question on the direction I was planning to take the book. No one answered, but that wasn’t terribly unusual; I figured I’d call him again tomorrow. 

I never would, though, because somewhere around the time I was calling him, Eric Flint had already passed.

His loss was felt throughout a large portion of the SF community, and none more than the multiple authors he had supported and shepherded through the beginnings of their careers – I was only one such. His publishing company, Ring of Fire Press, failed without him – which happened to include a number of my more recent books. The consequences of his passing continued for quite some time, not just for me but for other people and even the companies he had been working with. Eric had been, well, a very busy guy.

With respect to Fenrir, I felt like I’d been shot in the gut; the idea of trying to finish one of our hard-SF collaborations without Eric to provide advice, backstop, and occasional deflation of my usual space opera/melodramatic preferences was paralyzing in its quiet terror. There were huge open questions we’d just been working on when he passed, and I knew from work on Threshold, Portal, and the Castaway Planet books that my off-the-cuff inventions often improved drastically with Eric’s dry, measured, experienced input. 

But… I had a contract. I had notes. Despite my occasional impostor syndrome, I had, in fact, written those several hard-SF novels, and they’d been fairly well received. And I had Eric’s memory – his sometimes gravelly voice, his incisive and occasionally sledgehammer-hard advice, his approach to analyzing what I’d done to make it better, and, most of all, the times he’d simply kicked me into DOING things because he wouldn’t let me convince myself I couldn’t do them.

Once I’d recovered, I made myself start anew. And – sometimes with that phantom voice correcting me – I began to see how I could finish Fenrir. It wouldn’t be exactly what I’d have written with Eric; it was a fool’s errand to try to pretend I was also Eric Flint. But it was still born of both our concepts, still built on things he’d done as well as my own ideas. And slowly, it began to come together. I began to hear Stephanie Bronson speaking to me, learned about the conflicted motives of the sinister yet earnest Group that wanted humanity to just wait a little until we were sure the “Fens” were nicely dead before going to their ship; I dug into the size and power of the immense ship we called Fenrir and its owners called Tulima Ohn. I chose key technologies that weren’t utterly ridiculous to be the core of Earth’s interest, above and beyond just the appearance of another species. 

And I had a sketch that Eric had made of some very peculiar-looking creatures, his rough vision of the “Fens” – and from that sketch I found myself meeting Imjanai and Mordanthine and starting to understand the civilization that had come so far to discover our own. 

I took some old, fan-favorite technology and found a new coat of modern paint that would make it work for the story; found a ridiculous but not scientifically impossible way for Fenrir to cross the gulf between the stars, and figured out just how terrifyingly huge its energy requirements were. 

And in the end, I even figured out why Fenrir – Tulima Ohn – had made its journey across light-years to our distant solar system.

In its final form, Fenrir tells the story of the human race overcoming its own worst impulses to show its best side, and of another species facing fear and uncertainty to discover survival and friendship. It may not be exactly what would have been written if Eric Flint were still with us – but it is still, inarguably and absolutely, a new hard-SF novel written by both Eric Flint and Ryk E. Spoor. I would like to think that Eric would read it and say “You got a little carried away, Ryk… but it’s still a damned good yarn.”

And of course, I hope all of you will too. Thanks to you, readers, thanks to John Scalzi for this space – and above all, thanks to you, Eric.

Fenrir: Amazon|Barnes & Noble

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https://whatever.scalzi.com/2025/06/05/the-big-idea-ryk-e-spoor-11/

https://whatever.scalzi.com/?p=55942