Looking forward to an author’s talk in particular is a strange thing: I feel I know you, dear author, I’ve heard the voices in my head as if you were speaking to me and to me alone. And you don’t know me at all. Mr. Sacks and Ms. Roach, I swear I have not stalked you. I have just loved you intimately from afar. I read your books. I do have to apologize to Mary Roach though: I was broke in college when I read Stiff. Damn, it was good though.
Jill Tarter is going to be surreal. How does one get away with dreaming aloud such big crazy ideas? On second thought, why don’t we all? Crazy is a good way to get places sometimes. At least, there are many place we wouldn’t get to if we weren’t crazy…
The categories for the speakers laid out include “See” and “Predict”, which are all-male; “Understand”, “Discover” and The Prize itself are all female dominated. No judgment on that, I’m just noticing out loud.
I also have a list of people I’m really looking forward to see talk merely for their titles alone:
P. W. Singer, military analyst
Margaret Wertheim, figurer
Nathan Wolfe, virus hunter
Olafur Eliasson, sculptor of light and space (Full disclosure: I'm also a fan of Turrell's work with light as a medium from way back when I lived in AZ.)