Halfway home from the war but unable to take another step closer, I'd stomp through the sands at dusk, imagining I was Odysseus. Not the clever hero at the gates of Troy, but the wrecked Odysseus, the one trapped in strange places as he forgot his own name.
All of these writers are committed to speculative fiction for the long run. They value it as a literary and interpersonal community, and are actively working to improve their craft.
In isolated and remote regions Futurity sleeps for centuries only / to awaken refreshed with an accelerating appetite that can devour / generations.