J. Craig Wheeler

I'll date myself, but back in the day the Ed Sullivan Show (yes, I saw the Beatles) regularly hosted a juggler who would spin plates on the tops of rods. He would scramble around humorously but competently, starting a new plate spinning then dashing back to an earlier one that threatened to slow and topple. I thought of that regularly during my career as an astrophysicist. It turns out book writing in retirement is not much different.

On January 5 (see Blog #26) I finished a draft of my father's biography tentatively entitled Eniwetok (Enewetak in modern more ethnically correct spelling), the site of the first hydrogen bomb, which he personally witnessed: 126,000 words, 220 pages in Word. I need to do a rigorous editing but also found myself in a dilemma. My memory of what he did after retiring from the Apollo program in Houston to Colorado Springs was spotty. I knew he built two houses from scratch and helped my sister with her business selling Native American jewelry, but I was confused about the chronology. I remembered that I had a box of letters, mostly written by my mother, roughly weekly, spanning that era. I've been reading through those, making notes and refreshing my memory. It's a long, tedious process, but feels necessary to me to capture his final years.

In the spirit of The Path to Singularity, I've been reading two newspapers, and various online sources trying to keep up with the exponential growth of technology: AI, robots, brain research, genomics, climate change, and the impacts on business and democracy. I collect summaries on my Authors Guild web page and post more abbreviated versions on X and LinkedIn, using ChatGPT to construct those posts and provide hashtags. For a while I was trying to post daily, but that was too demanding, so I'm now shooting for three times a week, MWF. I've pondered moving or expanding this to Bluesky, Reddit, or Substack, but just have not found the time and energy to spin those plates. I have little idea that anyone is reading these posts. If you are so moved, follow me on X or LinkedIn.

I had this notion of publishing my collection of global travel stories, Tales from a Small Planet, as a way of getting something out while wrestling with Eniwetok. Having been turned down by The University of Texas Press, on 1/13/26 I submitted Tales to Texas Tech Press where cousin-in-law butterfly expert Bob Pyle has published and has a personal connection with the editor. I dropped Bob's name. On 2/19/26, I got a reply saying the stories were "really cool" but not compatible with their list. The editor suggested I try a publisher with "lists in the harder sciences." Geeze, the stories are all about the ironies of the human condition. There is not an equation in the whole collection. I'll have to re-spin that dish. 

In Blogs #22 and #23, I had mentioned trying to promote The Path to Singularity in college courses where it might serve as a text. My nephew-in-law got ChatGPT to make a list of possible courses and faculty, and I have been slowly making my way through that list. No responses yet. For some time, I have been enjoying NYT opinion pieces on technology by Zeynep Tufekci who had been at the University of North Carolina. I ran across a recent mention that she had moved to Columbia and then Princeton. Why not? I asked myself. I emailed Professor Tufekci on 1/14/26. So far, she has not replied. One other tidbit in that regard. One of the pioneers and superheroes of studies of the Singularity and AI superintelligence, Nick Bostrom, had been at Oxford for decades. He was on my list, and I finally decided to write him about the use of Path in classes at Oxford. I got a reply to that query from an administrator on 2/18/26. It seems that as of very recently, Bostrom is no longer associated with Oxford. I'll let you Google that if you care to follow up.

In mid-January, I spun up the Amazon ads plate again and managed to get my associated Amazon account up and running with a minimum of keywords (see Blog # 25). Then I got busy with the various things I am describing here and have not monitored it properly. In the last month, I've had 11,000 impressions, 8 clicks costing me an average of $0.31 apiece, and no sales. Hmmm.

When The Path to Singularity came out in November 2024, it was after the deadline for application to the University of Texas Hamilton Book award. I had to wait a year to apply. I did that on 1/21/26. Not holding my breath. I won an honorable mention in the competition years ago for Cosmic Catastrophes.

I've been regularly attending the Westbank Writers group at the West Lake Hills Laura Bush branch library, either in person or by Zoom on Monday afternoons at 5 pm. I wrote an autobiographical story about a New Year's Eve party in keeping with the theme of the Winter 2026 West End Writers Quarterly. That came out in mid-January. You can see my story and the whole issue. On January 19, in celebration of Martin Luther King Day, I read a short reminiscence of the 1963 March on Washington where King delivered his "I Have a Dream" speech. I was not there, but my boss at my summer job was. Here's a link. I also told a story I had never told anyone before about the dedication of the MLK statue on the East Mall of The University of Texas campus. I did attend that ceremony, but when it came to singing "We Shall Overcome," I did not realize everyone customarily linked hands. People around me had to link hands behind my oblivious back to keep the chain going. I was completely mortified.

I've also been attending functions of the Austin Forum on Science and Technology, especially the book discussions. On January 22, we scheduled a discussion of If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies, by Eliezer Yudkowsky and Nate Soares. That was a great discussion, but even before that, I had an intense email exchange with my cousins Bob Pyle and Bruce Campbell about the notion that artificial superintelligence would kill humans. Bruce was incensed at the title, accusing the authors of hype and selling out. He insisted that ASI would respect the precious consciousness of humans even though it was vastly inferior to that of the ASI. Bob and I were a bit more circumspect in both regards.

Then there were all the non-writing plates to tend: maintenance of body, cars, house, and computer, endless email, Zoom calls, observing proposals, letters of reference, some science. Spinning on.

Twenty-odd years ago, my son, Rob, and I wrote a screenplay based on my novel, The Krone Experiment. Rob made it into a full length, microbudget film. One of the best experiences of my life was watching the enthusiastic volunteer film crew turn my ideas into a movie. The film did not go anywhere at the time. One of the fantasies I harbor is that someday, somehow, I will strike a deal to remake the film with a proper budget, maybe with a streaming service. Last December, I listed the project with an online outfit called The Blacklist that makes screenplays available to professionals. I recently got the faintest whiff of interest from a young graduate of a film production school. That led me to wonder if my rights were properly protected. That, in turn, led me to wonder whether it is worth my while to set up a limited liability corporation, LLC, to protect and pass down the rights to my books and the screenplay. On June 23, my sons and I had an hour long Zoom call with a friend, a lawyer who handles such things. We decided that my current meager book income is too small to warrant such a step. My will is probably adequate, and if lightning should strike, we can cobble up an LLC in a couple of weeks.

I griped in a previous blog (#15) about my Prometheus publicist leaving and not hearing who her replacement would be. After another couple of weeks, I checked the Marketing and Sales information that Prometheus had originally provided to me and confirmed that after a certain interval, my book would be put on a backlist. I wrote to my agent, Regina Ryan, asking her opinion of the matter on June 24 and got a typical honest blunt reply. She was not sure about the formalities of a backlist but said that publishers often give books about three months to see whether they are going to flourish. We have not sold out the initial hardback print run - no one's idea of flourishing - a disappointment to me and those who supported and depended on me. I may have been lucky to get six month's support from Prometheus. On July 12, I realized that the Prometheus link to "Path" had been broken or removed. It turns out you can find the publisher's link to the book by tunneling into the Globe Pequot web site, but that means that the QR code on the special business cards that I have been handing out don't link directly to the book.

I had another idea to promote the book, a local TV appearance, and wrote to my editor again on July 14 about publicist assistance. The mail bounced. I then wrote to Regina and got a revised email, higher up the corporate structure at Globe Pequot rather than the Prometheus imprint, and wrote again on July 15. No response yet. I may forge ahead on my own.

In late June, I nominated myself and The Path to Singularity for a Chambliss Writing Award sponsored by the American Astronomical Society. I shared the award with my friend and colleague David Branch in 2017 for our book Supernova Explosions. The AAS is looking primarily for textbooks and may not want to duplicate an award. We'll see. On July 17, David and I got a note from our editor at Springer Verlag saying that the book was still doing remarkably well for a technical book of its sort and inquiring whether we might do a second edition. It's not that clear to either of us that much has changed in the intervening eight years.

I attended a webinar on June 26 presented by futurist Peter Diamandis on research progress on extending lifespans. Some have the goal of living long enough to live forever as aging is "cured." There were 785 people on the call. I was a little naughty. After Diamandis gave his pitch I wrote in the chat "In case you are interested, in The Path to Singularity (I embedded the link), I discuss some of the possible ramifications of extending lifetimes." At least one person DM'd me that she would buy my book.

I've been working on the logistics of delivering a keynote address to Tory Technologies in Houston in August (see also #15). Tory wanted to buy some books to hand to certain people and arrange to sell books to others that I could sign at the symposium. My cousin-in-law, naturalist and author Bob Pyle, told me that he tries to arrange local independent bookstores to handle book sales at his signings. I contacted one Houston bookstore that explicitly advertised that they handled such sales opportunities, but they declared they were already booked in August. I contacted a Houston Barnes and Noble but after a couple of days I had the insight to ask the first bookstore for another suggestion and they referred me to Good on Paper, which embraced my suggestion enthusiastically. If things work out, I'll do a book signing at their store after doing the Tory gig. I spoke to the CEO and CTO of Tory on a Zoom call. We agreed I would participate in a panel discussion as well as giving the keynote address and reviewed the coordination with Good on Paper for book sales. I've drafted my keynote in PowerPoint but still need to think about the panel discussion.

Bob Pyle recently read The Krone Experiment and the sequel, Krone Ascending (both available on Amazon). Then he read The Krone Experiment again and sent compliments which I deeply appreciated from an accomplished wordsmith. He also had a brilliant suggestion for a plot device for the third book in the series, Krone Triumphant, which remains on my bucket list.

I have a friend, John Tonetti, whom I met when he first serviced our rudimentary solar-boosted water heater 30 years ago. Shameless shill that I am, I had told him about "Path" on one of his recent service visits. On June 30, he emailed to say that he had listened to an Audible copy of the book as he drove his service truck, which he found to be "as stimulating, fascinating, and humiliating an experience as I have had since my days in Social Theory Seminars at the UT Austin Graduate School of Sociology some fifty years ago." He then listened again sitting at his desk and taking notes. I am deeply flattered.