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Redshirts: A Novel with Three Codas Paperback – January 15, 2013

by John Scalzi (Author)

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Ensign Andrew Dahl has just been assigned to the Universal Union Capital Ship Intrepid, flagship of the Universal Union since the year 2456. It's a prestige posting, with the chance to serve on "Away Missions" alongside the starship's famous senior officers.

Life couldn't be better...until Andrew begins to realize that 1) every Away Mission involves a lethal confrontation with alien forces, 2) the ship's senior officers always survive these confrontations, and 3) sadly, at least one low-ranking crew member is invariably killed. Unsurprisingly, the savvier crew members below decks avoid Away Missions at all costs.

Then Andrew stumbles on information that transforms his and his colleagues' understanding of what the starship Intrepid really is...and offers them a crazy, high-risk chance to save their own lives.

Redshirts by John Scalzi is the winner of the 2013 Hugo Award for Best Novel.

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“John Scalzi sets his imagination to STUN and scores a direct hit. Read on and prosper.” ―Joe Hill, New York Times bestselling author of Heart-Shaped Box

“I can honestly say I can't think of another book that ever made me laugh this much. Ever.” ―Patrick Rothfuss, New York Times bestselling author of The Name of the Wind

“Scalzi takes apart the whole Star Trek universe and puts it back together far more plausibly--and a lot funnier too.” ―Lev Grossman, New York Times bestselling author of The Magicians

“A real joy to read… It's hard to imagine a reader who wouldn't enjoy this one.” ―Booklist, starred review

About the Author

JOHN SCALZI is one of the most popular SF authors of his generation. His debut Old Man's War won him the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. His New York Times bestsellers include The Last Colony, Fuzzy Nation,and Redshirts (which won the 2013 Hugo Award for Best Novel), and 2020's The Last Emperox. Material from his blog, Whatever, has also earned him two other Hugo Awards. Scalzi also serves as critic-at-large for the Los Angeles Times. He lives in Ohio with his wife and daughter.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Redshirts

A Novel with Three CodasBy John Scalzi

Tor Books

Copyright © 2013 John Scalzi
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780765334794
CHAPTER ONE

Ensign Andrew Dahl looked out the window of Earth Dock, the Universal Union’s space station above the planet Earth, and gazed at his next ship.
He gazed at the Intrepid.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” said a voice.
Dahl turned to see a young woman, dressed in a starship ensign’s uniform, also looking out toward the ship.
“She is,” Dahl agreed.
“The Universal Union Capital Ship Intrepid,” the young woman said. “Built in 2453 at the Mars Dock. Flagship of the Universal Union since 2456. First captain, Genevieve Shan. Lucius Abernathy, captain since 2462.”
“Are you the Intrepid’s tour guide?” Dahl asked, smiling.
“Are you a tourist?” the young woman asked, smiling back.
“No,” Dahl said, and held out his hand. “Andrew Dahl. I’ve been assigned to the Intrepid. I’m just waiting on the 1500 shuttle.”
The young woman took his hand. “Maia Duvall,” she said. “Also assigned to the Intrepid. Also waiting on the 1500 shuttle.”
“What a coincidence,” Dahl said.
“If you want to call two Dub U Space Fleet members waiting in a Dub U space station for a shuttle to the Dub U spaceship parked right outside the shuttle berth window a coincidence, sure,” Duvall said.
“Well, when you put it that way,” Dahl said.
“Why are you here so early?” Duvall asked. “It’s only now noon. I thought I would be the first one waiting for the shuttle.”
“I’m excited,” Dahl said. “This will be my first posting.” Duvall looked him over, a question in her eyes. “I went to the Academy a few years late,” he said.
“Why was that?” Duvall asked.
“It’s a long story,” Dahl said.
“We have time,” Duvall said. “How about we get some lunch and you tell me.”
“Uh,” Dahl said. “I’m kind of waiting for someone. A friend of mine. Who’s also been assigned to the Intrepid.”
“The food court is right over there,” Duvall said, motioning to the bank of stalls across the walkway. “Just send him or her a text. And if he misses it, we can see him from there. Come on. I’ll spring for the drinks.”
“Oh, well, in that case,” Dahl said. “If I turned down a free drink, they’d kick me out of Space Fleet.”
* * *
“I was promised a long story,” Duvall said, after they had gotten their food and drinks.
“I made no such promise,” Dahl said.
“The promise was implied,” Duvall protested. “And besides, I bought you a drink. I own you. Entertain me, Ensign Dahl.”
“All right, fine,” Dahl said. “I entered the Academy late because for three years I was a seminary student.”
“Okay, that’s moderately interesting,” Duvall said.
“On Forshan,” Dahl said
“Okay, that’s intensely interesting,” Duvall said. “So you’re a priest of the Forshan religion? Which schism?”
“The leftward schism, and no, not a priest.”
“Couldn’t handle the celibacy?”
“Leftward priests aren’t required to be celibate,” Dahl said, “but considering I was the only human at the seminary, I had celibacy thrust upon me, if you will.”
“Some people wouldn’t have let that stop them,” Duvall said.
“You haven’t seen a Forshan seminary student up close,” Dahl said. “Also, I don’t swing xeno.”
“Maybe you just haven’t found the right xeno,” Duvall said.
“I prefer humans,” Dahl said. “Call me boring.”
“Boring,” Duvall said, teasingly.
“And you’ve just pried into my personal preferences in land speed record time,” Dahl said. “If you’re this forward with someone you just met, I can only imagine what you’re like with people you’ve known for a long time.”
“Oh, I’m not like this with everyone,” Duvall said. “But I can tell I like you already. Anyway. Not a priest.”
“No. My technical status is ‘Foreign Penitent,’” Dahl said. “I was allowed to do the full course of study and perform some rites, but there were some physical requirements I would not have been able to perform for full ordination.”
“Like what?” Duvall asked.
“Self-impregnation, for one,” Dahl said.
“A small but highly relevant detail,” Duvall said.
“And here you were all concerned about celibacy,” Dahl said, and swigged from his drink.
“If you were never going to become a priest, why did you go to the seminary?” Duvall asked.
“I found the Forshan religion very restful,” Dahl said. “When I was younger that appealed to me. My parents died when I was young and I had a small inheritance, so I took it, paid tutors to learn the language and then traveled to Forshan and found a seminary that would take me. I planned to stay forever.”
“But you didn’t,” Duvall said. “I mean, obviously.”
Dahl smiled. “Well. I found the Forshan religion restful. I found the Forshan religious war less so.”
“Ah,” Duvall said. “But how does one get from Forshan seminary student to Academy graduate?”
“When the Dub U came to mediate between the religious factions on Forshan, they needed an interpreter, and I was on planet,” Dahl said. “There aren’t a lot of humans who speak more than one dialect of Forshan. I know all four of the major ones.”
“Impressive,” Duvall said.
“I’m good with my tongue,” Dahl said.
“Now who’s being forward?” Duvall asked.
“After the Dub U mission failed, it advised that all non-natives leave the planet,” Dahl said. “The head Dub U negotiator said that the Space Fleet had need of linguists and scientists and recommended me for a slot at the Academy. By that time my seminary had been burned to the ground and I had nowhere to go, or any money to get there even if I had. The Academy seemed like the best exit strategy. Spent four years there studying xenobiology and linguistics. And here I am.”
“That’s a good story,” Duvall said, and tipped her bottle toward Dahl.
He clinked it with his own. “Thanks,” he said. “What about yours?”
“Far less interesting,” Duvall said.
“I doubt that,” Dahl said.
“No Academy for me,” Duvall said. “I enlisted as a grunt for the Dub U peacekeepers. Did that for a couple of years and then transferred over to Space Fleet three years ago. Was on the Nantes up until this transfer.”
“Promotion?” Dahl said.
Duvall smirked. “Not exactly,” she said. “It’s best to call it a transfer due to personnel conflicts.”
Before Dahl could dig further his phone buzzed. He took it out and read the text on it. “Goof,” he said, smiling.
“What is it?” Duvall asked.
“Hold on a second,” Dahl said, and turned in his seat to wave at a young man standing in the middle of the station walkway. “We’re over here, Jimmy,” Dahl said. The young man grinned, waved back and headed over.
“The friend you’re waiting on, I presume,” Duvall said.
“That would be him,” Dahl said. “Jimmy Hanson.”
“Jimmy Hanson?” Duvall said. “Not related to James Hanson, CEO and chairman of Hanson Industries, surely.”
“James Albert Hanson the Fourth,” Dahl said. “His son.”
“Must be nice,” Duvall said.
“He could buy this space station with his allowance,” Dahl said. “But he’s not like that.”
“What do you mean?” Duvall said.
“Hey, guys,” Hanson said, finally making his way to the table. He looked at Duvall, and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jimmy.”
“Maia,” Duvall said, extending her hand. They shook.
“So, you’re a friend of Andy’s, right?” Hanson said.
“I am,” Duvall said. “He and I go way back. All of a half hour.”
“Great,” Hanson said, and smiled. “He and I go back slightly farther.”
“I would hope so,” Duvall said.
“I’m going to get myself something to drink,” Hanson said. “You guys want anything? Want me to get you another round?”
“I’m fine,” Dahl said.
“I could go for another,” Duvall said, waggling her nearly empty bottle.
“One of the same?” Hanson asked.
“Sure,” Duvall said.
“Great,” Hanson said, and clapped his hands together. “So, I’ll be right back. Keep this chair for me?”
“You got it,” Dahl said. Hanson wandered off in search of food and drink.
“He seems nice,” Duvall said.
“He is,” Dahl said.
“Not hugely full of personality,” Duvall said.
“He has other qualities,” Dahl said.
“Like paying for drinks,” Duvall said.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what I was thinking of,” Dahl said.
“You mind if I ask you a personal question?” Duvall said.
“Seeing as we’ve already covered my sexual preferences in this conversation, no,” Dahl said.
“Were you friends with Jimmy before you knew his dad could buy an entire planet or two?” Duvall asked.
Dahl paused a moment before answering. “Do you know how the rich are different than you or me?” he asked Duvall.
“You mean, besides having more money,” Duvall said.
“Yeah,” Dahl said.
“No,” Duvall said.
“What makes them different—the smart ones, anyway—is that they have a very good sense of why people want to be near them. Whether it’s because they want to be friends, which is not about proximity to money and access and power, or if they want to be part of an entourage, which is. Make sense?”
“Sure,” Duvall said.
“Okay,” Dahl said. “So, here’s the thing. When Jimmy was young, he figured out that his father was one of the richest men in the Dub U. Then he figured out that one day, he would be too. Then he figured out that there were a lot of other people who would try to use the first two things to their own advantage. Then he figured out how to avoid those people.”
“Got it,” Duvall said. “Jimmy would know if you were just being nice to him because of who his daddy was.”
“It was really interesting watching him our first few weeks at the Academy,” Dahl said. “Some of the cadets—and some of our instructors—tried to make themselves his friend. I think they were surprised how quickly this rich kid had their number. He’s had enough time to be extraordinarily good at reading people. He has to be.”
“So how did you approach him?” Duvall said.
“I didn’t,” Dahl said. “He came over and started talking to me. I think he realized I didn’t care who his dad was.”
“Everybody loves you,” Duvall said.
“Well, that, and I was getting an A in the biology course he was having trouble with,” Dahl said. “Just because Jimmy’s picky about his companions doesn’t mean he’s not self-interested.”
“He seemed to be willing to consider me a friend,” Duvall said.
“That’s because he thinks we’re friends, and he trusts my judgment,” Dahl said.
“And are we?” Duvall said. “Friends, I mean.”
“You’re a little more hyper than I normally like,” Dahl said.
“Yeah, I get that ‘I like things restful’ vibe from you,” Duvall said.
“I take it you don’t do restful,” Dahl said.
“I sleep from time to time,” Duvall said. “Otherwise, no.”
“I suppose I’ll have to adjust,” Dahl said.
“I suppose you will,” Duvall said.
“I have drinks,” Hanson said, coming up behind Duvall.
“Why, Jimmy,” Duvall said. “That makes you my new favorite person.”
“Excellent,” Hanson said, offered Duvall her drink, and sat down at the table. “So, what are we talking about?”
* * *
Just before the shuttle arrived, two more people arrived at the waiting area. More accurately, five people arrived: two crewmen, accompanied by three members of the military police. Duvall nudged Dahl and Hanson, who looked over. One of the crewmen noticed and cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, I have an entourage,” he said.
Duvall ignored him and addressed one of the MPs. “What’s his story?”
The MP motioned to the one with a cocked eyebrow. “Various charges for this one, including smuggling, selling contraband and assaulting a superior officer.” She then motioned to the other crewman, who was standing there sullenly, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. “That poor bastard is this one’s friend. He’s tainted by association.”
“The assault charge is trumped up,” said the first ensign. “The XO was high as a kite.”
“On drugs you gave him,” said the second crewman, still not looking at anyone else.
“No one can prove I gave them to him, and anyway they weren’t drugs,” said the first. “They were an offworld fungus. And it couldn’t have been that. The fungus relaxes people, not makes them attack anyone in the room, requiring them to defend themselves.”
“You gave him Xeno-pseudoagaricus, didn’t you,” Dahl said.
The first crewman looked at Dahl. “As I already said, no one can prove I gave the XO anything,” he said. “And maybe.”
“Xeno-pseudoagaricus naturally produces a chemical that in most humans provides a relaxing effect,” Dahl said. “But in about one-tenth of one percent of people, it does the opposite. The receptors in their brains are slightly different from everyone else’s. And of those people, about one-tenth of one percent will go berserk under its influence. Sounds like your XO is one of those people.”
“Who are you, who is so wise in the way of alien fungus?” said the crewman.
“Someone who knows that no matter what, you don’t deal upward on the chain of command,” Dahl said. The crewman grinned.
“So why aren’t you in the brig?” Duvall asked.
The crewman motioned to Dahl. “Ask your friend, he’s so smart,” he said. Duvall looked to Dahl, who shrugged.
“Xeno-pseudoagaricus isn’t illegal,” Dahl said. “It’s just not very smart to use it. You’d have to either study xenobiology or have an interest in off-brand not-technically-illegal alien mood enhancers, possibly for entrepreneurial purposes.”
“Ah,” Duvall said.
“If I had to guess,” Dahl said, “I’m guessing our friend here—”
“Finn,” said the crewman, and nodded to the other one. “And that’s Hester.”
“—our friend Finn had a reputation at his last posting for being the guy to go to for substances that would let you pass a urine test.”
Hester snorted at this.
“I’m also guessing that his XO probably doesn’t want it known that he was taking drugs—”
“Fungus,” said Finn.
“—of any sort, and that in any event when the Xeno-pseudoagaricus made him go nuts, he attacked and Finn here was technically defending himself when he fought back. So rather than put Finn in the brig and open up an ugly can of worms, better to transfer him quietly.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny this interpretation of events,” Finn said.
“Then what’s with the MPs?” Hanson asked.
“They’re here to make sure we get on the Intrepid without any detours,” said Hester. “They don’t want him renewing his stash.” Finn rolled his eyes at this.
Duvall looked at Hester. “I’m sensing bitterness here.”
Hester finally made eye contact. “The bastard hid his stash in my foot locker,” he said, to Duvall.
“And you didn’t know?” Duvall asked.
“He told me they were candies, and that if the other crew knew he had them, they’d sneak into his foot locker to take them.”
“They would have,” Finn said. “And in my defense, everything was candied.”
“You also said they were for your mother,” Hester said.
“Yes, well,” Finn said. “I did lie about that part.”
“I tried to tell that to the captain and the XO, but they didn’t care,” Hester said. “As far as they were concerned I was an accomplice. I don’t even like him.”
“Then why did you agree to hold his … candies?” Duvall said. Hester mumbled something inaudible and broke eye contact.
“He did it because I was being nice to him, and he doesn’t have friends,” Finn said.
“So you took advantage of him,” Hanson said.
“I don’t dislike him,” Finn said. “And it’s not like I meant for him to get in trouble. He shouldn’t have gotten in trouble. Nothing in the stash was illegal. But then our XO went nuts and tried to rearrange my bone structure.”
“You probably should have known your product line better,” Dahl said.
“The next time I get something, I’ll run it by you first,” Finn said sarcastically, and then motioned toward the window, where the shuttle could be seen approaching the berth. “But it’s going to have to wait. Looks like our ride is here.”

Copyright © 2012 by John Scalzi

Continues...
Excerpted from Redshirts by John Scalzi Copyright © 2013 by John Scalzi. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Product details

Publisher ‏ : ‎ Tor Books; First Edition (January 15, 2013)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 320 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 0765334798
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-0765334794
Item Weight ‏ : ‎ 9.9 ounces
Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 5.5 x 0.88 x 8.17 inches

Best Sellers Rank: #906,441 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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John Scalzi

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John Scalzi writes books, which, considering where you're reading this, makes perfect sense. He's best known for writing science fiction, including the New York Times bestseller "Redshirts," which won the Hugo Award for Best Novel. He also writes non-fiction, on subjects ranging from personal finance to astronomy to film, was the Creative Consultant for the Stargate: Universe television series. He enjoys pie, as should all right thinking people. You can get to his blog by typing the word "Whatever" into Google. No, seriously, try it.

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JTF

Redshirts - a strangely thought-provoking funny book.

Reviewed in the United States on April 24, 2013

Verified Purchase

It's a familiar meme: don't wear a red shirt on the deck of the U.S.S. Enterprise; if you do, you're likely to be killed before the first commercial break.

This not-so-inside Trekkie joke became the basis for novel of the same name by John Scalzi. Heck, there's even a Redshirt song by Jonathan Coulton (of Code Monkey fame; speaking of which, there's a graphic novel Kickstarter project and a related album of Coulton's). Clearly, Mr. Scalzi is jumping onto a fairly main-stream meme (hey, even I heard about it).

So, I hunkered down, ready for some inside Trekkie references and some serious fun. Redshirts does not disappoint on that score. It begins as expected with funny, light banter about junior officer life in space and fodder for various life forms they encounter; away missions and survival tend to be mutually exclusive for the junior officers. Soon, however, it dives a bit deeper - the senior officers go from normal to cliché in 7.6 seconds and then, flip back. Even Star Fleet officers typically don't do that. You get the picture; to say more, I'll need to leak some of the story. Before I continue on to the spoiler version of the review below, let me say a few things I'll attempt to substantiate below:

- Mr. Scalzi does a good job building the relationships and defining the characters in the first half of the book. Those characters grow considerably in the second half of the book.

- Speaking of the second part of the book, a relatively surprising shift takes place that moves the dialog onto a bit more speculative and less comical ground.

- The three Codas at the end of the book are a non-trivial; they address some very interesting and often overlooked issues and perspectives. Do not blow by these. My view is that they take a really good book to the next level of excellence.

- I believe that you could enjoy the book without being a Star Trek (or even SciFi) fan. Most who read it will be both, but it's not necessary to lock in.

- I went between listening to the Audible book, ably read by Will Wheaton of Wesley Crusher fame on Star Trek: The Next Generation (TNG) and the Kindle edition. Mr. Wheaton is able to convey both the humor, the action and the issues equally well. (If you don't already, follow him on Twitter @wilw. He's both funny and has some interesting insights; mostly funny. Pet Peave timeout - my dear developer friends at Audible, please get Whispersync for Voice working on Windows Phone 8 so that I can pick up where I left off on my Kindle Paperwhite. It's a fabulous feature. Overall, I love the app, but it could stand that improvement. Thanks. Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.

- My one disappointment: while I understand that Mr. Scalzi is reflecting military life (and that this isn't his father's Star Trek), the language was overly foul. All that needed to be accomplished could have been done so with brief forays into foul language land, instead, we move in and occupy it.

****SPOILER ALERT****

It turns out that our intrepid crew, yes pun intended, of the U.U. Intrepid, were really part of a future show that used Star Trek as its basis; a sort of Star Trek remix. The writers often used cheap dramatic tricks of death, destruction and mayhem to keep their audience interested; the tricks were typically played on the Redshirts. The book goes from mere fun to interesting when the junior officers, led by Ensign Andrew Dahl, figure out that they are part of a show. Now, not only do they know the challenges of going on away missions in red, they are cognitive of the fact that they're bit players in a show. Mr. Scalzi handles this awareness very well, and he takes it head on. He has Dahl and friends meet the show's producers; they come into contact with their doppelgängers and attempt to right many wrongs and make the alternate universe safe(r) for democracy. This is adroitly done with no over-long back-story; rather Mr. Scalzi takes you from what you think will be the main, light fun meat of the book and uses it to build the characters and relationships so that, by the time awareness dawns and producers are met, we know the characters, care about them and their relationships and are ready to walk with our new friends in unexpected directions.

The characters now become involved with the lives of the "real world" folks; albeit some involuntarily like Lt. Kerensky and some more intimately like Jasper Hester. I do want you to read it, so I won't say anything more other than, it works. That's saying a lot. A character meeting themselves in the real world when they were a bit part the "real" person nearly forgot they played is nearly the embodiment of "awkward". Yet they meet and move on.
Some of the most interesting parts comes in the codas - what would you do if, as a script writer, you discovered people actually died, in some alternate world, when you killed your characters off? You couldn't very well continue knocking them off. Now what? You still need tension and story. But wait, what if even angst over this question is covering up a deeper issue. Now, we're talking. Yes, John Scalzi goes there.

What if your characters meet and, for the first time, you receive "tough love" feedback from someone you can trust, your other self. He goes there too.

Finally, what if the "story" dead spouse of an unhinged husband has a counterpart who drifts because she knows there something else, a sense of loss or missing connection?

All of these are examined in the context of story, not simply self-reflected dialog.

So, while I thought Redshirts would be fun, and it was, it was also thought provoking, had some drama going down and some characters growing up. Well done Mr. Scalzi.

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Carolyn

New Scalzi fan

Reviewed in the United States on April 17, 2024

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Winks to Star Trek..but so much more. Really cool story.

Reviewed in the United States on April 18, 2024

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I love science fiction and this is such a mind-bending book. So not what I was expecting.
absolutely brilliant I can't describe it you just have to read it

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Taras

Decent "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Aren't Dead", but the bad may easily outweigh the good for some

Reviewed in the United States on June 8, 2016

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Redshirts, which could have been called Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Hijack the Ship to Cuba, features an endearing premise that Scalzi admits (in these same pages) has been visited before by other authors in a variety of media, that a character in a work of fiction gains awareness of the "Narrative" dictating their actions, and tries to understand or change their fate.

If that isn't meta enough for you, the later sections of the book only take this to excess. This book was published by Tor. Will Scalzi mention the anonymous browsing network Tor in his books by Tor? You bet he does. It's that kind of book.

It should have been a good match for me, since I enjoy Scalzi, heady SF, and Star Trek (which is not so heady SF)... but it was an uneven read and I can see how the bad can easily outweigh the good for some.

By way of clarification I should first retract "bad". Redshirts is not bad, not even parts of Redshirts is bad. Scalzi spends the entirety of Coda I expressing the difference between good, bad and just uninspired, which I partially agree with, but which unfortunately is an awkward meta conversation to have in a book that has some of the same issues it brings up. Bad is the show the characters are in. A large part of Redshirts is just uninspired.

Many of the other 3-star reviews here have got it right. If the book consists of a main novel with three acts, followed by three extended codas (really just connected short stories), and if I were appraising these each separately, I would have to put it like this: First act is great, everything working together from humor to tempo. Second act, really pretty competant, but not satisfying, if only because it is here that you see everything that is going to happen in the last third of the book and how that's going to resolve, and that is the weakest section of the entire thing (including the last three stories). The pacing is perfect in the first part, drags in the second, and is rushed in the third. Even the humor seems to work better in the beginning than the end. The only thing that's constant is the quality of the dialogue. It is a quick read, though. If you enjoyed at least the first part, you'll likely finish it in a single sitting.

The codas are even more uneven, but the most problematic thing about them is each follows characters introduced in the last third of the book, some of them only having a couple of lines. It is awkward for characters like that to each have their own short story - and really these are all the codas of their stories. It isn't "a novel with three codas" as in codas to the novel, the codas are caps on the ends of three individual but interconnected stories whose first parts are either present in the novel proper or merely inferred.

Coda I is separate from the others because it doesn't exist to give us closure or detail about its principal character. It exists to discuss the bad name SF has acquired for itself in television over the last fifty years or so. It is an especially unfortunate problem to have since we live in an age where smarter, tighter audiences are starting to go looking to television for quality and films and books are becoming broader and dumber (something I believe is equal fault viewers, exec groupthink, and because challenging scripts play poorly when subbed in Southeast Asia, but that's getting off the point). In fact all of Coda I is off the point, other than being conceived as a humor piece, and I really think should have been omitted. It is neither the complex discussion it should have been about where SF is going and why, nor does it give us anything useful or new about its principal character. I would have been much happier if Scalzi had left the character out of it and written an updated multimedia counterpart to Michael Swanwick's A User's Guide to the Postmoderns. Definitely the most 'meta' of the sections (yes, I use Scrivener, too, man, probably shouldn't have compiled this part).

Coda II was my least favorite. It has nothing much to say, and what it does have to say I really don't think is worth saying. In keeping with the meta-theme, Coda II actually tells you it has nothing to say that you haven't already heard from overbearing relatives, in almost those words, no less.

The plot of Coda III, which has the most minor character in the entire book as its subject, is the most nonsensical and belief-unsuspending section, and this beats out even a fictional unvierse co-existing with a fictional universe co-existing with a 'real'-er one, flying a ship into a black hole, wishing bits of a narrative into place, and living like a yeti in a tunnel for years with a portable potty as your only friend. The end wraps up nicely. It is a bittersweet, satisfying conclusion that makes you go "Awww." But the character's motivation to do any of the things she does still makes zero sense to me.

This book is so short, that it's honestly still a fine introduction to the author. The central idea and novel proper work well enough that I don't see how it will really turn anyone away who would be interested in his more well-received titles.

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jesica love

A Silly Good Time

Reviewed in the United States on January 18, 2024

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I read my first Scalzi book at the end of next year and immediately knew I had to read more. A neighbor recommended this one and I'm officially a fan. His books are completely absurd and out there and they're hilarious and I love them.
Redshirts is set on a starship in the future. If you've watched Star Trek or really just know pop culture, you'll know that the redshirts always die. And in this story, they start noticing and decide to do something about it.
It's a fun time. I'll admit I liked Starter Villain better, but that one had spy cats, so you know... This one is a good silly time too. Recommend.

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Margo L Chynoweth Merola

A fun read

Reviewed in the United States on April 22, 2024

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If you are a Star Trek fan you must read this book.

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rajit

Love the repartee between characters!

Reviewed in Canada on March 20, 2024

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As a SC fan who loves ST, Redshirts made my inner geek happy!

Karina

amazing

Reviewed in Brazil on January 30, 2022

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Amei cada parágrafo desse livro e qualquer pessoa que goste de ficção científica deveria lê-lo.
Precisa ter visto algo de Star Trek tbm pra não ficar perdido nas referências.

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Jonathan Corradine

Absolutely Brilliant!

Reviewed in the United Kingdom on April 3, 2024

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A joy to read (almost reads itself).

Especially recommended for Star Trek fans.

Also very funny within itself (so probably good
for others as well).

Aniket

He’s good with premises but gets too self righteous

Reviewed in India on February 2, 2024

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He had a good idea and a decent plot, upto a point. You can really feel when the story runs out.
I picked up another book of his and it’s written in the same voice. The same “catcher in the rye” voice that gets grating after a while.
Remember to respond with compassion instead of useless frustration at an injustice.

Amazon Customer

Great tongue in cheek SIFI

Reviewed in Germany on November 23, 2018

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John Scalzi takes a known phenomena (red shhirts) from a well known SIFI TV series and turns it into a fast paced Story of its own. Great read and kept the reader on their toes all the time.

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