William Gibson
William Gibson
William Ford Gibsonis an American and Canadian speculative fiction writer and essayist widely credited with pioneering the science fiction subgenre known as cyberpunk. Beginning his writing career in the late 1970s, his early works were bleak, noir, near-future stories that explored the effects of technology, cybernetics, and computer networks on humans—a "combination of lowlife and high tech"—and helped to create an iconography for the information age before the ubiquity of the Internet in the 1990s...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth17 March 1948
CityConway, SC
CountryUnited States of America
The future's here already. It's just unevenly distributed.
If ignorance were enough to make things not exist, the world would be more like a lot of people think it is. But it's not. And it's not.
It doesn't matter how fast your modem is if you're being shelled by ethnic separatists.
We are that strange species that constructs artifacts intended to counter the natural flow of forgetting.
The prefix cyber is going the way of the prefix electro,
My problem is that all things are increasingly interesting to me
This perpetual toggling between nothing being new, under the sun, and everything having very recently changed, absolutely, is perhaps the central driving tension of my work.
Somewhere, deep within her, surfaces a tiny clockwork submarine. There are times when you can only take the next step. And then another.
The written word still enjoyed a certain prestige here. It was a sluggish country.
The future is here - it just has not been uniformly distributed.
The street has its own use for things.
When I began to write fiction that I knew would be published as science fiction, [and] part of what I brought to it was the critical knowledge that science fiction was always about the period in which it was written.
That's something that tends to happen with new technologies generally: The most interesting applications turn up on a battlefield, or in a gallery.
If you’re fifteen or so, today, I suspect that you inhabit a sort of endless digital Now, a state of atemporality enabled by our increasingly efficient communal prosthetic memory. I also suspect that you don’t know it, because, as anthropologists tell us, one cannot know one’s own culture.