Science fiction and fantasy author Becky Chambers gave a short talk at JPL last week. We were all expecting a fun conversation, probably accompanied by a powerpoint presentation, about what it’s like to be a science fiction writer. Instead she gave us so much more. Chambers’s talk was essentially a love letter letter to space exploration, a discussion of why science fiction matters, and a reflections on being a queer woman in a cis-white-male dominated community. There was no powerpoint, no flashy animations, no bullet points. Just words spoken from a pre-written presentation. The result was one of the most impactful presentations I’ve ever seen and definitely has me rethinking how I approach public talks in the future.

Chambers was kind enough to share her own transcript of the talk with us and here is an excerpt.

Can she even see anything here in the city?” Can she see much? No, of course not. New York City is an astronomer’s nightmare. But she can see something, and that’s the crux of why I think stargazing is important. It’s the same reason that I find watching bugs in the woods behind my house important, which is the same reason I think traveling is important, or staying up all night having a long conversation is important, or science fiction is important. I consider it essential to make time in my life – as much time as I can manage – in which I remind myself that there is more, infinitely more, than my immediate surroundings and circumstances. The emails, the headlines, the politics and the bills and the endless anxious chatter in my head – none of it is forever. None of it is the default state of the universe. None of it is even the default human experience, because there is no such thing.

If you haven’t read any of Chambers’s books yet go check them out. Buy them. Support an author passionate about space exploration and inclusion. If you’re looking for a place to start I really enjoyed To Be Taught, If Fortunate which follows a small crew of scientists and engineers in the not-to-distant future exploring a nearby extra-solar planetary system.

If you read nothing else we’ve sent home, please at least read this. I ask knowing full well that this request is antithetical to what I believe in my heart of hearts. Our mission reports contain our science, and the science is by far the most important thing here. My crew and I are a secondary concern. Tertiary, even.

But all the same, we do have a lot riding on someone picking this up.