David Brin (edit name/settings)

His 1989 ecological thriller, Earth, foreshadowed global warming, cyberwarfare and near-future trends such as the World Wide Web. A 1998 movie, directed by Kevin Costner, was loosely based on David's post-apocalyptic novel, The Postman.

David's novel Kiln People is a fast-moving noir detective story, set in a future when technology enables people to physically be in more than two places at once -- by making disposable clones of themselves. A hardcover graphic novel The Life Eaters explored alternate outcomes to WWII.

David's science fictional Uplift Universe explores a future when humans genetically engineer animals like dolphins to become equal members of our civilization. This includes the award-winning Startide Rising, The Uplift War, Brightness Reef and Heaven's Reach. David recently wrote Foundation's Triumph -- which brings to a grand finale Isaac Asimov's famed Foundation Universe.

Brin's scientific work covers topics ranging from comets and optics to alternative dispute resolution and the role of neoteny in human evolution. His Ph.D in Physics from UCSD followed a masters in optics and an undergraduate degree in astrophysics from Caltech. He was a postdoctoral fellow at the California Space Institute. David has earned patents in internet technology which aim to improve the way human beings converse online.

As a public scientist/futurist David appears frequently on radio and TV, including "The Universe" and the History Channel's "Life After People." 

Brin serves on advisory committees dealing with subjects such as national defense and homeland security. He speaks widely on astronomy and space exploration, SETI, and future predictions. His non-fiction book -- The Transparent Society: Will Technology Force Us to Choose Between Freedom and Privacy? -- deals with secrecy in the modern world. It won the Freedom of Speech Prize from the American Library Association.

You can follow David:
Blog:          http://davidbrin.blogspot.com/
Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/pages/David-Brin/22358129265?ref=ts
Twitter:       http://twitter.com/davidbrin1
YouTube:   http://www.youtube.com/user/cab801


 Excerpt from The Postman:
  In dust and blood -- with the sharp tang of terror stark in his nostrils -- a man's mind will sometimes pull forth odd relevancies. After half a lifetime in the wilderness, most of it spent struggling to survive, it still struck Gordon as odd -- how obscure memories would pop into his mind right in the middle of a life-or-death fight. 
     Panting under a bone-dry thicket -- crawling desperately to find a refuge -- he suddenly experienced a recollection as clear as the dusty stones under his nose. It was a memory of contrast -- of a rainy afternoon in a warm, safe university library, long ago -- of a lost world filled with books and music and carefree philosophical ramblings. 
     Words on a page. 
     Dragging his body through the tough, unyielding bracken, he could almost see the letters, black against white. And although he couldn't recall the obscure author's name, the words came back with utter clarity.

     "Short of Death itself, there is no such thing as a 'total' defeat.... There is never a disaster so devastating that a determined person cannot pull something out of the ashes -- by risking all that he or she has left.... 
     "Nothing in the world is more dangerous than a desperate man."

     Gordon wished the long-dead writer were here right now, sharing his predicament. He wondered what pollyannaish glow the fellow might find around this catastrophe. 
     Scratched and torn from his desperate escape into this dense thicket, he crawled as quietly as he could, stopping to lay still and squeeze his eyes shut whenever the floating dust seemed about to make him sneeze. It was slow, painful progress, and he wasn't even sure where he was headed. 
     Minutes ago he had been as comfortable and well-stocked as any solitary traveler could hope to be, these days. Now, Gordon was reduced to not much more than a ripped shirt, faded jeans, and camp moccasins -- and the thorns were cutting them all to bits. 
     A tapestry of fiery pain followed each new scratch down his arms and back. But in this awful, bone-dry jungle, there was nothing to do but crawl onward and pray his twisting path did not deliver him back to his enemies -- to those who had effectively killed him already. 
     Finally, when he had come to think the hellish growth would never end, an opening appeared ahead. A narrow cleft split the brush and overlooked a slope of tumbled rock. Gordon pulled free of the thorns at last, rolled over onto his back, and stared up at the hazy sky, grateful simply for air that wasn't foul with the heat of dry decay. 
     Welcome to Oregon, he thought bitterly. And I thought Idaho was bad. 
     He lifted one arm and tried to wipe the dust out of his eyes. 
     Or is it that I'm simply getting too old for this sort of thing? After all, he was over thirty now, beyond the typical life expectancy of a postholocaust traveler.