I have to admire Eric Flint; 1632 exemplifies the rule that
if you can’t make something plausible, make it as fun as you can. Flint
wanted to see what would happen if you magically moved a West Virginian
mining town (Grantville, by name) from the present day United States to
Germany, specifically Thuringia, smack-dab in the middle of the 30 Years
War: 1632. One day in 2000, during a wedding reception, Grantville
experienced a sudden earthquake and power failure. Citizens who were
outside reported seeing a “ring of fire” in all directions. And when
they went to investigate, there they were–in Germany, at a very bad time.

What caused the Grantville Disaster, as it came to be known back in 2000?
It seems a bit of cosmic debris, remnant of the production of a piece of
performance art by a super-advanced yet highly irresponsible race called
the Assisti, struck the Earth just so…

As I say, if you can’t come up with anything plausible, let your
imagination go to work and have as much fun as you can.

So what happens when American values meet religious intolerance, rapine,
and royalty? Therein hangs the tale related in these books.
1632 details the arrival of Grantville in Thuringia and their
initial attempts to survive and thrive in an immediately hostile
environment. By 1633 the local threat has mostly been dealt
with, but the great powers, notably France and Austria, are getting
involved. Grantville has to step up war production, and support their
allies with everything they have, plus they must send out envoys seeking
new allies. By 1634 the situation has ramified
considerably, so much so that a single book is no longer sufficient to
cover their entire year. There are ultimately going to be at least three
books (if I recall correctly) covering 1634;
1634: The Galileo Affair is simply the first. Although,
“first” only in the sense that it’s the first to be written and
published; the books will take place concurrently. This reflect’s
Flint’s view of history–the world’s a big place, and everything more or
less happens at once, and develops in ways you wouldn’t expect. And
this, in turn, has drive Flint’s use of collaborators.

Flint has always enjoyed working with collaborators; most of his books
are collaborations. 1633 was written with
David Weber, for example, and
1634: The Galileo Affair was written with
Andrew Dennis. In this case, though, he’s a man with a
method. If history is messy, with all sorts of unpredictable things
going on, and if you want to produce a series based on an alternate
history, what better way to simulate it than to allow other authors to
play in your world–and then embrace their creations and allow them to
influence your own work?

That’s the story behind Ring of Fire, which is an anthology
of short stories and novellas set in Flint’s world. It’s a neat
collection; I have only one criticism of it, which is that it was
published in paperback after the publication of
1632 and 1634: The Galileo Affair, despite
being published earlier in hardcover. As many of the characters in the
later two books stem from stories in this anthology, there was an
annoying sense of already knowing how the story was going to turn out.

Anyway, this is all good stuff; both Jane and I are
eagerly looking forward to future volumes, of which there are going to be
many: in addition to the direct sequels, Flint’s evidently planning a
couple of spin-off series. One will involve yet another community
transplanted from one time and place to another (though not from present
day); the other will take place in the far future, and will involve the
Assisti getting their comeuppance. Taken all together, it ought to keep
him busy for a while.

Flint is a history buff; he’s also fond of working with collaborators,
and this extended series