1981V. McIntyreStraining Your Eyes Through Viewscreen Blues in F. Herbert Nebula Winners Fifteen 80
This is a slightly less blatant version of the game of space opera, in which one writes a western, then trades earth for Omega Orion XI, trades the six-guns for lasers, masers, rasers, phasers, or occasionally for broadswords and crossbows (in a high-tech civilization, mind you); the horses transmute to FTL starcruisers, the cleancut collegiate-type good guys in white hats turn into cleancut collegiate-type good guys in mylar jumpsuits, and the squinty-eyed bad guys in black hats turn into clones, giant ambulatory carrots, humanoids, virusoids, or insectoids (or vice-versa, depending on one’s level of xenophobia).
1974V. N. McIntyreMountains of Sunset in Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction Feb. 106/1
She had not minded trading hunting grounds for sailship cubicles: the universe lay waiting. She entered the ship young and eager.
1981V. McIntyreStraining Your Eyes Through Viewscreen Blues in F. Herbert Nebula Winners Fifteen
When I was a kid I used to wonder why people in sf stories always wrote with a stylus; I was curious what a stylus was and what made it different from a pencil or a pen. Imagine the damage to my sense of wonder when I realized that a stylus was a pencil or a pen, that all those exotic-sounding cold drinks were martinis or beer, that all those interesting hot drinks were coffee or tea.