Full disclosure: I'm a science junkie. The more likely the science is to kill us, the happier I am with reading or watching it. I watch all of those shows about super volcanos and mega-tsunamis. For my purposes, the science doesn't even have to be good. I'm interested in anything that'll spark an idea, an automatic "Oo, I don't care if it's true - what if it could be?" That's where stories start, with possibilities, with disasters, and with accidents that shunt someone's original research premise off into the truly strange, and, if I'm lucky, into the terrifying.
Three days a week or so, I'll post a short brain dump and a link to a science story that's piqued my curiosity. All of this because I write science fiction romance for Berkley Sensations. My website will tell you about it, but now, without further ado, the first link to an article that has me rethinking spaceship hulls.