Thomas M. Disch, 68; prolific science-fiction author

The strange new worlds he created were an odd mix: dark and horror-filled, humorous and playful. His work outfoxed readers' expectations, one critic said, and made labeling a chore for publishers.

But being outside the box was a Disch trademark.

"Tom Disch is one of the few people I have ever met who I would consider a genius," said Dana Gioia, chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts. "He was like a brilliant child in the richness of his imagination, although certainly no child had as dark and twisted an imagination as Tom did."

Disch, 68, who has been called one of the most important science fiction writers of his generation, fatally shot himself in the head July 5, according to the New York City Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. Friends said he was found dead inside his New York apartment.

Disch also wrote poetry, drama criticism, book reviews, opera librettos, plays, children's books and an interactive computer novel.

Critic John Clute once wrote that Disch was "perhaps the most respected, least trusted, most envied and least read of all modern first-rank SF writers."

Though he never won mainstream fame, Disch was highly regarded in the world of science fiction.

Three of his novels, "Camp Concentration," "334" and "On Wings of Song" were named in "Science Fiction: The 100 Best Novels," a survey by critic David Pringle.

Disch's nonfiction work "The Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of: How Science Fiction Conquered the World" received a Hugo Award in 1999.

Disch was far better known in England, where he lived for a time, than in the U.S., Gioia said. In the 1960s he was part of a New Wave movement in which writers introduced modernist and surrealist techniques into science fiction. Disch's work was ripe with political and social satire and irony.

"334," published in 1974, is set in a housing project in an overcrowded, controlled New York of the 2020s. One character, Birdie Ludd, must convince officials that he is fit to procreate. Another, Mrs. Hanson, must convince them that she has nothing to live for.

The book is "a cry for help, a voice from a future not so far off -- or, if you like, from a present we may never leave behind," M. John Harrison wrote in the introduction to "334."