Magazine - The New York Review of Science Fiction - 309 - 2014-05

by vol 25 no 09

  But books weren’t the only equipment the writers recommended to encourage and inspire children’s creativity. Eileen Gunn felt very strongly that all children need a “supply of art and writing material, and easy access to information: books, magazines, television, and the Internet,” according to Gunn. Ann Zeddies along the same line said:

  Give them a rich compost of information, all kinds of information. You never know what they will pick up and find useful.... Smart kids tend to get stuck inside their heads because they can manipulate symbols far sooner than they can develop their physical ability to manipulate objects.... Provide ... all the paper they can use, and plenty of pencils, pens, paint and art supplies of all kinds. Give them music. They’ll be more grounded and less frustrated if they can find avenues to express themselves physically. Learning to play a musical instrument, to swim, ride, bike, hike, climb, pitch tents, start campfires, use tools, play a sport, can all be good if you can find a venue that isn’t intimidating....

  Michael Bishop raised the stakes when he urged parents to

  help [the children] cultivate a sense of awe in the face of this immensely mysterious universe by looking at the night sky, taking hikes or walks in rural areas or wilderness places, and visiting museums, cultural sites, and natural wonders. And don’t try to direct your child to activities or careers that satisfy your private ambitions rather than the child’s. (Share your ambitions but don’t push them.) In short, let the child’s mind grow and the child’s interests happen.

  The fine line between encouraging children and pushing them came up time after time in the authors’ letters—and certainly not all of them were in agreement. Most writers concurred with Jack Dann to “give [children] positive reinforcement and allow them to follow their dreams ... to follow their bliss, to quote Joseph Campbell.” Paolo Bacigalupi added that he wasn’t “really sure that gifted children need much ... except that they be supported and not have their souls crushed.” George Zebrowski agreed, saying, “I advise parents ... to tread softly on dreams ... [but] raise the level of encouragement along with growing evidence of ability.... Ironically, I wonder if early help or hindrance makes any difference.... I once complained that the help I got from my parents was a prison.” Harry Harrison came out in favor of “benevolent indifference.” Pam Sargent recommended “leaving the kid alone for periods of time, allowing him or her moments to read, reflect, draw, chuck baseballs or footballs, [hang] around with friends, or just lie daydreaming.... in this culture of hovering parents and heavily scheduled children, [free] time seems an increasingly rare gift.”

  Connie Willis was also deeply concerned about parents overloading their children:

  [In] some ways I think the lack of encouragement at home may [be] a good thing. I know the accepted wisdom is that the way to make your kids into readers (and writers) is to surround them and immerse them in books, make sure that they see you reading, discuss books, read what they’ve written, and encourage them at every turn, but I’m not so sure.

  I come into contact all the time with parents who are simply smothering their kids with encouragement—they want me to recommend books for their kids to read, to critique what they’ve written, to help them get published at the tender age of twelve, or ten, or six, and I can’t help feeling their kids are going to wind up fleeing all things bookish.

  I’m not suggesting parents snatch books out of their kids’ hands and lock them in the attic.... All I’m saying is that sometimes a little healthy neglect can be a good thing.... I think sometimes I became a reader and a writer because I was the only one who liked it. It was mine and no one else’s—a childhood secret hideaway, an adolescent rebellion....

  Another concern was voiced by Anne McCaffrey about a particular helicopter parent who was hovering over her daughter too much. “I had a parent write me ... as I was her daughter’s favorite author. She wanted me to write to the girl and tell her to conform in her high school. She was definitely a non-joiner and miserable. I would not tell the child to conform to social peerage. One doesn’t learn to think, conforming. Since she read sf I sent them a long list of good writing in the field, each with something to say and a new society or world to examine.”

  Writers were also interested in how parents might encourage their children’s writing ability. Some, like George Zebrowski, weren’t sure how much to “push”: “Early development may be crucial in the arts. I liken it to piano practice, and every year lost sets you back.... Parents should try to neither help nor [be] a hindrance, if only to measure the dedication of their young.” Michael Flynn warned,

  Parents—don’t overdo things. Even helpful criticism if overdone can be a killer. But so can ... gushing enthusiasm. The kids usually know when they’ve written crap. But you can usually find something: a novel idea, a gem of a sentence, an interesting character. But at [a young age] ... it is a story that matters, not the craft of writing. Get them to tell you a story. Don’t try to tell them what the story should be. Ask interested questions like, “Why did [this character] do that?” Then get out of their way again.

  Anne McCaffrey concurred: “... my first advice to would-be writers ... read and tell a story. So many kids just gussy a story up with similes and metaphor that do not, in fact, enhance what they’re trying to relate.” James Patrick Kelly emphasized how important it is to take their work seriously by

  engaging with it and testing its boundaries. If a kid is writing about his house of the future and claims that he has a water slide in his bedroom, then I get to ask how much money he makes and what he does for a living to be able to afford such a luxury and how big his house is and where exactly he lives that can accommodate such a structure. It is coming up with answers to those questions that the beginnings of a science-fictional worldbuilding can be found. Most kids have extravagant imaginations, and I try to help them live up to the scope of their thinking.

  Another point he emphasized was the need for rewriting.

  Whenever I go into a school for a writing residency, I encourage the students to write multiple drafts, revising their stories to answer the questions that I and their fellow students ask. Whenever possible I try to get them to finalize their work for publication, even if publication is only a stapled collection of student work. I still have some stuff from when I was a kid. Sometimes a physical artifact can act as a kind of talisman for future accomplishment.

  Connie Willis addressed another aspect of this subject: actual publication. While several authors had parents who sent off their early works to publishers on their behalf (either openly or surreptitiously), Willis was certain that this is a bad idea:

  DO NOT try to talk your kids into sending their stories out for publication—or worst of all, send them out to editors for them.... If they’re going to be writers, they’ll do it on their own. In secret. Possibly even in the dead of night, without telling anyone.... Writing is like deciding to become a nun. It’s a holy vocation, and you have to come to it on your own. NOBODY can do it for you.

  Frederik Pohl told a striking story which should serve as both advice and a warning to all parents of kids who show writing talent and interests:

  When I was editing Galaxy, I got a letter and manuscript from a woman who was bursting with pride over the manuscript, which her son had turned in for a composition requirement. His teacher was greatly impressed by it. So was she. I, not so much. As I wrote to her, it was a pretty good story and had been ever since Ray Bradbury published it under the title “The Watchful Poker Chip of H. Matisse” ten or twenty years earlier.

  I urged her to explain to her son the wrongness of plagiarism. As to punishment, I suggested only that he be required to tell his teacher what he had done.... a little healthy skepticism is the advice I would give to any ... parent in the same circumstance.

  (A recent New Yorker cartoon shows two Elizabethan parents and their child sitting in the headmaster’s office, saying, “In fact, the work’s so good that we question whether it’s Will’s own.”)

&n
bsp; Perhaps the most heretical point made by any of the sf writers was a very basic question Ann Zeddies posed:

  [Does] any sane parent actually want a science fiction writer for a child? All those “why nots” and “what ifs” and “why the hells”—all those constant aggravating questions—requests for Halloween costumes the likes of which have never been seen on a suburban street. Wouldn’t most families prefer a docile conformist who would dress as a ghost or hobo, collect the candy, then collect a college degree, job, house, spouse, and a couple of grandchildren? Isn’t security what we’d like for our children? Why turn them into internal exiles on their own planet, galactic expatriates who can never go home because home hasn’t happened yet in this continuum? If they must be writers, then for heaven’s sake, make them writers of chick lit or sensational memoirs or naval thrillers, or something with a snowball’s chance of actually providing a living in today’s publishing climate! You should be asking ... for hot tips on how parents can make sure their children don’t turn out like us!

  Finally, several of the authors had valid concerns, suggestions, and admonitions about dealing with gifted children. Jerry Pournelle and Nalo Hopkinson were both troubled by the educational system. Pournelle pointed out that the “brightest kids are not a problem what with the Internet. It is the IQ 110–120 who are wasted. No child left behind: none get ahead.” Nalo Hopkinson vociferously criticized social inequities built into the system:

  [Much] of the time, the main difference between a “gifted” child and a “problem” one is privilege. A well-off white boy who has poor social skills and a short attention span but who knows everything there is to know about every type of plane ever built might be called a geek, but he might also get access to books and get streamed into the “gifted” classes. A poor black boy who has poor social skills and a short attention span might never get access to the information he can feed his brain. He might get streamed into the “slow” classes, might get viewed as stupid and dangerous, and ultimately might end up in jail. And us girl geeks of whatever cultural persuasion are just changeling children who mostly never manage to perform femininity in acceptably normative ways. It is still much less acceptable for girls to be misfits than for boys to be.

  Jack Williamson felt that “if a child has the science fiction gift, he’ll be fascinated at a first exposure” and he went on to challenge parents to make sure the child has “a good general education, especially in science.” Geoffrey A. Landis felt it very important that parents encourage their curious children to “go deeply into whatever pursuit fascinates them,” and Barry Longyear emphasized instilling the value of hard work. “I am neither gifted nor brilliant—I worked hard. Very hard, to achieve what I have.” (Several authors addressed the question of whether sf writers are generally gifted themselves. Nalo Hopkinson mentioned in her letter to me that “I’m completely certain that science fiction and fantasy writers are not amongst some kind of intellectual elite, and I don’t want to be positioned that way. We can be just as ignorant as anyone else, and often are.”)

  For more pragmatic advice, Gene Wolfe and David Marusek both noted the value of taking interested children to sf conventions. “Let him talk to a few writers. Let him meet the science Guest of Honor,” suggested Wolfe. Marusek felt it very worthwhile to introduce the children “to their idols. Science fiction is a homey community.” Taking them to a con “when their favorite writers are attending ... brings the whole idea of writing down to the human scale.”

  However, Ann Zeddies stressed that parents are and should be the primary role models for their children:

  Whatever you wish they would become, do your best to be that yourself. If you want them to be kind, brave, honest, then be kind to them. Be courageous in your own life. Tell them the truth.... The only way to create goodness is to model it. We model ourselves on what we see. That’s why stories are so important, because we become what we imagine and act out. So try to show your children what you want instead of lecturing them. Work with them instead of giving them orders. We model ourselves on what we love, and your children will do their best to love you, no matter how big a jerk you may be. So try not to be a jerk....

  Don’t try to mislead them or withhold information from them. It’s not a good thing to do to any child, but particularly damaging to a very intelligent child who will soon guess what you’re doing and will see it as an affront to their intelligence. The more intelligent the child, the more they depend on good information for security, and the more frightening it will be if they suspect that their world is built on false premises.

  Jack Dann added that parents “want security and a cleared pathway for our children, and the arts are notoriously insecure.” Regarding older children he said, “have the courage to allow your children to live dangerously. After all, it’s their lives. I broke my father’s heart when I dropped out of law school after selling a story to Damon Knight’s Orbit anthology series. But I’ve never regretted it.” Again, Ann Zeddies had sage advice: “very intelligent children ... tend to be perfectionists—if you want them to be kind to themselves, to be forgiving, to have the courage to risk mistakes, and to be able to comfort themselves when things go wrong, model that for them too. Be kind to yourself. Accept yourself. Be brave enough to take chances and make mistakes, and find a way to comfort yourself if things don’t always go as you hoped. This is something I’m still learning rather late in life, but not too late to make a difference to my children.”

  The reality that Zeddies says she—and parents of all children—must confront is that “there is no completely reliable algorithm for raising a child ... whatever B.F. Skinner may think. They’re all mutants, not clones—so far at least.” However, she’s content to also proffer the fantasy she has for her children, one which we may all share:

  The child of fortune hears a distant calling in the wind. They must go on a long journey, to the end of the known world. They must climb the glass mountain, dare the dragon, enter the forbidden city of the warrior monks, bridle the winged steed. They run out the door without so much as a pocket handkerchief. All we can do is run after them, hand them clean socks and a packet of sandwiches, kiss them goodbye. Tell them we’ll love them always. Hope they’ll find their way....

  My hope for them, my story about them, has never been that they would become “normal.” In my story, somewhere along the way, things change! Something happens! Something wonderful!

  Barbara Bengels lives in Garden City, New York.

  Jessica Amanda Salmonson

  Remembering Jody Scott

  I saw a note about author Jody Scott (1923–2007) that amounted to “almost no one knew her” and “there is no information available about her.” And unjustly, I guess that’s true. So I’m going to correct the record a little bit, hoping not to hurt anyone’s feelings if I’m as honest as possible, relying on imperfect memory for the more amusingly sordid details.

  She was a good friend to me, and I speak from great affection for Jody. Some of this I repeat as she told it to me so it’s only as true as she was having it be and as I remember it, which is two steps from true, but it’s the best I can do.

  I think Jody was largely honest but sometimes a little deluded. She was a brilliant social critic and told me very boldly (this is not literally her rant but it captures the tone), “Everyone in the world is stupid and wrong about everything. If they would listen to me, the world would be perfect. I have the answers. I could turn this world into an ideal paradise instantly if they’d listen, but their stupidity extends too far; they don’t realize their savior lives among them.”

  I told her, “I agree with you that the whole world is stupid, but you’ve only got it half right. You are no exception. We are all of us stupid, you, me, the whole world. No exceptions.”

  But she was persistent and serious. The world was fucked up, but she wasn’t. She was the greatest genius who ever lived, unrecognized by all. Oh, and I wasn’t half stupid, but still, only she, the great and powerless Jody, w
as wisdom incarnate.

  When I first met her, she was a butch babe. An old time dyke who looked great in a tux. Always the gentleman. She was sensitive and naive, traits she would vigorously deny without getting mad about it. She knew everything about everyone she met even if she didn’t know a thing. And if someone told her a sob story, she’d get all angry on their behalf, never imagining they were deluded even then.

  Once a falling-down drunk waylaid us in the street and gave his sob story about how he was formerly the lead guitarist in Jerry Lee Lewis’s band and by his own testimony one of the greatest guitarists who ever lived. But for this and that reason he was blackballed from the business, none of it his fault. Jody gave him twenty bucks so he could stay blotto, then the rest of the night kvetched about how genius was always pushed out in favor of mediocrity, a great guitarist like that and look where they put him. I told her, “That guy was full of shit.” Couldn’t convince her.

  Her desire to believe everyone’s a fool, yet this drunk was a victim of his own greatness as he’d framed it, fit, and it had to be true. Well, I fear that was her world view about herself; though she was no drunk, she was that sort of unrewarded genius. And I’ve no doubt at all Jody was a genius. A warped genius but a genius. And she was nobody’s savior, even if they HAD listened!

  So, well, why should you care who Jody was? Barry N. Malzberg called her “the best unknown sf writer.” She wrote two stunningly fine novels—Passing for Human (1977) and I, Vampire (1984), ahead of their time for lesbian fantasy/sf and ahead of the genre in literary merit. She also co-wrote with George Thurston Leite, under the pseudonym Thurston Scott, a gay mystery novel set amidst Oakland’s Latino gang culture, praised by Anthony Boucher, Cure it with Honey (1951; in paperback as I’ll Get Mine, 1958). There were a few short stories as well, not many, including “Shirley Is No Longer With Us” which she wrote for my small magazine, Windhaven, in 1978, and a novelette, “Origin of Species,” in Fantastic Science Fiction, February 1966. If all her short stories were gathered together, they’d be a very small book.