by Eric Flint
MISCELLANEOUS
A chapbook of absolute brilliance is The Best of Elmer T. Hack, by Jim Barker and Chris Evans, a BFA/Hack Press Publication, printed in England in 1979. Elmer T. Hack is a cartoon character, a science fiction writer who represents the hack of your choice. The comic strips are hilarious, and there are some mock biographical tidbits and an interview of sorts. Delightful.
Fandom is For the Young, or One Convention Too Many, by Karen "K-Nut" Flanery and Nana Grasmick, a vanity hardcover published by Vantage Press in 1981, is not very well-written, and far too media-oriented for my taste. Then there's a wonderful little chapbook called Love's Prurient Interest, by Cathy Ball, published by the Norman Oklahoma Science Fiction Association in 1983. I still don't know if it's a parody of fandom set in a romance book, or a parody of romance books set at a science fiction convention, but I do know I liked it enough to purchase it for my 1988 anthology, Shaggy B.E.M. Stories, where it appeared alongside parodies by Asimov and Clarke and didn't have to take a back seat to either.
Closing out the miscellaneous section are a pair of one-shots by Earl Kemp. Both are in symposium form (i.e., numerous answers to the singular question posed by the title). The first, Who Killed Science Fiction?, published in 1960, won the Hugo Award; the second, Why is a Fan?, is as valid today as when it was published back in 1961.
SO WHAT'S NEXT?
That takes care of my library, and should provide a sufficient answer to those who were afraid that doddering old fans all this history to the grave with us.
So what's next? Well, as fandom both grew and splintered, it became obvious than neither Harry Warner nor any other single author could do justice to an entire decade of fannish history. But we have three decades to catch up with—the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s—and in three more years we'll have a fourth.
Well, cheer up. Trufandom, never willing to let an opportunity to publish slip by, is currently, under the leadership of Rich Lynch, preparing the definitive history of fandom in the 1960s. And after he collapses and dies of overwork, I'm sure they'll find someone to take over and organize the authors who will codify the next four decades.
Substantial Fire, or
Why This Column Almost Didn't Appear
Written by Barry N. Malzberg
Three passes at an opening, one reaching a quarter-length of a full column, and I abandoned each in disgust. I am so tired, sometimes, of my own voice, its transmutation on the page, its bleating, whining, occasionally renunciatory tone; I know all my tricks and at this point so probably do most of you: the Personal Anecdote, the Audacious Opening, the Sweeping Generalization Taken Back In The Next Sentence. Little stabs of humor, sighs of memory and disenchantment, an abrazza for the wife and lovely kids, a wave of appreciation to the ladies and distinguished germs of the audience. I know my every move, have few surprises myself. Nonetheless, deadline beckons, beckons again, is sailing away now under Charon's guidance as I pursue it helplessly. Who was that genre I saw me with last decade?
The three abandoned attempts: 1) Astounding and Analog were always mislabeled as magazines of "hard science"; their science was about as hard as Horace Gold's Galaxy was soft. Psionics, levitation, dowsing, Dianetics, mystery, incantation, editorials bemusedly and then viciously questioning "organized science". By the 1950's the magazine had become a swamp of undigested mysticism. Fredric Brown's hectoring Martians, Randall Garrett's magicians and drunken space voyages, Mark Clifton on paranormal powers of the mind, The Dean Drive, and I could go on but I won't. In fact I didn't. At my age the act of shooting fish in a barrel (catch and release or otherwise) seemed as contemptible as baiting nursery school kids or Republicans. 2) Science fiction had an open window, an absolute opportunity in the period 1965-1975 to seize the moment, reach beyond its core audience, become the true literature of that tumultuous, tandem time. But it didn't happen that way; it sold itself—eagerly, eagerly—to Tolkien imitations, elves, dwarves, Star Trek and finally George Lucas. The game was over before Star Wars, but that film closed the door. If you wanted junk, Roddenberry and Lucas could do it far better and less mysterioso than Knight, Silverberg, Ellison and even Campbell no matter how hard some of us tried. The Pynchons, Powers, DeLillos, Lessings took a place in the canon of literature which science fiction, trumped by junk, never could. And so on and so forth. I tossed that baby in the same place as #1 because the though is by no means original, Carter Scholz was writing this 25 years ago, and it is also the kind of rat trap which can only close on the fingers of the fool who placed it. 3) Brian Stableford was writing three decades ago that science fiction was a uniquely 20th Century, early post-technological format, evolved to help technically-minded adolescents to adapt to the overwhelmingly emergent technological culture. It was a means and measure of adaptation. When that adaptation had been accomplished toward the end of the century, when (thanks as much to Lucas and Roddenberry as anyone else) the adolescents had not only learned to live in the future but were creating it, science fiction had outlived its necessity, had become a decadent form. Spinrad's nameless Parisian friend who was quoted by Norman as having said in the mid-nineties, "Science fiction? Oh, that is a finished thing," more or less announced and tied off the situation. This third column showed more promise but haven't I said this before and didn't Stableford say it more eloquently than that so long ago? I am as shameless on the issue of self-recycling as any science fiction writer of my generation, but surely this is a point now so self-evident that it is, well, self-evident.
So: Attempt The Fourth. Autobiography may serve as objectivity fails; it is the last refuge of the weary novelist. (It is also the first refuge of the not-so-weary novelist, but that is another sermon.)
My first contact with genre science fiction was Heinlein's Red Planet in 1950 but it was just a novel to me, I didn't think of it as science fiction but simply (like Penrod, which I read at about the same time) an interesting novel set in a background which was utterly foreign to me. Then, a few months later, my friend David Bachrach who was already a Junior High School seventh grader, a year ahead of me and a truly rabid science fiction fan persuaded me, to buy the 6/51 Astounding from the newsstand and that pretty much did it for me: Asimov's "Breeds There A Man" and Russell's "And Then There Were None" were the essential items there, and they gave me a sense of the distinctiveness and difference of the genre. Bachrach lent me the previous issue of Astounding, the one with Miller's "Izzard And The Membrane" as the cover story and that was the convincer. No one I had ever read seemed capable of even comprehending the wild pocket-universe of Miller's computer, let alone furnishing it with structure. It stunned an 11-year-old as it undoubtedly stunned some 41-year-olds and it has been a helpless trudge in thrall ever since. Fifty-six years and still packing it on the road.
And I have been in a lover's argument with science fiction for all of those fifty-six years; I have been formulating and analyzing and disagreeing and renouncing and embracing and questioning and, still thrashing, have reached some tentative but no definitive conclusions. I have put some portion of a lifetime into parsing this invention and no end yet, but I am not done yet. You can understand why I might sometimes be a little weary of my own voice, but although I can promise no end to weariness, I do promise that I will continue to honor patience. I will go on until I can go on no more. And next time (an abrazza to Algis J. Budrys) I'll review some books.
—New Jersey December 2007
February 2008
Written by Stephen Euin Cobb
The Future And You has reached a new turning point.
The show turned two years old in December of 2007. And these two years have seen many wonderful successes: audience growth, widespread recognition, winning an award, interviews with stars of movies and TV, and even an interview with a 2008 presidential candidate (Senator John McCain). But improvement must be a continuous process. Standing still leads to stagnation; and stagnation, to death.
So in the spirit of improvement, your host has changed the show's format from a gigantic s
how released once per month, to a smaller—more easily downloaded and listened to—show released every week. This new weekly format began on January 1, 2008—the very first day of this new year.
If measured on a monthly basis, approximately the same amount of show will be produced, since each of these weekly episodes will be roughly 30 minutes long and usually feature a single guest.
Listeners are encouraged to email the host with their thoughts about the change. Send those emails to [email protected]
Jack McDevitt
Jack McDevit, the best selling author of Seeker and Polaris, was the featured guest for the first weekly show (released on January 1, 2008).
He discussed how he has used the internet and email for research; science fiction on TV and in movies; what he learned by being a teacher and a newspaper reporter; and the novels that changed his life which include Ray Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles and the young adult stories The Voyage of the Space Beagle.
He also talked about writing alternate history involving Sir Arthur Conan Dole's Sherlock Holmes, and he describes one of his favorite science fiction movies, the low-budget but brilliantly written film: Time Quest.
Timothy Zahn
Timothy Zahn, the best selling author who is possibly best known for his Thrawn Trilogy (a series of Star Wars novels set in the time after the movies) was the featured guest in the January 9, 2008 episode.
He discussed several of his fears, hopes and worries about the future. He also talked about Wikipedia, Earthlike exoplanets, and how his master's degree in physics contributes both to the hardness of his science fiction and to the strength of his faith in God.
After describing his ideas in science, theology and sociology he lightened the conversation with anecdotes of how he became a Star Wars playing card, as well as a question on the TV game show Jeopardy.
Upcoming Guests
Guests scheduled for the next few weeks include (in no particular order): George Dvorsky the Chairman of BetterHumans.com (a transhumanist website and organization), Eric Flint (the best selling author) and Matt Browne (an information technologist in Frankfurt Germany).
* * *
Recent News Items
Sir Arthur C. Clarke is 90 years old
Recently, on December 16, 2007, Sir Arthur C. Clarke turned 90 years old. The venerable, some would say legendary, best selling author chose to mark the happy occasion by posting a video message to the entire world online. The link is extremely complicated but you can probably find it easily enough using his name and a phrase such as "birthday massage."
Sir Arthur C. Clarke is one of several people who shaped and altered the course of your host's life. Many of his early novels had a strong effect on me, but one of them changed everything.
It was by reading chapter 37 of his novel 2001: a space odyssey (when I was still just a teenager in high school, back in 1973) that triggered my realization that I was a transhumanist. Although it was more than twenty years before I found out there was a name for what I was, and that I was not the only one.
Second Life
On the very first day of this brand new year (January 1, 2008) your host joined Second Life.
During the last year or two I'd heard various tidbits about it but didn't really know much. My curiosity finally got to me; and so I joined.
I wanted to sign-up using my full name but that didn't seem to be an option. So I joined as "Boc Cryotank." (Boc is my last name spelled backwards—without redundant letters. And of course a cryotank is a tank use to store people who are cryopreserved.)
On my first day "in-world" (as the residents call it) I flew like superman, rode a Segway, and teleported myself to a private dance party where six people were dancing in synchrony: all making the same moves at the same time.
Someone typed to me "Hi, Boc. Welcome to the party. Want to dance?"
Having danced, and very poorly, only three times in my life (once on a cruse, once at my wedding and once that I can't remember) I used the easy excuse—"I'm not sure how. This is my first day inside Second Life."
A popup appeared on my screen saying something like "to join click yes."
I clicked Yes and instantly I was dancing. Granted, I was facing the wrong way, but I was making all the same moves they were making. I was dancing! And I'm here to tell you, I was darned good.
When I got over my astonishment, which took nearly thirty seconds, I laughed with a level of joyous stupidity generally only seen in those who are drunk. I laughed so loud and so long that I had to get up out of my chair and walk through the house to let it all out. I wish I'd recorded that laugh, because I must have sounded like a mad scientist just after announcing to the thunderclouds above my castle that my newly-formed creature is alive.
I danced for over two hours. It was fun. Not just the dancing, but everything. Second Life is a fresh new world to learn and explore. It is quite literally "a glittering toy no Star-Child could resist."
I look forward to spending more time inside, learning and exploring.
Maybe someday I'll meet you in there. Which is, of course, part of the reason I'm telling you this.
Some of you may already be in there. Some of you may have been inside for a long time; may have established yourselves; may even have longstanding relationships. I would like to meet you in there. Visit with you. Who better to help me understand what's going on in Second Life than those who already know their way around.
And who knows, if a lot of you are in there maybe we can arrange a get together.
If you are a resident of Second Life please email me, and if you do please be sure to let me now your avatar's name. To quote the Merovingian: "Let us see where this goes."
More about the Show's New Format
The biggest news for the show is, of course, our change to the smaller, but much more frequent, weekly format.
I've been considering going to a weekly format for six months or more. My longstanding resistance to the idea has been based on several things. One of these was that when I created the show I used the old Tonight Show from back when Johnny Carson was the host as my format model. Johnny always had a variety of guests talking about a variety of topics.
Another limitation was that I wanted a large enough show that I could put into it a 15 minute long segment for the serialization of my novel Bones Burnt Black without the novel dominating the show. That reason evaporated with the serialization's completion in the November 1, 2007 episode.
But to be honest the most important reason for my reluctance to change to a show containing only one guest has been my worry that non-famous guests will get listened to far less than guests who are famous. And since it has been my experience that non-famous guests bring as much good stuff to the show as those who are famous, and sometimes far more, I was worried that listeners would miss out.
Looking back, I can see the foolishness of this kind of thinking. Not because it's inaccurate, but because it's not my place to force or trick or beguile listeners into listening to every guest.
Yes, some listeners will miss interviews that they would have enjoyed; but what all listeners will gain is the flexibility to zero in on those guests and those topics which they most care about. Everything else is just gravy.
My intention is try this new format for at least three months. That should be plenty of time to see if it works poorly or works well. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts about the change. Send those emails to [email protected]
Jim Baen's Universe in the Show's New Format
In keeping with the new shorter but more frequent episodes, the readings from Jim Baen's Universe Magazine have been shortened to about two and a half minutes each. This is exactly the same amount of time per month, but presented in smaller snippets. To make these snippets as entertaining as possible, Walt Boyes (The Bananaslug and JBU's Marketing Director) has elected to present a single story in serialized form over a period of weeks. The first story is Christmas Eve at Harvey Wallbanger's written by Mike
Resnick and read by Walt Boyes. (Stoney Compton, author of Russian Amerika, is scheduled to do readings in the near future.)
* * *
Listener Feedback
Censoring the Guests
As host, I receive many emails from listeners. Sometimes I read them into the show. I had to blush when I read the opening of this one in the show, but this listener brought up an important point.
> Steve,
>
> You are a phenomenal talent. I find you intelligent and intellectually
> stimulating. Your personal future projections are scintillating. Some of
> your guests however, are exactly the opposite. They write these wildly
> imaginative sci-fi books, and then when you interview some of them, I am
> appalled by some of their lack of confidence in science and technology.
> Some of them have not followed any of the new technological advances in
> even a minimal manner. In my opinion it casts a dark shadow of illegitimacy
> on their works. My suggestion is to vet them before releasing them on your
> podcast audience. If they appeared intellectually stunted on scientific
> affairs, and completely gloomy on every technological projection, then
> leave them just talking about their works, their efforts, and the
> publishing world. I also suggest you further interview from time to time
> individuals of some authority who are optimistic about the future.
Soaring ever onwards,
Paul
-
I wrote back . . .
Paul,
Thanks for your most excellent praise. Your assessment of some of my guests is, unfortunately, similar to my own. My standard excuse for including as much as possible of their comments is my desire to avoid any possibility that I might subconsciously begin to censor my guests by editing out anything that makes them sound stupid. Such editing might sound like a benevolent act; but what if they sound stupid only because they disagree with me; or just as bad, because they disagree with what I believe my listeners want to hear?