by IGMS
SCHWEITZER: When you became editor of Analog, did you deliberately set out to do things differently? I can tell that as a reader at the time, the change seemed pretty dramatic to me. It had always seemed strange that Analog had not featured Larry Niven regularly, and as soon as you took over, it did.
BOVA: Actually, I tried to hew pretty close to Campbell's system. It was very successful, after all. Like John, I personally read all of the incoming manuscripts. I was fortunate enough to discover writers such as Orson Scott Card, Spider Robinson, Vonda McIntyre, and others. I helped to boost Joe Haldeman's fledgling career by publishing segments of what turned out to be his novel The Forever War. (I was able to help Joe Haldeman get his first novel, a YA titled War Year, published.)
But John and I were not the same person. I naturally had slightly different tastes, and I felt that Analog's readers would be open to a slightly wider variety of stories. And so they were, although a few of the old-timers complained about hints of sex in Haldeman and Fred Pohl's The Gold at the Starbow's End. It struck me, though, that Analog's readers had nowhere else to go! Even if the magazine changed a bit, they would stick with Analog because that was the only place they could find the kinds of stories they enjoyed reading. I learned that I could get out in front of the readership by a few paces, and they would follow me. On the other hand, there were marvelous stories that I had to reject - some of them by close friends of mine - because they were too far from the Analog type. I published some of those stories when I went to Omni. Even over a span of several years, the writers had been unable to find a publisher for them.
SCHWEITZER: Did you also try to feed ideas to writers the way Campbell did? I gather that part of his technique was to start a friendly Socratic argument, perhaps taking an outrageous position to stimulate thinking.
BOVA: I did that on a few occasions, although I found that the stories pouring into Analog had enough new ideas in them so that I didn't have to do much prodding. That wasn't my style, anyway. I remember once asking a few writers what the world would be like if Germany and Japan had decided to go for world domination commercially, instead of militarily. Gene Wolfe responded with, "How I Lost the Second War . . ." A neat story in which Volkswagens and transistors conquer the world. I bounced another idea off several writers, who gave me nothing but blank stares. So I wrote the story myself; it was the first of the Sam Gunn stories.
SCHWEITZER: Now I know it was always the rule that the editor of Analog could not write for Analog, but were you able to go on writing fiction while editing the magazine?
BOVA: Since I'm mainly a novelist, I continued writing novels, although the workload at Analog cut into my writing time considerably. My one regret about taking the Analog job was that I was unable to serialize my novel Millennium in the magazine. John and I had talked about it, and he liked what he saw of the novel. Incidentally, I had to write an editorial every month. That was demanding, too: being brilliant every thirty days.
SCHWEITZER: So, tell me a little about being fiction editor for Omni. How did that happen?
BOVA: After seven years of editing Analog I retired from editing. My income from writing supported me nicely, and I had always wanted to be a full-time writer. So I left Analog. In the meantime, Bob Guccione and Kathy Keeton (the woman Bob eventually married) showed me their plans for a magazine they called Nova and asked me to edit it for them. I declined, telling them I would love to write for their magazine, but I was retiring from editing. Then they asked me to recommend a fiction editor for Nova. I recommended Diana King, who had earlier been my assistant at Analog. They hired Diana, who ran off to get married just as the first issue of Omni (nee Nova) was going to press. I got a call from Guccione, who told me that he didn't have a fiction editor and it was my fault. I agreed to sit in at the fiction desk until Bob and Kathy could find another editor. I enjoyed the job immensely. Among other delights, I was able to buy stories that I had rejected at Analog because they didn't fit the hard-core science fiction criteria. Within a year I was editorial director of Omni and having the time of my life. I had deliberately kept my salary low, so that I could walk away without any financial problems. But the perks were fantastic! My wife, Barbara, and I traveled the world first class. Finally, after four years, I tendered my resignation and - at last - turned to writing full-time. Omni was selling more than a quarter-million copies per month at that point, with an estimated readership of five million.
SCHWEITZER: Did you have any sense, as editor either of Analog or Omni, that you could lead the field and reshape it in some desired direction? In both cases you would have had some leverage, since you were editing the highest-paying market in the field. We all know how John Campbell recreated science fiction in the first ten years or so of his editorship. So did you have any sense of doing something similar?
BOVA: No. By the time I became editor of Analog, the field had matured - largely thanks to Campbell's unceasing efforts. My aim at Analog was to continue what Campbell had started, widening the choice of stories a bit because I felt that a new generation of readers was ready to accept stories that were more mature in dealing with sexual relationships. At Omni I could publish stories that were outside the "hard sf" type, because Omni's readers were much more varied than Analog's.
SCHWEITZER: Let's talk about your writing a little, and related matters. Most of your SF has been very much of the hard-science type. I take it you must find the frontiers of science stimulating for story creation rather than inhibiting, as some writers do. Is there any secret for turning a scientific notion into a story.
BOVA: I write "hard" science fiction because I've been interested in scientific research since I was a pre-teen. I started by being turned on to astronomy. This led me to rocketry and astronautics - and to reading science fiction. I have worked with engineers and scientists most of my adult life. So when I started writing seriously, naturally I wrote about what - and who - I knew best. I find that the nexus where scientific research and politics interact is not only interesting story material, but vitally important to the success of our society and the well-being of everyone in it. If there's a secret to turning a scientific notion into a story, it is to understand the science, and understand who it will help, and hurt.
SCHWEITZER: Do you feel that science fiction has any didactic or educational purpose? I know you have been a long-time advocate of space exploration, and of course much of your fiction - notably the recent series in which you have visited the planets of the solar system one by one - certainly seems to be tailored to encourage further interest in this area. Is it possible that what some fans have called "the Gernsback Delusion" (the idea that science fiction exists to teach and stimulate interest in science) is not a delusion after all?
BOVA: I think that stimulating interest in science is a byproduct of science fiction, not its primary purpose. The primary purpose of science fiction, like any type of fiction, is to show ourselves to ourselves. In science fiction we can use exotic backgrounds and unique moral dilemmas to reveal the workings of the human soul. However, I don't think it's a coincidence that many youngsters have been turned on to science by reading science fiction. Some of those kids grew up to walk on the Moon. One of the things that science fiction stories accomplish is to show readers the wonders of the universe, and the thrill of discovery. Science classes in school can be dull, because science courses of necessity have to begin with the basics. Science fiction stories can skip over the basics and show how exciting the quest for knowledge can be.
SCHWEITZER: So do you have any sense that some current science fiction has lost its nerve and is turning away from the future? What's to be done about it? Or are we doomed to be overwhelmed by urban fantasies, alternate history, and Harry Potter knockoffs?
BOVA: I think you're seeing the glass half-empty. Science fiction ideas and ideals permeate the entertainment industry nowadays. True, the "hard core" stuff is only a small percentage of what the SF field is publishing at present. But to me, that's the heart of the field.
As the audience for SF has expanded, naturally the field has widened. Which is cause, which is effect? I think there is still some good "hard" science fiction being written, and read.
SCHWEITZER: What are you working on now?
BOVA: It's another novel in the Grand Tour series, titled Farside. It's about building an astronomical facility on the side of the Moon that never faces Earth, and will be a bridge that moves the series beyond the solar system.
SCHWEITZER: Thanks, Ben.
Letter From The Editor
Issue 24 - August 2011
by Edmund R. Schubert
Editor, Orson Scott Card's InterGalactic Medicine Show
* * *
Welcome to issue 24 of IGMS. Let's dive right into the stories, shall we?
Our cover story is "Under The Shield" by Stephen Kotowych. An alternate history tale set in turn of the 20th century New York, it depicts a world brought to the edge of war by Nikola Tesla's powerful energy shields and death ray, the latter of which was the true cause of the devastation at Tunguska in 1908.
Next up is "What Happened at Blessing Creek," an . . . let's call this one an alternate reality story by Naomi Kritzer, where 19th century pioneers explore a west that's a little wilder than the one we knew, replete with Indians and wolves, as well as dragons and magicians -- and one young girl who suddenly finds herself thrust into the middle of the conflict between settlers and Indians over the fate of the town of Blessing Creek.
Michael Banker's "Second Chances Made of Glass and Wood" takes us to an intriguing fantasy world where souls can be magically transferred from dying human bodies to carved wooden miniature bodies, and explores this world through the eyes of someone who never walked the world in a human body to begin with, never knew the taste of food in her mouth or the flash of color before her eyes.
"Old Flatfoot" by Ross Willard swings the pendulum in the other direction, showing us the existence of a police robot designed to protect and serve, but never allowed to make a decision of its own. But when 'Old Flatfoot' discovers its days are numbered, it takes matters into its own hands in an unexpectedly sentimental way.
Part One of Jared Adams' "Whiteface" is the first half of a novelette about a father's quest to find a place in the world for a son who repeatedly chooses the path of the outcast, first as an unknowing child, but later in life with the full knowledge of not only the ramifications of his choice, but full knowledge of his father's displeasure with such a choice. Part Two will conclude the story in our next issue.
And as with every other issue, we bring you another of David Lubar's Tale for the Unafraid, and Darrell Schweitzer's InterGalactic Interview with Ben Bova.
Last, but by no means least, we bring you a sneak-peek at Orson Scott Card's forthcoming novella Shadows In Flight, a direct sequel to his hugely popular novel, Shadow of the Giant. Shadows In Flight is due out from Tor in November of this year, but IGMS will preview it, presenting chapter one in this issue, and chapter two in the next issue.
Enjoy.
Edmund R. Schubert
Editor, Orson Scott Card's InterGalactic Medicine Show
P.S. As usual, we've collected essays from the authors in this issue and will post them on our blog SideShowFreaks.blogspot.com. Feel free to drop by and catch The Story Behind The Stories, where the authors talk about the creation of their tales.
For more from Orson Scott Card's
InterGalactic Medicine Show visit:
http://www.InterGalacticMedicineShow.com
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